“A subtle way of deflecting you from the truth. He has motive and. .”
“And opportunity? How so? He was with Crónán on the far side of the table.”
Laisran shook his head.
“This is worse than the mystery you had to solve in my abbey, when Wulfstan was founded stabbed to death in his cell which had been locked from the inside. Do you remember?”
“I remember it well,” agreed Fidelma.
“No one could have entered nor left-so who had killed Wulfstan? Here we have a similar problem.”
“Similar?”
“There is Ruisín. He is in full view of a large number of people and he is poisoned. No one can have administered the poison without being seen.”
Fidelma smiled softly.
“Yet someone did.”
Muirgel came in; her face was still mask-like, displaying no emotion. Fidelma pointed to a chair and invited her to sit down.
“We will not keep you long.”
The woman raised a bland face to them as she sat.
“The gossip is that my husband did not die from excess of drink but was poisoned.”
“It is a conclusion that we have reached.”
“But why? There was no reason to kill him.”
“There obviously was and we require your help in discovering that reason. What enemies did he have?”
“None except. .” she suddenly looked nervous and paused.
“Lennán?”
“You know about him?”
“I know only that he hated your husband.”
Muirgel sat silently.
“Was your husband having an affair with Uainiunn?” demanded Fidelma brutally.
At once Muirgel shook her head vehemently.
“What makes you so positive?” pressed Fidelma.
“Uainiunn is my friend. I have known her longer than Ruisín. But I also know Ruisín. You cannot live in close proximity with a man day in and day out without knowing whether he is seeing another woman, especially if the woman is your best friend.”
Fidelma grimaced. She had known women who had been fooled, as well as men come to that. But she did not comment further. Then another thought occurred to her.
“Rumann was your husband’s friend?”
“He was.”
“And your friend also?”
The woman frowned.
“Of course.”
“Rumann is not married?”
“He is not.”
Fidelma was watching the woman’s expression intently when she posed the questions with their subtle implication. But there was no guile there. Nothing was hidden.
“I suppose that you and Ruisín, Rumann and Uainiunn were often together?”
Again, Muirgel looked puzzled.
“Uainiunn was my friend. Rumann was Ruisín’s friend. It was inevitable that we would be together from time to time.”
“What of Uainiunn’s brother-Lennán? Was he in your company?”
Muirgel looked annoyed.
“I thought we had cleared up that matter. He was never in our company.”
Fidelma nodded with a sigh.
“You see, I would like to understand why Lennán has developed this idea about his sister and your husband.”
“If you can peer through a person’s skull, through into the secrets of their mind, then you will find the answer. All I know is that Lennán was not so extreme until after he returned from the cattle raid against the Uí Néill.”
“You will have to explain that.”
“Over a year ago Lennán decided to join a raiding party to retrieve some cattle stolen by the one of Uí Néill clans. When he came back he was a changed man. You saw the scar across his forehead?”
“He was wounded?”
“The rest of the raiding party did not return,” went on Muirgel. “Only he returned out of the score of men who went off.”
“Did he explain what had happened to them?”
“An ambush. A fight. He was, indeed, wounded, and left for dead. A hill shepherd cared for him until he was well enough and then he returned. That was when he became suspicious of everyone and when he began to make those silly accusations against Ruisín.”
Fidelma leaned forward a little with interest.
“So this started only after his return. And you say there was no reason that you knew of?”
“Perhaps he had become deranged.”
“Did you speak about this to Uainiunn?”
Muirgel grimaced.
“Of course. Lennán was her brother.”
“And what comment did she make?”
“That we should ignore him. She said that most people knew that he had become a changed man since his return from the cattle raid. No one would take him seriously.” Muirgel suddenly paused and her eyes widened as she gazed at Fidelma. “Lennán? Do you suspect Lennán of killing Ruisín? How? He was standing on the far side of the table when the contest started. How could he have killed my husband?”
“You’ve no idea who killed your husband?” Fidelma asked, ignoring her question.
“None.”
“That is all then.”
Muirgel rose and went to the flap of the tent.
“Oh, just one question more,” called Fidelma softly.
The woman turned expectantly.
“You were not having an affair with Rumann, were you?”
Muirgel’s eyes widened for a moment in shock and then a cynical smile slowly crossed her face. She made a sound, a sort of suppressed chuckle and shook her head.
“I am not. Rumann is too interested in Uainiunn to bother with me, and I would have discouraged him. I loved Ruisín.”
Fidelma nodded and gestured her to leave.
Abbot Laisran was staring at Fidelma in surprise.
“That was surely an insensitive question to ask of a newly widowed woman?” He spoke in a tone of stern rebuke.
“Sometimes, Laisran, in order to get to firm ground one has to tread through bogland, through mire,” she replied.
“Do you really suspect that Muirgel poisoned her husband because she was having an affair with his friend, Rumann?”
“Every question I ask is for a purpose. You should know my methods by now, Laisran.”
“I am still at a loss. I thought it was clear that Lennán must be the culprit. But your question to Muirgel. .?”
Fidelma had turned to Lígach, who had entered the tent again. The chieftain bent down and whispered in her ear. She nodded firmly.
“Bring Rumann back,” she ordered.
Rumann came in with his dog again, but this time immediately tied it to the tent post so that it would not leap up.
“Well, Sister? Have you found out who killed my friend?” Fidelma regarded him with grave chill eyes.
“I think I have a good idea, Rumann. You did.”
The man froze. He tried to form a sentence but the words would not come out. He managed a nervous laugh.
“You are joking, of course?”
“I never joke about these matters, Rumann.”
“How could I have done such a thing?”
“Is that a practical question or a philosophical question?”
Rumann stood defiantly before her, having regained his composure. He folded his arms across his chest.
“You must be mad.”
“I think that you will find that you have been the victim of madness, but that does not emanate from me. How did you do it? The drinking contest had been arranged. Early in the fair you saw the stall which sold poisons. Abbot Laisran had told me how he had to chase the stallholder away because the noxious brews that he was selling to control pests could also be used to kill other animals. They would also kill human beings. You acquired some of that brew before Abbot Laisran forced the stall so close.”
For the first time Rumann looked nervous.
“You are guessing,” he said uncertainly.
“And am I supposed to have slipped this poison into his drink in full view of everyone gathered to watch the contest?”
“Supposed to and did so,” agreed Fidelma. “It was very simple. You were standing by his side. Your terrier is always with you. It seems to like ale. As Cobha had poured the first jug, and each jug was marked for the individual contestant, you let slip the leash of your dog, who ran to Cobha just after he set down Ruisín’s jug and while he was filling the jug for Crónán. The immediate concern was to save Crónán’s jug that he was filling. No one noticed that you slipped the phial of poison into Ruisín’s jug while people fussed over whether Cobha had filled a proper measurement in the other jug.”