‘Yet you say that she was still alive? You said you heard her moaning?’
‘Her dying breaths, so it turned out,’ the young man replied. ‘She was dead by the time I went into the room. I covered her body with the blanket from the bed and blew out the candle. Then I went back to Muirgel.’
‘Was she dead when Muirgel entered the room? Did Canair say anything before she died?’
Brother Guss shook his head.
‘Muirgel saw the wounds and panicked. She did not check and even if she had, the woman was already beyond uttering any intelligible sound.’
‘Was there a sign of the weapon that inflicted the wounds?’
‘I did not see a weapon, but then I was too shaken to investigate. We sat a long time discussing what we should do. It was Muirgel’s idea that we simply leave the tavern and return to the Abbey, and pretend that we had been there all night.’
‘But the tavernkeeper would have given evidence that you had been there.’
‘We didn’t think of that.’
‘Why didn’t you raise the alarm? Perhaps the murderer could have been discovered.’
‘Because it would have meant revealing that we had been in the next room. Our presence would have been made known to the murderer, our journey would have had to be cancelled. There were all manner of complications.’
He looked shamefaced.
‘It seems silly and selfish now, I agree, but it did not seem so to us at the time; not when we sat in the room next to that awful corpse. You will no doubt judge us harshly, for it is easy to be logical in the day and far away from the event.’
‘Time to judge when the facts are clear. Go on.’
‘We were back at the Abbey before dawn.’
‘You were not worried that the tavernkeeper would raise the alarm and, because you had fled, you might be implicated in the murder?’
‘We left money for our lodgings. We ensured that the door of Canair’s room was shut and hoped it would be well after dawn when her body was discovered. We believed everyone was still asleep but, as we were leaving, we saw the tavernkeeper loading his cart by torchlight outside. He did not see us. We hurried back to the Abbey, and took our seats in the refectory, so that when other members of our party appeared, they did not question that we had spent the night there.’
Fidelma stroked the side of her nose with her forefinger, pondering matters. It was such a strange story that she had no doubt that the young man spoke the truth.
‘And was everyone else at the Abbey, everyone in your party?’
‘Yes, they were.’
‘No one suspected that you had not spent the night there?’
Brother Guss shook his head but added, ‘I think Crella was suspicious. She kept giving us dirty looks.’
‘So Canair did not turn up and the two of you told no one your story and then you all came on board.’
Brother Guss made an affirmative gesture.
‘I thought everything was all right. Muirgel had taken charge and allotted the cabins as I told you before. She took one for herself in the hope that we might get together later. But even before we sailed, Muirgel called me into her cabin. She was pale and trembling, almost out of her mind with fear.’
‘And she told you why?’
‘She said that she knew Canair’s murderer was on board.’ He pointed to the cross Fidelma still held in her hand. ‘She saw someone wearing that cross. It was Canair’s cross and she was never without it. She once told Muirgel it was a gift from her mother. Muirgel swore that Canair was wearing it when she left us all to visit her friends. It could only have been taken afterwards from her body by the person who killed her.’
‘But that was surely not enough to frighten Sister Muirgel. She obviously recognised the person with the crucifix. She could have gone to the captain and told him everything.’
‘No! I told you – she was very frightened. She said she knew why Canair had been killed, and that she would be the next victim.’
‘Did you seek further explanation from her?’
‘I tried. When I asked her how she knew, she quoted a verse from the Bible.’
‘What verse?’ Fidelma asked quickly. ‘Can you remember?’
‘The words were something like this:
‘Wear me as a seal upon your heart,
As a seal upon your arm;
For love is strong as death,
Jealousy cruel as the grave;
It blazes up like blazing fire,
Fiercer than any flame.’
Fidelma was reflective.
‘Did she explain what she meant by it?’
Brother Guss flushed.
‘Muirgel had … had known men before me; I’ll not deny it. She told me that she and Canair had once been in love with the same man. Then she would say no more.’
‘In love with the same man? “Jealousy cruel as the grave”?’ Fidelma sighed. ‘There is a glimmer of sense here but not much. Are you sure that she told you nothing further?’
‘Just that she knew that the person who killed Canair would kill her before the voyage was done.’
‘The motive being jealousy?’
‘That’s right. She told me that she was going to lock herself in her cabin all day, pretending to be seasick.’
‘Then I came on board and young Wenbrit thought I should share her cabin,’ said Fidelma.
‘Yes — she protested at your presence, but even though you were removed she still felt vulnerable. That was when she evolved this plan to hide and leave her bloodstained robe in her cabin. She wanted people to think that murder had already taken place so that they would not search for her.’
‘She was going to pretend to be swept overboard in the storm?’
‘No. We did not know a storm would descend on us. She was simply going to leave a bloodstained robe to make it look as though she had been stabbed. The idea was to get people to think that she had been killed and thrown overboard during the night. The storm merely confused matters. People thought she had been washed overboard during the night. We then cursed ourselves for leaving the robe because it complicated matters.’
‘Indeed; had you
not
left the robe to be found, we would have accepted that Muirgel had been the victim of an accident.’ Fidelma smiled grimly. ‘And you, obviously, supplied the blood for the robe.’
Brother Guss’s right hand went automatically to his left arm and then he shrugged.
‘I cut my arm to supply the blood for the robe,’ he confirmed. ‘I did not know you had already seen the robe. I wondered why you were so interested in the fact that my arm was hurt. I had to improvise.’
‘That certainly made me suspicious of your involvement in her so-called death. Where did she hide? The mate scoured the ship without a trace being found.’
‘Simple enough. She hid under my bunk. Brother Tola is a sound sleeper. Not even the trumpets announcing the Second Coming would awake him. She had to get out now and then for obvious reasons, but did so during the night or just at dawn before anyone stirred. It was very simple. Who would think of looking under my bunk?’
‘And this morning?’
‘She rose early and felt that it would be safe to go back to her own cabin. No one, she told me, would think of looking there now that she was officially dead. I was going to join her after breakfast.’
‘What do you think happened then?’
‘She was seen and murdered by the same person who killed Sister Canair.’
‘Very well. You implied you knew who killed her, or rather, whom you suspected of killing her. Are you referring to the same person on whom you put the blame during our talk yesterday?’
‘Crella? Yes, I believe that it was she who came and muttered outside Muirgel’s door that night. It was Crella who was spying on
us. She was jealous of Canair and she was jealous of Muirgel, although she pretended to love Muirgel as her friend.’
‘But you did say that Muirgel did not reveal the name of the person whom she suspected? She did not tell you the name of the person she had seen with Canair’s cross? It is only your suspicion that it was Sister Crella?’
‘I told you, I think—’
‘I want facts,’ Fidelma cut in sharply, ‘not your suspicions.
Did
Muirgel say who she was afraid of?’
The youth shook his head.
‘She did not,’ he admitted.
Fidelma rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
‘We cannot act on suspicion, Guss. Unless you can give me something more substantial, then …’ She let the sentence hang in the air.
‘Then you are going to let Crella escape?’ Brother Guss accused angrily.
‘My concern is to discover the truth.’
The youth stared belligerently at her for a moment and then his features dissolved into a mask of misery.
‘I loved her! I would have done anything for her. Now I am afraid for my own life, for Crella must know now that I was her lover and tried to hide Muirgel. How far does her jealousy spread?’
Fidelma eyed the young man sympathetically.
‘We shall be wary, Brother Guss. In the meantime, take comfort from the thought that you loved Muirgel and if, as you say, she loved you in return, then you were twice blessed. Remember the Song of Solomon, for that is the verse which Muirgel was quoting to you. The next verse is:
‘Many waters cannot quench love;
No flood can sweep it away.’
Brother Guss could not bring himself to rejoin his companions but had returned to his own cabin to grieve alone. Fidelma joined Murchad outside the door where he was standing with the sailor named Drogon.
‘Remain on watch here, Drogon, and do not let anyone in without my permission or that of Murchad,’ she instructed him. She turned to the captain. ‘Is everyone still gathered at breakfast?’
He nodded affirmatively.
‘What will you say to them?’ he asked.
‘I shall tell them the truth. Our murderer knows the truth, so why not the others? The sooner all is revealed, the sooner the murderer may make a slip.’
Murchad followed Fidelma into the mess deck where Wenbrit was clearing the breakfast remains. The pilgrims sat in silence. Brother Tola had rejoined them and though he refused to tell them what was amiss, they all realised that something had happened. When Fidelma entered and strode to the head of the table, only Cian attempted to acknowledge her. She did not respond. Everyone fixed their eyes on her, trying to guess what news she was bringing them.
Even young Wenbrit realised something was afoot and halted, hands still filled with dirty plates.
‘We have found the body of Sister Muirgel,’ announced Fidelma.
There were several reactions as they digested the statement.
Sister Crella half-rose and then sat down again with a low moan of anguish. Sister Gormán sniggered agitatedly.
It was Brother Tola, now able to speak having had to contain himself until she arrived, who asked the first question.
‘Are you telling us that she was on board all this time? That she had not fallen overboard?’
‘I am.’
‘I don’t understand. How could she have drowned without falling overboard?’ demanded Sister Ainder.
Fidelma fixed her with a cold smile.
‘That is simple: she did not drown. She had her throat cut within the last half an hour.’
Sister Crella’s moan rose to a sharp wail.
Fidelma quickly glanced round the table. Sister Crella seemed to be the one most visibly shaken, although everyone else seemed to register some emotion.
‘Are you sure?’ It was Cian who asked the question.
‘Sure about what?’ she demanded.
Cian shifted uneasily under her sharp gaze.
‘Sure that it is Sister Muirgel of whom we speak,’ he explained lamely. ‘First we are told she is dead, then alive and now dead. Is it she or not?’
Fidelma looked across the cabin to Brother Tola.
‘It is Sister Muirgel,’ Tola confirmed quietly. ‘I identified the body. So did Brother Guss …’ He glanced round, realising for the first time that Guss had not returned.
Fidelma guessed the question he was about to form.
‘Brother Guss has gone to his cabin to lie down,’ she told them all. ‘He was very shocked as well.’
There was no sound from those at the table except Sister Crella’s sobbing.
‘Sister Muirgel met her killer within the last hour,’ Fidelma resumed. ‘Can you all account for your movements during that time?’
‘What?’ Sister Gormán was all a-flutter.
‘Are you claiming it is one of us?’
Fidelma looked at them each in turn.
‘It is certainly not one of the crew!’ She smiled thinly. ‘Sister Muirgel knew her killer. In fact, she had engineered her disappearance in order to
avoid
her killer. She hid during the day and emerged to eat and exercise during the night or early morning.’ As she spoke, Fidelma suddenly remembered something. ‘In fact, the morning after she was supposed to have been swept overboard, when that thick mist enveloped the ship, I encountered her on deck and did not recognise her. We may assume, Wenbrit, that your missing food was consumed by her.’