She called them out into her line of vision again. “How long were you in that area, Brothers?”
The two young religieux exchanged glances. Brother Cett spoke for them both, for the red-eyed Brother Enda was clearly still upset.
“This is where we prepare the fruit. We were washing and cutting pieces for the dessert course. That is our only task and so we were here most of the time. There was no reason for us to be anywhere else.”
“When did you last see Brother Roilt?”
“When we arrived in the kitchen to start to prepare our dishes. As he was head cook we had to report to him.”
“Stay there then.” She walked back to her original position. “Now the rest of you. .”
Brother Gebhus still remained out of sight at Brother Dian’s original position. Brother Torolb stood on the far side of the kitchen in front of another big range supporting meat spits, while Brother Manchán took a position at the center table next to some clay ovens where he had obviously been preparing bread.
Fidelma regarded their positions carefully. If Torolb and Manchán had been glancing in Roilt’s direction, then they would have seen him, although with various obstructions depending on what they were doing. For example, if Brother Torolb had been bending to his cooking range he would have been facing the opposite wall, and even when he turned there would have been a central table with a low central beam from which a number of metal pots and pans hung which would have obstructed his view. He could only have seen the midsection of Brother Roilt.
She checked each of their views carefully before sighing in exasperation.
If everyone had been totally engrossed with their work, it might just have been possible for someone to enter from the herb garden, stab Roilt, drag his frail body to the storeroom and then steal the fish. Yet she was sure that the murderer had not come in from the garden. It made no sense. Why kill Roilt for a fish? The plate was by the window. If they were so desperate, they could have waited until Roilt’s attention was distracted, leaned forward across the windowsill and grabbed the fish. Why take such an extraordinary risk of discovery and resort to murder? And there was the matter of the gate.
Perhaps she was looking at this from the wrong viewpoint?
“I shall speak to each of you individually, starting with Brother Dian,” she announced. “The rest of you will continue about your duties until you are called.”
With the exception of Brother Dian, the others, reluctantly it seemed, resumed their tasks in other parts of the kitchen.
“How long have you been second cook here?” Fidelma began.
Brother Dian reflected. “Five years.”
“How long had Roilt been cook here?”
“Is this relevant? We should be searching for the itinerants,” he began, and then caught the glint in her eye. “Roilt had been here for a year longer than I. That was why he was head cook.”
“Did you and the others get on with him?”
“Roilt? No one liked him. He was a weasel of a man.” He stopped, flushed and genuflected.“De mortuis nil nisi bonum,” he muttered. Of the dead say nothing but good.
“Vincit omnia veritas,” replied Fidelma sharply. Truth conquers all things. “I prefer to hear the truth than false praise.”
Brother Dian glanced around. “Very well. It is known that Roilt liked the company of the young novitiates, if you know what I mean. Male novitiates,” he added with emphasis.
“There was hatred toward him because of this?”
Dian nodded. “Many brothers disliked his abuse of the young.”
“Abuse? Do you mean that he forced his attentions on them against their will?”
Dian gave an expressive shrug by way of reply.
“Did Roilt have affairs with any of the kitchen staff?” she demanded.
Dian blinked at the directness of the question. “I must protest, Sister. . you are here to find out who stole the fish. .”
“I am here to find out who murdered Brother Roilt,” snapped Fidelma, causing Brother Dian to start.
“It is clear that he was killed for the fish,” Dian said doggedly after a moment to recover.
“Is it?” Fidelma glanced to the far end of the kitchen. “Ask Brother Enda to come to me.”
Brother Dian looked surprised at being summarily dismissed. A moment later the youthful, red-eyed Brother Enda arrived at her side.
“Are you feeling better now?” Fidelma asked him.
The young man nodded slowly. “It was a shock, you see. .” he began hesitantly.
“Of course. You were close to Brother Roilt, weren’t you?”
Brother Enda flushed and pressed his lips firmly together, saying nothing.
“Were you currently in a relationship with him?” demanded Fidelma.
“I was not.”
“He preferred someone younger?”
“He was the only person who was kind to me in this abbey. I shall not speak ill of him.”
“I do not ask you to say anything that is not the truth and will not help us find out who killed him.”
The young man seemed bewildered for a moment. “I thought he was killed for. .”
“For the fish?” Fidelma’s expression did not change. “Did he have a current lover?”
“I think there was a young novitiate that he had just taken a liking to.”
“When did he end his relationship with you?”
“Six months ago.”
“Were you angry about that?”
“Sad. I was not-” The young man’s eyes abruptly widened. “You think that I. . that I killed him?” His voice rose on a high note causing some of the other kitchen workers to turn in their direction.
“Did you?” Fidelma was unperturbed.
“I did not!”
“How about Brother Cett? He is your age. Did he have a relationship with Roilt or with yourself?”
Enda laughed harshly. “Brother Cett is not like that. He loves women too much.”
“There is no feeling, beyond fraternity, between you and Cett?”
“We are friends, that is all.”
“I am told that Roilt was disliked. Perhaps he was disliked for his sexuality? Often people kill out of fear of things they cannot comprehend.”
“I can only tell you what I know,” insisted the young man stubbornly.
“That is all that is asked of the innocent.” Fidelma smiled thinly. “Send Brother Torolb to me.”
Torolb was a man about twenty years of age. He was handsome and still in the vigor of youth, though not so young as Enda or Cett. He was dark-eyed and had determined features, an expression as though he would not suffer fools gladly. He wore a short leather apron around his habit.
“Your task is to cook the meat dishes?” she asked. Torolb nodded warily.
“How long have you worked in the kitchens here?”
“Since I came to the abbey at the ‘Age of Choice.’ ”
“Three or four years ago?”
“Four years ago.”
“So you learned your art in this kitchen?”
Torolb smiled thinly. “Part of it. I was raised on a farm and taught to butcher and cook meat when I was young. That was why I specially asked to work in the kitchens.”
Fidelma glanced down at his clothing. “You have blood on your apron,” she observed.
Torolb uttered a short laugh. “You cannot butcher and cut meat without blood.”
“Naturally,” sighed Fidelma. “How well did you know Brother Roilt?”
An expression of displeasure crossed Torolb’s features. “I knew Roilt,” he replied shortly.
“You did not like him?”
“Why should I?”
“He was head cook and you were under his direction. People have feelings about those they work with and an elderly man usually influences the young.”
“Roilt could only influence gullible youths like Enda. Others despised him.”
“Others, like yourself?”
“I do not deny it. I obey the law.”
“The law?” Fidelma frowned.
“The law of God, the Father of Christ Jesus,” replied the young man fiercely. “You will find the law in Leviticus where it says ‘If a man has intercourse with a man as with a woman, they both commit an abomination. They shall be put to death; their blood shall be on their own heads.’ That is what is written.”