Eye of the Law (19 page)

‘I’m ready now, Brehon.’ Seán’s rather vacant face peeped in through the door. ‘Brigid said you need me to ride over to Inchiquin. Some sort of message, she said.’

Seán’s voice held an inquiring note, but Mara did not respond. There was no real secret about Becan’s death, but if Seán felt that he had a piece of interesting news to impart he would stop at every farm on his route and the message would not get to Turlough before noon.

‘That’s right,’ she said briefly, handing him the scroll and watching carefully until he had stored it safely into his satchel. ‘Make as good time as you can, won’t you? I may have another errand for you.’ That, hopefully, would get him back quickly. He was easily bored by routine farm work and loved to ride out on the Brehon’s business. ‘Send the scholars into me, Seán, will you, if they’ve finished their breakfast?’

‘I’ll need you all to do a task for me this morning,’ she said as they crowded into the schoolhouse, jostling against each other playfully. ‘It was something that we should have done before now, but this case has been confusing. We’ll take a look at this map that the O’Lochlainn got Liam to draw out for me.’

She went to the top shelf of the wooden press and took out the piece of vellum. ‘You see, from the evidence taken from Ardal’s men, who were all working in those fields here –’ she pointed with a long finger, before continuing – ‘you can see there was no possibility of Iarla going the direct route from Lissylisheen as he would undoubtedly have been seen, therefore he must have gone back towards Lemeanah through the Ballymurphy lands and then come from Lemeanah back up through Shesmore, Carron, Poulawack and then turned down towards Kilcorney. Now I want you boys to visit every house on that route and enquire whether they saw any sign of the stranger from Aran on the early morning of Thursday the twentieth of March. Take your pens, inkhorns and some vellum in your satchels. It’s a wide area to cover so I am going to trust you to work quickly and bring back the results to me as soon as possible.’

‘So who’s doing what?’ Aidan sat up very straight with an air of energy that was quite alien to his usual lethargic attitude.

None of the scholars had mentioned Becan so Nuala must have kept quiet about this second murder. This showed an unusual degree of maturity in a girl of only fourteen, thought Mara, musing on the puzzle of how a father could not see what an exceptional daughter he possessed.

‘What about Kilcorney itself?’ asked Enda, studying the sketch map with interest.

‘I’ll do that,’ said Mara, turning her mind back to business. ‘At least,’ she amended, ‘I had planned to see the basket maker and his family, but thank you for reminding me, Enda; there are also the priest and his housekeeper at Kilcorney. It’s possible that they may have seen something. I hadn’t thought about the priest.’

‘Probably because he is as old as the hills and as blind as a bat,’ muttered Moylan under his breath.

Mara ignored this. She had long ago decided to allow her scholars to give vent to their witticisms and complaints as long as they did not force her to acknowledge that she had heard them.

‘So Fachtnan and Hugh, I’d like you to go to Lemeanah. Ask questions of the guard in the gatehouse, or the porter, or anyone that you see around, but if they offer to fetch the
taoiseach
or any member of his family, just say that the Brehon will be seeing them herself.’

This was a slightly delicate errand and that was why she had chosen this pair for it. Fachtnan was tactful and very well liked by all on the Burren, and Hugh was a nephew to Teige O’Brien and his red curls and innocent blue eyes made him a favourite with all the womenfolk.

Moylan and Aidan were standing side by side looking eager and she gave them a considering glance. They were at a silly age and if partnered would probably enjoy being out of school too much to be wholly in earnest about their task.

‘Enda,’ she continued. ‘I’d like you and Aidan to start at Shesmore and work your way right up to Kilcorney. Do see the priest and his housekeeper.’ That would work out well, she thought with satisfaction. Enda was too tough to take any nonsense from Aidan and he was such a well-mannered, good-looking young man that he would be the ideal person to interview the priest.

‘So I have Shane?’ Moylan didn’t look too disappointed.

It was the first time that he had been trusted to look after one of the younger boys. Shane, Mara privately thought, had far more brains and far more sense of responsibility than had Moylan. However, the thought of being in charge was obviously enticing to Moylan so she nodded solemnly.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You’re fifteen now, so I can trust you. You and Shane have the hardest job. You’ll have to start at Ballymurphy, the townland just behind Lissyslisheen. Go right through to Noughaval, make sure that you enquire at all the houses there and then go through the churchyard, right down through Ballyganner and then come back the same way. Do you think that you can manage all of that?’

‘Sure,’ said Moylan nonchalantly.

Shane nodded vigorously.

‘We’ve got the least to do.’ Hugh sounded disappointed.

‘Yes, but I want you back quickly. I may have another task for you then.’

Mara noticed Cumhal hovering outside the window. He and Brigid always seemed to have an instinct that alerted them when anything was wrong. They would have realized that, since Turlough was expected to ride over to Cahermacnaghten tomorrow, that something must have occurred since Mara wanted to send him a message today.

‘Take your pens, ink and vellum and store them carefully in your satchels and then go and saddle your ponies,’ she said. ‘Fachtnan, could you just ask Cumhal if he can spare me a minute?’

Mara’s summonses to Cumhal were always carefully couched in terms of a request. She was always conscious that the scholars should be aware of Cumhal’s position of authority over them when she was absent and she never missed an opportunity to give him the respect that his post as farm manager entitled him to.

He was with her a minute later, but Mara waited until the boys had ridden out of the law-school gates in a noisy, cheerful cluster before turning to him.

‘Cumhal, something very sad and very worrying happened yesterday,’ she said, carefully watching him to see whether he had any knowledge of what she was about to tell him.

Yesterday afternoon he had planned to visit Donogh O’Lochlainn’s farm at Glenslade. The Cahermacnaghten farm kept a few sheep, mainly for meat purposes, and this year Cumhal had planned to exchange their ram for one from Donogh’s herd. As far as she knew he had gone over to Glenslade as intended.

He looked at her inquiringly now, but there was no sign of any flash of comprehension in his eyes. If the family of Glenslade knew anything of this second death, they, like the basket maker’s family, were not speaking about it.

‘Becan, the uncle of Iarla from Aran, has been murdered, and in just the same way as his nephew. I think he was killed some time early yesterday morning and I want to question the basket maker’s boys. I have a feeling that they did see the body of Iarla long before it was discovered by Fachtnan and Nuala. It’s possible that the same thing happened yesterday and that they were the first to see the body of Becan.’

Cumhal nodded. He was a man of few words, but she saw a slight look of puzzlement in his eyes. He was wondering what this was to do with him.

‘I think that I would like to question those boys, but they are uneasy and silent while their father is around. So I thought I would send you over to fetch them and bring them over here so that I could talk to them away from the parents. What do you think?’

Cumhal considered the matter for a moment. ‘Just have one of them over here, Brehon, I’d say. If you question two or three of them, they’ll be looking at each other and if one of them tells you something, he will be wondering whether the others will report back to their father.’

‘You’re right,’ said Mara enthusiastically. ‘We’ll just have the eldest then. What can we use as an excuse?’

‘Excuse?’ Brigid had come across, full of curiosity to see what was happening. She had probably guessed that something was wrong from Nuala’s gloomy face.

‘I’m doing what you suggested, Brigid. I’m getting my witnesses to come over to me, rather than me going to them. So what can I use for an excuse to summon the basket maker’s eldest son over here?’

Brigid sniffed. ‘Your father wouldn’t have bothered looking for an excuse. He’d have just sent a message. Still –’ she couldn’t resist the appeal to her inventiveness – ‘I suppose you could pretend that we need some more apple baskets. And there’s not a word of a lie about that, so help me, God! The ones we have are all breaking up. It’s the fault of the lads. They will overload them and then dump them down on the floor of the cabin with no care, just showing off to each other how strong they are.’

‘That’s a good idea.’ Mara seized on this enthusiastically. ‘That would make a good excuse to bring him over. We’ll have some smaller baskets made from heavier materials. Take the cob for him to ride on, Cumhal, so that we don’t have to delay him too long. He could look at all of our baskets, the turf ones, also. And he could advise about thickness and everything like that. The only problem is that Dalagh might wonder why I haven’t asked him.’

‘I’ll say that you wanted this boy to come. I don’t need to give any explanations.’

Cumhal, like Brigid, was very conscious of Mara’s status in the community and now he sounded quite confident that the approach would work. In his view it would be outrageous for the basket maker to question the Brehon’s wish in any way. She watched him with affection as he went instantly to the stable shouting for Séan as he went. He probably already had a myriad of other tasks lined up for the day, but her word was always law to him.

Ardal O’Lochlainn came in the gate soon after Cumhal, leading the cob, had disappeared around the corner to the Kilcorney road.

‘I met Cumhal,’ he said as he dismounted, handing the reins of his handsome stallion to Donie who looked honoured to have such a fine horse under his care.

Mara smiled a welcome. ‘Come inside, Ardal, come into the schoolhouse. I’ve sent all of my scholars out on errands so we will have it to ourselves.’ She did not answer his unspoken question.

‘I was wondering if you wanted me to go and see the king and tell him about the latest death.’ He followed her into the schoolhouse.

‘That’s been already done, thank you, Ardal.’

‘So Cumhal is going to Kilcorney. What about . . .?’ He looked at her inquisitively, and then finished by saying, ‘What about the burial?’

Mara had a feeling that was not the question that he intended to ask, but she answered readily.

‘I’m waiting until I hear from the king, but my feeling is that the body has to be sent back to Aran. This man has a wife and family over there. It was different with Iarla.’

‘Well, if you need anyone to escort the body, Brehon, I would be at your service.’

‘Thank you, Ardal; I’m very grateful to you. And thank you for lending your gelding yesterday. Would it be possible for you to lead it back with you or would you prefer if I sent a man over with it later on?’

He took the hint, rising immediately. He had not asked after his niece, Mara noticed, and she was determined not to mention Nuala’s name unless he did.

Cumhal was back quite soon afterwards. He must have ridden at a fine speed along the road to Kilcorney and negotiations had been conducted with the basket maker at quite a quick, decisive pace.

The eldest son of the basket maker was a fine boy, thought Mara as she came out to meet and greet him. He had an intelligent face with finely moulded bones – no sign of lack of feeding or lack of care in his well-formed body and bold eyes.

‘This is Danann, Brehon,’ said Cumhal, carefully polite. His eyes showed an appreciation of this youth and of his bearing.

‘Perhaps Danann would like a cup of ale and some honey cakes before you bring him to see your requirements for apple baskets?’ queried Mara.

Cumhal immediately nodded and with a quick, ‘I’ll see to that, Brehon,’ he left her alone with Danann.

‘Come in,’ said Mara, walking directly into the schoolhouse. He followed her; she knew he would do so. He would have been trained to automatic obedience from a very early age.

‘What passes between us now, Danann, will stay between us.’ Mara’s tone was confident and matter-of-fact and she kept her eyes fixed on the boy and a friendly smile on her face. ‘You are old enough to know that there are certain things that adults feel that children can’t handle. I can understand and I’m sure that you also can understand that your father did not want you, or any of your brothers, involved in this affair of the murder of the man from Aran.’

He kept his eyes fixed upon her. He did not answer – not even to nod, but she felt that he understood her point and that he was not afraid.

‘I think last Thursday, you, or perhaps it was one of your brothers, saw the ravens hovering over the spot where the dead body of Iarla, the young man from Aran, lay murdered.’

She stopped there and eyed him in a friendly, straightforward way. He said nothing for a moment, but then, eventually, nodded.

‘I was the one that noticed them,’ he said.

‘And went over there?’ Purposely her question came quickly – she wanted to catch him off-guard, to jerk him into telling the matter as it really occurred, to give him no time to consider his father’s attitude.

‘Yes,’ he said, the word spurting from him as if beyond his control.

‘And then you went back and told your father?’

‘Yes.’ This time the word was steadier. He was an intelligent boy. He knew that he had gone too far now. He had to see the matter out.

‘And he was alarmed?’

Danann took his time to think about this, to turn the matter around, to explain the situation to someone like the Brehon, who could not be expected to understand the life of someone like his father.