Brehon Faolchair shrugged. ‘You have already pointed out that she was murdered and then hoisted up to the beam.’
‘Indeed,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘The killer tried to make it look like a suicide. Why he would do so is the important question. However, at the moment I am interested in how he reached that beam.’
‘Where is the rope she was tied up with?’ asked Eadulf, an idea occurring to him. ‘If it was long enough, the killer could have simply swung it over the beam and hauled up Ciarnat’s corpse without bothering to climb there.’
Conri had dismounted from the chair and sheathed his sword. Now he was shaking his head.
‘Not with this cord, friend Eadulf,’ he commented, crossing to a table on which two pieces of cord lay. They had obviously once been one piece, now cut into two, and these ends were frayed by the stroke of the sword. The warlord picked up the pieces and held them out for all to see.
‘What is that?’ Fidelma asked, seeing them for the first time.
‘That is the cord with which she was supposed to have hanged herself, lady. I severed it when I cut her down. Socht, as he has explained, stood below to support her body when she was released, so that she did not fall.’
‘It is a short cord, even when put together,’ Fidelma observed. She estimated it was longer than deis-ceim in her native measuring system, perhaps nearly two metres.
‘Just enough to hang someone,’ Conri muttered, looking rueful.
Eadulf pointed to the three knots tied at one end. ‘But that looks like …’ he began slowly.
‘A religieux cord belt.’ Brehon Faolchair’s voice was grim.
‘It is not a fashion that I have seen often,’ Eadulf said, thankful that his own robes fastened with a leather belt. ‘Yet I am sure that I have seen it worn recently.’
‘Neither is it popular here,’ the Brehon nodded. ‘But I too have seen it worn and not so long ago.’
‘You are thinking of Brother Mac Raith from the Abbey of Imleach,’ Fidelma reminded them. ‘He wears such a rope belt.’
‘Just so.’ Brehon Faolchair looked relieved. ‘Brother Mac Raith but also his companion, Brother Mael Anfaid – both have adopted this form of cris or religious girdle.’
‘It seems odd that if a murderer was going to attempt to disguise a murder to make it look like suicide, and go to all that trouble, why would that murderer leave behind such an obvious clue to their identity?’ Eadulf mused. ‘It would be the height of stupidity.’
‘Unless it was just another attempt at disguising the real murderer,’ Fidelma said.
Brehon Faolchair’s eyes narrowed in thought. ‘It could be that the man was in a hurry and this was the only rope to hand.’
‘Yet he had time to get some means to climb up to the beam, tie the rope, descend and hide that means … unless, of course, he was an acrobat,’ Fidelma replied.
Airmid was looking worried. ‘There is a ladder that I keep at the side of the house. Some thatching needs to be repaired.’
‘Then let us see if it is still there,’ suggested Fidelma.
Led by Airmid, they left the house and went to the side of the building. The ladder was propped against the wall, as she had said.
‘I suppose it is possible that it could have been used to gain an easy access to the beam,’ Brehon Faolchair admitted.
Eadulf had moved to the ladder and examined it. ‘More than a possibility,’ he said. ‘There are fresh bloodstains on the rungs.’
Fidelma went and looked at the spots he indicated.
Eadulf said: ‘My opinion is that our killer, having killed the girl with the blow to the back of the head, which caused some bleeding, knew this ladder was here. He took it inside, propped it against the beam and then took the cord, fastened it over the beam, then dragged the girl’s body up the rungs and tied the cord around her neck. The blood splattered on the rungs. The killer took the ladder back and returned to clean any marks of blood from the floor and arrange the chair in a clumsy attempt to make it look like suicide.’
‘Clumsy, indeed,’ nodded the Brehon. ‘Because he forgot to clean the blood from the rungs.’
‘I don’t think he was too clumsy. There are only a few spots of blood on the rungs. He doubtless thought that even if we did make a connection with the ladder, the stains would have disappeared by then.’
‘But surely the rest was clumsy?’ the Brehon protested.
‘Not so. I think he came fully prepared to mislead us with the religious rope belt.’
‘I don’t accept that,’ snapped Brehon Faolchair. ‘I find this bizarre. Someone comes to murder the girl. He then disguises the murder to look like suicide but does it in such a way that we immediately realise it is a murder because he places a piece of evidence that incriminates someone else. It is too complicated. Too fantastic.’
‘Whoever did it knew that there was a ladder at the side of the house,’ Eadulf stated. ‘You can’t see it even if you come into the herb garden around the apothecary. You have to come through the herb garden and then here to the house, which has its own fencing around it. So we are talking about someone with knowledge of the buildings.’
Fidelma turned to Airmid. ‘Did you observe anyone around your house or apothecary this morning?’
Airmid shook her head. ‘No one that I did not know.’
‘Forgive me, that was not exactly the question,’ Fidelma said sharply.
‘Perhaps it would be best if you recount your morning and who you saw,’ Brehon Faolchair said to keep the peace, as Airmid’s eyes flashed angrily for a moment.
‘Very well,’ the physician said. ‘Ciarnat had been handed into my safekeeping. She stayed with me in my house overnight. So when I awoke this morning, she was the first person I saw.’
‘Was she awake or asleep when you awoke?’ Fidelma asked with equal sarcasm, making the point that two could play at such a game.
Airmid let one shoulder lift slightly and then relaxed. ‘As a matter of fact, I had to wake her. We broke our fast with fruit and water from my well. We had some little discussion and then I went off to prepare some cures in my apothecary. It was then that Fidelma and her companions came. After that I got back to work and knew nothing more until I heard my dog, came back to the house and found her hanging, just as I told you.’
‘And you were in your apothecary all the morning?’
‘I was.’
‘You did not even notice Brehon Faolchair passing and speaking with Ciarnat?’
‘I did not.’
‘So, in fact, anyone could have slipped through the herb garden, entered your house and killed Ciarnat?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘Since that is blatantly what happened, then the answer is obvious.’ The woman’s rudeness caused Eadulf to blink.
‘Thank you, Airmid,’ Fidelma intervened quietly. ‘You have been very helpful.’ She then addressed Brehon Faolchair. ‘With your permission, since you have noticed it is worn by the two scribes from the Abbey of Imleach, I would like to question them. However, I suggest that you take the cord as evidence, for it is best placed in your care than mine.’
Brehon Faolchair agreed, then asked: ‘Do you really believe that the death of Ciarnat has something to do with one of the scribes from Imleach?’
‘We shall find out. However, I am more certain that it is connected with the murder of Abbot Segdae.’
‘Then, as you already are pursuing an investigation into the abbot’s murder, I will let you pursue the girl’s murder also. Lady Airmid, I shall arrange for the poor girl’s body to be removed to the Abbey of Nechta. Her mother is known there and Brother Eladach can carry out the obsequies.’
When Fidelma, with Eadulf and Enda, was crossing the courtyard again, Eadulf asked her: ‘Why does Brehon Faolchair have to grant you permission to investigate the girl’s death?’
‘You forget we are in the fortress of Prince Donennach and that Faolchair is his Brehon,’ replied Fidelma. ‘This is his jurisdiction.’