Fidelma glanced down at the crucifix she was holding in her hand. It was the one which Muirgel had been holding. Fidelma had almost forgotten it during the last few minutes while she tried to seek an explanation for the mystery.
‘What’s that?’ enquired the captain, noticing Fidelma studying it.
‘Her crucifix. It must have comforted her during the last few minutes of her life. She was holding it in her hand when she died.’
‘A pious woman,’ Murchad observed, indicating a larger and more ostentatious crucifix still around the dead woman’s neck.
Fidelma gazed down at the crucifix in her hand. It was of an entirely different style to that worn by Muirgel. Albeit smaller, it was of a more tasteful workmanship, and she suddenly realised that this crucifix did not belong to Muirgel. She turned it over in her hand thoughtfully. It was only on the second time of turning it over that she suddenly realised that a name was scratched on it.
‘Hold the lamp nearer,’ she instructed Murchad.
He did so.
The lines of the marks were faint but the name was easily discernible. Canair.
Fidelma pursed her lips thoughtfully.
‘Did you ever meet this Sister Canair?’ she asked Murchad.
‘I never saw her. The passage money, like your own, was negotiated by the Abbey of St Declan before the pilgrims arrived. I knew the names of the pilgrims only and they had to tally with the number booked for the passage. Eleven passage fares were paid, but only ten people came on board plus yourself. I was told that this Sister Canair, who was leading the pilgrims, had not arrived at Ardmore and, as we had to sail with the tide …’ He made a dismissive gesture with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘What can we do now?’
Fidelma hesitated a moment or so before making up her mind.
‘I will continue as before, but now we have a body to prove the crime. Initially it seems that some things might begin to make sense. For example, it explains why Brother Guss, who claimed to be in love with Muirgel, was not distraught with grief when we all thought she had been swept overboard. He obviously knew that she was still alive. However, my suspicions as to who the culprit is have to be altered. I am afraid that I am no nearer solving this mystery than I was before. There are still many more questions to be asked.’
Fidelma looked at the captain.
‘Everyone is still at breakfast, I suppose? Will you fetch Brother Tola and Brother Guss here? Do not allow them to come into the cabin until I ask them. Oh, and can you spare one of your sailors to come down here? I think we shall need to put a guard on this cabin.’
Murchad went off without further comment. After a short while, there was a tap on the door. A ruddy-faced sailor put his head around it. ‘My name is Drogon, lady. The captain says you want someone down here.’
‘I do. Stand outside and make sure no one comes into this cabin unless I say.’
Drogon raised his fist to his brow in salute and withdrew. A moment or two later, she heard Brother Tola’s querulous tones outside demanding to know why he had been summoned. Fidelma went to the door.
‘Come in, Brother Tola,’ she ordered curtly. Then, seeing Brother Guss behind him, she added: ‘Wait there. I will speak with you in a moment.’
Brother Tola came in with a frown.
‘Well, what now?’ he demanded, looking around him in distaste.
Fidelma went to the bunk and raised the lantern over the dead body.
Brother Tola let out a gasp and took a step nearer.
‘Who is this, Brother Tola?’ Fidelma asked, her eyes not leaving his face.
An expression of utter amazement crossed it and he bent forward shaking his head.
‘It is Sister Muirgel,’ he whispered. ‘What does this mean? I thought she had been swept overboard.’
There was no questioning the genuineness of his surprise.
‘Return to the others, Tola,’ Fidelma instructed quietly, ‘and do not say anything about this until I come along, which will be shortly. Tell Brother Guss to come in as you leave.’
Shaking his head a little, the shocked religieux left. Fidelma was disappointed. She had been almost counting on some sign that Tola was not exactly astonished to see the body of Muirgel. She was certain that he was not that good an actor. He was as bewildered at the reappearance of Muirgel as she was. There was a cough and the young monk entered.
Again, Fidelma simply held the lantern high and watched his face.
‘Who is this, Brother Guss?’
The young man’s face went white, drained of blood and he staggered back. Fidelma thought he was going to faint for a moment. His hands went to his face and he emitted a heartrending groan.
‘Muirgel! Oh my God, Muirgel!’ He started to rock back and forth on his heels.
Fidelma hung up the lantern and pushed him gently into a chair.
‘You have some explaining to do, Brother Guss. You knew that Sister Muirgel was still alive when I questioned you yesterday. You did not show this grief when we all presumed her to be washed overboard. Where has she been hiding and why?’
‘I loved Muirgel,’ the youth sobbed quietly.
‘And you knew that she was still alive?’
‘Yes, I knew,’ he confirmed between sobs.
‘Why did she go to such an elaborate charade, pretending that she had been swept overboard?’
‘She feared that she was going to be killed,’ he wept.
Fidelma examined him curiously.
‘Are you saying that she hid herself somewhere on board this ship because she felt in danger of her life?’
The young man nodded, trying to control his grief-stricken sobs.
‘Why did she come aboard ship in the first place if she believed that? Isn’t a ship the last place to find refuge in?’
‘She did not realise that she would be the next victim until after she came aboard. Then it was too late, for we had set sail. So she arranged to hide and I helped her.’
‘The next victim?’ Fidelma asked abruptly, picking up on the word.
‘Sister Canair had been killed before we came aboard.’
‘Canair?’ Fidelma’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Are you telling me that when Sister Muirgel and yourself came aboard this ship, you both knew that Sister Canair was dead?’
‘It is a long story, Sister,’ Brother Guss gulped, having managed to get his emotions under control.
‘Then let us begin it. What was the purpose of Sister Muirgel hiding in the ship and not remaining in her cabin?’
‘The idea was to hide from the murderer, and then I would smuggle her off at our first landing-place. That was to be the island of Ushant. We hoped to land there under the cover of darkness and remain in hiding there until after the ship sailed again, taking the murderer with it.’
‘A curious plan. Why not simply take your story to the captain? If you knew that a murderer was on board and attempting to kill …’
‘It was Muirgel’s idea. She felt that no one would believe her. They will have to now.’ The young Brother shuddered in deep distress.
‘So the murderer was on board. Did you know their identity?’
Guss shook his head sadly.
‘I did not know, not for sure. Muirgel knew but refused to tell me. She wanted to protect me. However, I can guess who it was.’
The youth was still suffering from deep emotional shock for he spoke as if he were a somnambulist, slowly and deliberately, his eyes unfocused.
In other circumstances Fidelma would have tended to him, given him a strong drink, but she needed information and she needed it quickly. Reaching into her habit, she pulled out the small silver crosswhich Sister Muirgel had been clutching in her hand and held it up before his eyes.
‘Do you recognise this?’ she demanded.
Guss gave an hysterical laugh.
‘It belonged to Sister Canair.’
‘How do you know that Canair is dead? Or is that something else that only Muirgel knew for certain?’