Suffer Little Children by Peter Tremayne

starts.’
    â€˜I understand,’ Fidelma said, when the doorkeeper paused and glanced at her in silent question to see if she was following.
    â€˜Well, this particular morning, two weeks ago on the day of Luan, Dacán was not at his place for the breaking of the fast. I made inquiries, for it was so unusual that he would miss a meal. You see …’
    â€˜You have already explained how rigid his habits were,’ Fidelma interrupted quickly.
    Conghus blinked and then nodded.
    â€˜Just so. Well, I ascertained that he had not been at the earlier sitting. So after I had eaten, curiosity took me to the hostel to look for him.’
    â€˜Where was his chamber?’
    â€˜On the first floor.’ Conghus began to rise from his seat. ‘I can show you the chamber now …’

    Fidelma waved him back to his seat.
    â€˜You may do so in a moment. Let us continue. So, you came to search for Dacán?’
    â€˜I did. There is little more to add. I went to his chamber and called to him. There was no answer. So I opened the door …’
    â€˜No answer?’ Fidelma interrupted. ‘Surely if there was no answer, one might assume that the Venerable Dacán was not in his room? What made you decide to open the door?’
    Conghus grimaced, frowning.
    â€˜Why … why, I saw a light flickering under the door. It is dark in the passage so any light shines out. The light attracted me. I reasoned that if Dacán had left a light burning, then I should extinguish it. Frugality is another Rule of the Blessed Fachtna,’ he added sanctimoniously.
    â€˜I see. So you saw a light and then … ?’
    â€˜I went in.’
    â€˜What was the cause of the light?’
    â€˜There was an oil lamp lit, it was still burning.’
    â€˜Go on,’ Fidelma urged, when Conghus continued to hesitate.
    â€˜Dacán was laying dead on his bed. That is all.’
    Fidelma suppressed a sigh of irritation.
    â€˜Let us try to establish a few more details, Brother Conghus,’ she said patiently. ‘Imagine yourself back at the threshold of the door. Describe what you saw.’
    Conghus frowned again and appeared to give some deep thought to the question.
    â€˜The chamber was lit by the oil lamp, which was on a small table at the side of the cot. Dacán was fully dressed. He was lying on his back. The first thing I noticed about him was that his feet and his hands were bound …’
    â€˜With rope?’
    Conghus shook his head.
    â€˜With strips of cloth; linen cloth with parti-colours of blue
and red. He also had a strip of the same cloth in his mouth. I presumed this was in the nature of a gag. Then I saw that there were bloodstains all over his chest. I realised that he had been killed.’
    â€˜Very well. Now tell me, was there any sign of a knife – the knife that inflicted the wounds?’
    â€˜None that I could see.’
    â€˜Was one found subsequently?’
    â€˜Not that I know of.’
    â€˜How were Dacán’s features?’
    â€˜I do not understand,’ frowned Conghus.
    â€˜Was the face calm and reposed? Were the eyes open or shut. How did he look?’
    â€˜Calm, I would say. There was no fear or pain engraved on the dead features, if that is what you mean.’
    â€˜That is precisely what I mean,’ Fidelma replied grimly. ‘Good. We now progress. You realised that Dacán had been killed. Did you notice anything else about the room? Had it been ransacked? Was it in order? If Dacán was so rigid in his habits it would imply that he would be scrupulously tidy.’
    â€˜The room was tidy so far as I can remember. You are right, of course, Dacán’s fastidiousness was well known. But Sister Necht will tell you more about that.’
    Fidelma heard a rustle and turned to frown a warning at the young novice in case she felt the need to respond.
    â€˜So.’ Fidelma returned her gaze to Conghus. ‘We