‘I saw her body. We saw it together.’
‘Are you sure that it was Canair?’
‘I am not likely to forget the sight of that corpse.’
‘When was this?’
‘It was the night before we came on board ship.’
‘At the Abbey of Ardmore?’
‘Not at the abbey. Muirgel and I did not stay there all that night.’
Fidelma was almost beyond being surprised by the contrary turns to the story.
‘I thought that your entire party stayed at the Abbey.’
‘Our company arrived at the Abbey during the late afternoon. Prior to our arrival, Sister Canair had told us that she was going to visit someone nearby and left us before we reached the Abbey. She said that she would join us later. If she arrived too late, she said that she would simply meet us on the quay at dawn. The Abbot had already booked our passage on The Barnacle Goose so there was nothing to be done but meet and go on board.’
‘I see. But Sister Canair did not turn up on the quay the next morning, did she?’
‘No. She was dead by then.’
‘So when did you know that she was dead?’
‘We had arrived at the Abbey, as I say. Most of our company was exhausted and retired to their beds. Muirgel whispered to me that she was going for a walk before retiring. She told me to meet her outside the Abbey gates and come without being seen. Crella was dogging her the whole time, getting on her nerves. She said she wanted to be alone with me. I told you — we were in love.’
‘Go on,’ prompted Fidelma when he paused. ‘Did you meet her outside?’
‘I did. She was in good humour and … and a very wicked humour, too. She told me that there was a tavern at the bottom of the hill and we could spend the night there without anyone finding us or interfering.’
‘Did you agree to that?’
‘Of course.’
‘And you spent the night at this inn?’
‘Some of it.’
‘And Sister Canair? Where does she come into this story?’
Brother Guss took in a deep breath and expelled it as a long sigh. ‘We … after we … sometime after we were in bed — in the tavern, that is — we heard the sound of scuffling in the next room. We did not think anything of it. Then there was a sort of cry and we heard someone hurrying down the corridor. We would not have taken any notice except we heard moaning coming from the next room.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Out of curiosity Muirgel went to the door and listened for a moment. Then she looked out into the corridor. The door of the next room was slightly ajar and a candle was flickering inside. She went in to see if she could help, for someone was obviously in pain.’
The young man came to a halt. His mouth appeared to have gone dry and Fidelma helped him to some water from a jug. After a pause he continued.
‘Muirgel came hurrying back to me. She was shocked and upset. She whispered: “It’s Sister Canair!” I went into the room and saw Canair lying on the bed; she had been stabbed several times in the chest, around the heart. Then it seemed her throat had been cut.’
Fidelma’s eyes narrowed.
‘That was surely indicative of a frenzied attack,’ she commented.
Brother Guss did not respond.
Fidelma prompted him again.
‘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.’