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Authors: Cora Harrison

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery & Detective

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BOOK: Chain of Evidence
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With that she left Nuala and sent a glance across to Fachtnan who was sitting beside Fiona. Fiona was taking no notice of him and was exchanging whispers with Moylan. Mara sighed and went up to Tomás.

‘I understand that there is a suspicion in your mind that the death of Garrett was not due to an accident,’ she said bluntly.

He looked at her through narrowed eyelids, but said nothing.

‘This is a suspicion that you should have brought to me first before talking to any of your guests,’ she said forcibly. ‘In these cases the truth can only be ascertained by a careful sifting of the evidence. However, since it has been spoken of to the people assembled here, then I must deal with it now. Please ask everyone to sit down and I will address them in five minutes. And if any are missing from the room, summon them and summon all of your servants who were present here in the castle on the evening of Bealtaine – with the exception of Slaney’s personal maid who will need to remain with her mistress.’

She left him to bustle around and beckoned to her scholars, withdrawing into a window embrasure where they could talk unheard. Nuala was busy talking with Peadar and she did not disturb her. Nuala had given her information and Mara knew that everything she had said seemed to point to a deliberate murder.

‘Well, Moylan,’ she said quietly. ‘How did you get on with Caelyn?’

‘Very well,’ teased Aidan. ‘He . . .’

Mara gave him a stern look and Aidan flushed uncomfortably and fixed his eyes on his friend’s face with an attentive face.

‘I obtained the information that you were interested in, Brehon,’ said Moylan demurely. ‘The girl was one of those who were deputed to wash the body and to burn the clothing. But she first asserted that she had no memory of a chain around the ankle. When I asked her if she were sure, she pretended to be annoyed that I doubted her word. First she got another maid to agree with her and then she dragged me out to the stables. Apparently Ardal sent two grooms to carry the body to the castle. I’d reckon that one of those grooms is a
sweetheart
of Caelyn . . .’

‘And?’ Mara tried to keep the impatience from her voice.

‘And she was making faces at him, but this man said that there was a chain. He and Caelyn had an argument about it, but he stuck to what he said. He said that it was all trampled and covered in cow filth, but he did think it was a chain. I don’t think he’s too bright. He didn’t seem to have wondered why a chain was there in the first place, but he was positive.’

‘Did you ask him whether the chain was broken?’ demanded Shane.

Moylan nodded. ‘I did. For a while he couldn’t think – in the end he said that he thought it was not. He said it was a short chain.’

‘And Caelyn didn’t see it,’ stated Aidan with a nod.

‘That’s what she said,’ agreed Moylan. ‘But that’s not the end of the story.’ He gave a self-conscious flick to his hair and a slight smile parted his lips.

‘Go on,’ said Mara. She was beginning to guess what came next.

‘Well, she was trying to make the groom jealous, I think,’ said Moylan trying to sound modest, ‘but she was flirting with me and I –’ his eyes slid across to Fiona’s and he grinned – ‘well, I gave her a kiss and told her that I swore she would not get into trouble so . . . in the end she told me that they, the maids, got rid of everything including the piece of chain, but they were scared to say it in case their mistress would turn them out of the house. She had screamed at them that there had been no such thing. You remember, Brehon, Slaney was very loud in swearing to us that there had not been a chain.’

‘I do, indeed, Moylan, and you have done very well,’ said Mara deciding to ignore the dubious methods that he had used. ‘And you know what this means, all of you?’

Fachtnan nodded. ‘The death of Garrett MacNamara was no accident, but a secret and unlawful killing,’ he said thoughtfully.

Nine
An Seanchas Mór
(the Great Ancient Tradition)

The fine for killing a person is fixed at forty-two
séts
, or twenty-one ounces of silver or twenty-one milch cows.

To this is added the honour price of the victim.

An unacknowledged killing is classified as
duinethaoide
and this doubles the fine to be paid making it forty-two ounces of silver or forty-one milch cows.

Críth Gablach
(Ranks in Society)

The honour price for a
taoiseach
is ten séts or five ounces of silver or five cows. A secret and unlawful killing of a
taoiseach
would bring a fine of forty-six ounces of silver or forty-six cows.

B
y the time that Moylan had finished telling his story the hall was full. Mara stepped forward and stood in front of the fire, allowing the members of the MacNamara clan, and their servants, to gather in front of her. Her law school, Fachtnan, Moylan, Aidan, Fiona, Hugh and Shane flanked her on one side, standing neatly in height order and gazing
impassively
at the crowd.

Mara waited until the murmurs ceased and then took one step forward, greeting them all in a pleasant manner and telling them that she had something important to say. ‘The death of your
taoiseach
Garrett MacNamara may not have been an accident, but may have been a deliberate killing,’ she said decisively. ‘I as Brehon of the Burren, the representative of King Turlough Donn in this kingdom, will investigate the killing and if I find that it was a deliberate act of violence, and not a terrible accident, I will impose a penalty on the guilty person who will have to answer for this crime before God and before me at the ancient judgement place of Poulnabrone,’ she said now speaking slowly and deliberately, her eyes wandering from one face to another. ‘It appears from what my physician has discovered that the victim had not eaten for hours before his death, although you were all at supper when the marauders drove the cattle along the Carron. Perhaps, Tomás, you could tell me whether Garrett had joined you at supper?’

‘He did not, Brehon,’ said Tomás.

Mara frowned. ‘Does anyone know why? It seems strange that guests should eat without the presence of their host.’

‘Neither Garrett, nor his wife, was present at the supper, Brehon, nor had they been present at the midday meal.’ He had answered readily but there was something about his eyes, a sly gleam that she mistrusted. Still she obliged him by asking whether he knew why.

‘The wife of the
taoiseach
had not graced the table since the announcement about taking a second wife and recognising a son,’ he said drily. ‘Several reports had been heard of violent quarrels between them so no one was surprised when we ate alone.’

‘I was there at midday, Brehon,’ said Jarlath readily. ‘My brother was not there so I took the head of the table. As for the evening meal, I was absent as I had gone to Poulnabrone and afterwards had begun the climb up Mullaghmore Mountain when the news came of the cattle raid. As you know I returned here as soon as possible and found all were agitated about the loss of the cows. By then my brother must have been dead.’

There was an indifferent note in his voice, thought Mara. The brothers had had little affection for each other.

‘I saw the late
taoiseach
just before the midday meal,’ volunteered one woman.

‘That’s very useful,’ said Mara enthusiastically. ‘Where was he?’

‘Going up the stairs towards the main bedrooms,’ said the woman colouring slightly and looking across at Tomás’s wife, Cait.

Mara surveyed the crowd. A few of them had gone to Poulnabrone out of curiosity, but the majority would not have bothered and would have stayed within the castle or outside in its grounds. They were people from Thomond and they had no interest in the legal affairs or ceremonies of Burren. The MacNamara clan on the Burren would not have been guests at the castle, though they should have been invited to any ceremony, such as a wake or an inauguration. They would, of course, be staying in their own houses on their farms. If Garrett MacNamara had been killed just before the cattle stampeded through Carron, then it was almost certain that he had been killed by someone present at the MacNamara castle at that time.

‘I would now ask all who were not present either in the castle, or in the grounds of the castle near to the time the marauders herded the stolen cattle through Carron, to please leave this hall now. Fachtnan, would you go to the doorway and write down the names of all who leave; Hugh, would you assist him?’ Mara waited until Fachtnan and Hugh were in position before waving a hand to give those not involved permission to withdraw. Nuala was the first to leave, bestowing a warm smile on Fachtnan as she went unhesitatingly through the door. She was closely followed by Peadar, who was beginning to remind Mara of an overgrown, but devoted puppy, and then Rhona in conversation with Jarlath and then a couple of men and their wives from Thomond. Mara vaguely
remembered
seeing them at Poulnabrone, but reminded herself to check these names rigorously later on.

Soon the small crowd had left and Mara allowed her face to become very serious. She knew what had been happening before she had interrupted Stephen Gardiner. The MacNamara clan had wanted this crime solved and the person responsible punished. It was odd that they had immediately believed that it was a murder. After all, she had only gradually become sure of that fact herself.

Or was it that a scapegoat had been found almost immediately and the instinct which makes a pack of dogs dangerous, though individual dogs within it may be mild, that instinct had taken over and the crowd had scented blood?

I must be very open in this investigation, thought Mara, thoughts flashing rapidly through her head as she waited for everyone to settle down. This was not like the usual cases of law-breaking among the people of the Burren. Those of her own kingdom, where she had been Brehon for almost twenty years, trusted her implicitly. Among these people from Thomond, the same trust would not be forthcoming. For a moment she considered sending for Brehon MacClancy from their own kingdom, but then her pride stiffened her back. She would work this one out carefully, share her findings with those concerned and would leave all those people who had been involved satisfied that justice had been done.

‘According to the physician, Garrett MacNamara was dead when his body was trampled by the stampeding cattle,’ she said in a low, clear voice, which she knew from experience would reach the outer corners of the large hall. ‘The question is, how did the body of a man get placed on the roadway in front of the herd?’ She looked around, inviting replies or speculation.

There was no answer to her question. Several people glanced at Tomás who stood to one side, as though physically separating himself from them.

‘Another matter is puzzling,’ continued Mara riding over the hostile silence as smoothly as she could. She smiled on the crowd and hoped that she sounded totally at ease. ‘This,’ she said in a conversational tone of voice, ‘is very strange, because it appears that when the body was first discovered there was a chain, a short length of chain tied around the ankle of the dead man. My informant,’ she said looking well away from the corner where the servants clustered in an uneasy group, ‘was Ardal O’Lochlainn,
taoiseach
of the O’Lochlainn clan here in the Burren. He is an intelligent and reliable man and I have complete faith in him and am as certain as I possibly can be that a chain had been tied to the ankle of Garrett MacNamara – and I do believe that this chain played some part in his death. Would anyone like to comment on this?’ She waited for a few minutes, but the silence was complete and the people sat eerily still.

‘Has a piece of chain been missed from anywhere?’ This time Mara looked directly at the grooms, but heads were shaken. ‘I shall question any not present afterwards,’ she continued imperturbably. From what she could see there was no sign of Brennan the dismissed cowherd. ‘Now, I would like to ask you all to bring to your minds the last occasion on which you saw Garrett MacNamara. This is a castle full of clocks,’ she went on. ‘I can see one here in the hall, and there is one downstairs near to—’

‘Brehon,’ interrupted Tomás, ‘it seems to me that you may be wasting your valuable time on chains and clocks and such things. I think that all here are sure of what happened on that terrible day when our
taoiseach
met his death beneath the hoofs of a thousand cows.’ His voice rose up, powerful and compelling and Mara found that it drowned out her words. ‘We know what happened,’ he boomed, each word like the stroke of a brass drum. ‘You would say, wouldn’t you, that a man must be mad to go down and face that stampede. You would say that no man could hope to stop them; could hope to control them. And you would be right.’ He paused and then raised his voice even higher, pointing a dramatic finger at her. ‘But what if the man was not in his senses? What if he had been driven out of his senses? We have all heard, have we not, of spells being cast, of incantations being chanted, of shape-shifting, of magic-wielding women; of herbal mixtures that make men have strange dreams, of—’

‘That’s enough,’ snapped Mara. ‘It is for me to talk and for you to listen. I warn you, Tomás, that the king is already in the Burren and soon will be on his way up here. I should be sorry to tell him that I find the clan’s choice of a new
taoiseach
to be an unacceptable one.’ She waited for a moment for the threat to sink in and then said in a calmer voice, ‘I will ask my five scholars to seat themselves over there by the wall at the trestle table. Please form into six lines and give to one of them your name, where you were when the cattle came into Carron, and when you last saw your
taoiseach,
Garrett MacNamara. Fachtnan, perhaps you could assist in the formation of the lines.’ She felt slightly shaken. There had been a strange hypnotic quality about Tomás’s voice which for a moment had seemed to rob her of speech. Her commonsense re-asserted itself; though. She held the whip hand. To her as Brehon of the Burren he might feel that he owed no allegiance, but as wife of his king, he had to recognise that her influence might be sufficient to deny him a position which he
obviously
so badly wanted.

BOOK: Chain of Evidence
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