Read The Seventh Trumpet Online

Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Crime, #Fiction, #Medieval Ireland

The Seventh Trumpet (9 page)

BOOK: The Seventh Trumpet
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‘Well, what now?’ Eadulf prompted after Fidelma had been silent for a moment or two.

‘A difficult choice is to be made,’ she replied.

‘Do you think the two people who stayed with Brother Ailgesach last night have some connection with the murdered man? Why would they stay with Brother Ailgesach?’

Fidelma turned to Saer and called him over.

‘I am told that you and Sétna, a woodsman, were at the chapel last night?’

The carpenter looked surprised. ‘We were,’ he agreed. ‘Sétna helped me carry some roofing planks for the chapel.’

‘Did you see Brother Ailgesach’s visitors?’

Saer’s face was blank. ‘Visitors?’

Fidelma tried another tack. ‘You and Sétna took the wood to the chapel. Was it dark when you both left?’

‘I had to leave before dark. I left Sétna marking the planks for use.’

‘Ah,’ Fidelma let out a soft breath. ‘So Sétna remained behind. And what time did you go to work on the chapel roof today?’

‘I suppose it was after the sun reached its zenith. I had to do some work on my own cabin before I went to the chapel. In fact, I had barely arrived when you and your party came by, lady.’

‘So that makes sense,’ muttered Eadulf after she had thanked him for the information. ‘Brother Ailgesach’s two visitors had already left. So now we have to wait until Brother Ailgesach sobers up and tells us who they were.’

‘That is one choice,’ Fidelma agreed.

Eadulf stared at her. ‘You propose to wait here until that time? Why, it will be tomorrow at least. It would be just as easy to set out after the two and follow them north, trying to overtake and question them.’

Fidelma ignored the sarcasm in his tone. ‘That had occurred to me.’

‘Maybe they were simply relatives. Being religious does not exclude one from coming from a noble family. Mind you, that would mean they were also relatives this Brother Biasta.’

‘This is true,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘There is one thing that troubles me about Brother Biasta. How did we come to miss him on the highway?’

Eadulf was unsure what she meant.

‘The chapel is within walking distance to the south,’ she said. ‘Do you agree?’ When Eadulf conceded the fact, she went on: ‘We rode our horses north up the highway until we came to the tavern – but saw no sign of this Brother Biasta, who says he came down from the north. We have not been in here long enough for him to pass by the tavern, reach the chapel, speak with Saer and then return here with him. He was not on the highway nor have any merchants’ carts passed.’

Eadulf thought about the matter. ‘The logical conclusion is that he did not come down the highway but rode across country or came up from the south.’

‘Yet he
said
that he came from the north,’ Fidelma emphasised.

‘Then we will ask him to explain how that was possible when he comes back.’

At that moment the door opened, but it was not Brother Biasta. It was Fedach Glas who returned by himself.

‘I pointed to the cabin and left Brother Biasta to make his own greetings with his cousin. Not that they will be able to have much of an intelligible exchange.’ The innkeeper went to the bar and poured himself a small beaker of ale and swallowed half of it in one gulp.

‘So long as one of them is ready to perform the services for the burial of the unknown corpse by midnight,’ Saer reminded them.

Eadulf had nearly forgotten that corpses were usually interred at midnight on the day of death.

‘I presume that Brother Ailgesach has not endeared himself to this community since he came here?’ Eadulf rose and went to join Fedach Glas.

‘We hardly know him,’ the man replied. ‘Though I suppose he has been a good customer in my tavern during these past two weeks. But he has never spoken properly to any of us. He mumbles curious phrases, that is all. As to his background, he is very secretive.’

‘But you, Saer, you have worked for him, during the time he has been here. I am sure that you must have picked up some knowledge about him.’

Saer shrugged. ‘Only that he is very fearful of people, particularly of strangers. Perhaps fear has caused him to indulge too freely in drink. I can certainly add nothing more.’

‘Could you tell me what manner of man he is?’ Eadulf asked. ‘Is he well-read? Does he come from a noble family? Do you know anything at all?’

‘How could I tell who is well read or not?’ countered Saer. ‘He was always quoting some text or other, so I suppose he has read the Holy Book, but I had no understanding of it. He has said strange things; sometimes frightening things.’

‘Such as the words he cried before he fell into unconsciousness?’ Eadulf suggested. ‘Have you heard such words before?’

‘Similar words, I suppose,’ admitted the tavern-keeper.

Eadulf was thoughtful for a moment, but before he had time to frame his next question, the door burst open.

Brother Biasta stood on the threshold looking dishevelled, his pale face even whiter than it had been before. It seemed that he was unable to form any coherent sentence and for a moment or two he just stood with his mouth opening and closing like a fish newly caught.

‘My cousin –’ he began; then he paused and swallowed, peering round at them in a distraught manner. ‘My cousin … he is dead!’

CHAPTER SIX

E
veryone was moving towards the door when Fidelma’s sharp tone of command halted them.

‘Stay where you are, please. Eadulf and I will examine the body. Fedach Glas, you will come with us to show us where Brother Ailgesach is.’

‘But …’ began the tavern-keeper.

‘I am taking charge as a
dálaigh
,’ Fidelma said with quiet authority. ‘Eadulf has been trained in the apothecary’s art. I shall need his advice. Gormán, you and Enda will remain here.’

Outside, Fedach Glas conducted them towards one of the small log cabins which apparently provided overnight accommodation for the tavern guests. He pushed open the door and went inside with Fidelma and Eadulf following. The small dormitory room contained four wooden cots arranged along the walls on either side. They could see the rotund form of Brother Ailgesach stretched on the cot nearest the door.

The tavern-keeper waited by the entrance while Eadulf went forward to examine the corpse.

The body lay flat on its back, the hands slightly clenched as if they were trying to form fists, but both arms rested in a straight line on either side. Eadulf saw traces of vomit around the mouth and across the front of the robes. The eyes were closed although the mouth was slightly open. The body appeared to be in repose.

Eadulf immediately searched for any signs of life, but the body was already growing cold, the skin slightly mottled. He noticed dried blood around the nostrils. Then Eadulf, wrinkling his nose in distaste, bent forward and tried to ease the mouth further open, peering inside. He sighed and rose, turning round to face them.

‘Brother Ailgesach is certainly dead,’ he announced.

‘And the cause?’ asked Fidelma quietly.

‘To all appearances, it would seem that he went to sleep in a drunken stupor and choked on his own vomit.’

Fedach Glas, standing behind them, was looking anxious.

‘Am I responsible for this?’ he muttered.

Fidelma turned to the tavern-keeper. ‘In what manner do you mean – responsible?’ she asked.

‘I am a tavern-keeper. I served him with the drink. And now he has died in my tavern. Isn’t there some law …?’

‘As I understand the laws relating to drunkenness, you have no responsibility in this. Only if you had forced the man to drink against his will would you be culpable. As this was clearly not the case, then you are exonerated from any recompense to his family.’

Fedach Glas looked relieved.

‘I would go back to the others,’ Eadulf suggested to him. ‘I need to speak with Fidelma so that we can clarify the matter.’

Eadulf opened the door of the cabin for the tavern-keeper and watched him for a moment as he hurried back to the main building.

‘What is wrong?’ Fidelma asked, after he had closed the door.

‘I believe Brother Ailgesach was murdered,’ replied Eadulf as he turned back to the corpse. ‘It is unusual that the eyes are closed, for someone who has just had a seizure and choked on their own vomit.’

‘Perhaps Biasta closed the eyes. That is something I have seen people do automatically when confronted with death.’

‘Well,’ continued Eadulf, ‘for one who goes to sleep full of alcohol and is seized by sickness, choking on his own vomit, the corpse is quite composed. If you were choking, even when almost incapable with drink, you would move your hands upwards, fighting for air, striving to clear your mouth and throat. The hands, as you observe, are calmly placed on either side of the body.’

‘But there is vomit on the front of his clothes,’ observed Fidelma. ‘Surely that is indication enough how he choked?’

Eadulf raised the man’s head carefully from the pillow. The cloth underneath was stained with vomit and flecks of blood.

‘That is the point. Perhaps Biasta came in and found Brother Ailgesach choking on his own vomit
face downwards
. Then he turned the body over, put the pillow neatly under the head and composed the corpse …
requiescat in pace
.’ Eadulf was rarely given to sarcasm.

Fidelma stood for a moment gazing sombrely down at the corpse of the rotund religieux before saying, ‘It still does not point to the conclusion of murder, Eadulf.’

‘Then I think this will prove it. You will notice that, unusually, there are two pillows behind his head. The soiled one and one that is only a little soiled. And look at the other cot.’ He pointed. ‘It has no pillow.’

‘What are you suggesting?’

‘My suggestion is that someone came in here and held a pillow over the man’s face. His struggle for air produced a paroxysm of vomiting and bleeding from the nose and mouth. The result was that he asphyxiated. The killer then rearranged the body, laying the arms by the side, closing the eyes and putting the pillow behind the head, hoping it would not occur to anyone that if he had choked on vomit while lying face upwards, there would hardly be vomit and blood on the pillow behind his head.’

‘And I suppose Brother Ailgesach was too drunk to stir when the killer came in and calmly removed the pillow from behind his head and commenced to suffocate him?’

Eadulf shook his head. ‘A pillow is missing from the next bed.’

‘And so?’

‘The killer grabbed the pillow from the next bed to smother him with. That is the soiled one. After the deed, the killer realised that the pillow on his victim’s bed was also soiled. So he could not put either pillow back on the next bed. They were both soiled and this would be noticed. So he left the two pillows on Brother Ailgesach’s bed and hoped no connection would be made.’

Fidelma nodded slowly in approval. ‘You’ve touched the thing with a needle,’ she said, using an old saying, meaning that he had spotted matters correctly. ‘And the suspect has to be Brother Biasta?’

‘Who else? The only other choice is the tavern-keeper.’

‘We must tread this path with care, Eadulf,’ she said thoughtfully and suddenly sat down on the edge of the other cot, still staring at the dead religieux.

‘But his guilt is almost beyond question,’ protested Eadulf.

‘“Almost” is a word that contains many questions.’

‘But …’

‘You forget that we came here to find out who the dead envoy was and why he was killed. There are so many questions I would have dearly wished to ask Brother Ailgesach. You see, instinct tells me these matters are connected.’

‘We have a case against Brother Biasta which also needs to be answered,’ said Eadulf. ‘Why, he might even be the killer of the noble as well as his cousin.’

‘Oh, we will ask him questions, have little fear of it,’ Fidelma promised. ‘However, I do not want to put Biasta in a corner so that he sees no way out. Not yet anyway. I want to find out what else he knows. Maybe he can identify the people who stayed with his cousin last night.’

‘So how shall we approach this matter?’

‘We will pretend that we have noticed nothing untoward and that we accept the theory that Brother Ailgesach has choked on his own vomit. We will express curiosity about him, which is natural, and see if Brother Biasta will lead us anywhere.’

Eadulf smiled without humour. ‘Like playing a fish with a line,’ he sighed. ‘But remember, fish can be elusive and slither off your hook.’

Fidelma smiled reflectively. ‘Since we talk in fishing similes, Eadulf, I remember what an old mentor of mine once told me about the art. When you have a strong fish that wants to run, let it run. Let its fear and strength work for you. Then, when it is weak and exhausted, only then do you haul it in.’

Eadulf shrugged. ‘I’ll be surprised if this fish will lead us anywhere.’

‘Well, let us start the fish running,’ Fidelma said, moving to the door.

There was quiet in the main tavern room when they re-entered. Brother Biasta was seated, sipping at a beaker of
corma
. Saer was also drinking and did not look at all concerned at the events around him. Fedach Glas and his wife Grella stood together, their expressions strained, while Gormán and Enda had taken up positions near to the door, almost as if they were sentinels.

BOOK: The Seventh Trumpet
6.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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