Peter Tremayne - Whispers of the Dead

“That is our man, Fidelma. A whole screpall on it. That’s worth a good barrel of Gaulish wine.”

“I think you are a little free with your money, Laisran,” she smiled. “Before taking the wager, let us have a word with his sister, Uainiunn.”

Uainiunn looked nothing like her brother. She was fleshy; almost voluptuous, with an animal magnetism and a provocative way of looking at one, from under half-closed eyelids. She was dark of hair and eyes and had full red lips.

“I understand that you attended this drinking contest.”

“With my brother. He insisted.”

“He insisted?”

“He wanted to see Ruisín beaten by Crónán.”

“And you?”

The girl shrugged.

“It was a matter of indifference to me.”

Fidelma examined her closely.

“Why would that be so?” she asked.

Uainiunn sniffed.

“What entertainment is there is watching men drink themselves senseless?”

“True enough, but didn’t you want to see Ruisín win the contest?”

“Not particularly. I am sad for Muirgel, though. The loss of Ruisín is going to be a heavy blow for her. However, I do not doubt that she will find another man to take care of her. Rumann for example. It might stop Rumann chasing me. He does not interest me.”

“Ruisín’s death does not affect you in any way?” demanded Abbot Laisran, slightly outraged at the seeming callousness of the girl.

Uainiunn frowned.

“Only inasmuch as it affects my friend, Muirgel.”

“It sounds as though you did not care much for Ruisín,” Fidelma reflected.

“He was my friend’s husband, that is all.”

“I understand that is not what your brother thought.”

The girl’s eyes blazed for a moment. It was like a door opening suddenly and for a moment Fidelma glimpsed something equivalent to the hot fires of hell beyond. Then they snapped shut.

“I am not responsible for what Lennán thinks,” she snapped.

“So you would deny his claim that you were having an affair with Ruisín?”

The girl threw back her head and laughed. Yet it was not a pleasant sound. There was no need to press her further on her opinion.

“Very well,” Fidelma said quietly. “You may leave us.”

Abbot Laisran turned eagerly after she left.

“You think that she did it? She is callous enough.”

Fidelma raised an eyebrow.

“Are you about to place another wager, another screpall on it?” she asked.

Laisran flushed.

“Perhaps either one of them did it,” he countered.

Fidelma did not reply directly. She turned to Lígach.

“Let Muirgel come in.”

Laisran looked slightly crushed and sat back. He whispered stubbornly.

“No, she didn’t do it. A screpall on Lennán. He’s your man, I am now certain. After all, he confessed that he wanted to murder Ruisín.”

“But says that he did not. If he were guilty of the fact, he would surely have attempted to hide his intention?” replied Fidelma.

“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.