Suffer Little Children by Peter Tremayne Page A

begin to build up a picture. Go on. Having realised that Dacán had been killed, what then?’
    â€˜I made directly to see the abbot. I told him what I had discovered. He sent for our assistant physician, Brother Tóla, who examined the body and confirmed what I knew already. The abbot then placed matters in the hands of Brother Rumann. As steward of the abbey it was his job to conduct an inquiry.’
    â€˜One question here: you said that the abbot sent for the
assistant physician, Brother Tóla? Why did he not send for the chief physician? After all, the Venerable Dacán was a man of some standing.’
    â€˜That is true. But our chief physician, Brother Midach, was away from the abbey at that time.’
    â€˜You said that Dacán had been staying here two months,’ observed Fidelma. ‘How well had you come to know him?’
    Brother Conghus raised his eyebrows.
    â€˜How well?’ He grimaced wryly. ‘The Venerable Dacán was not a man you came to know at all. He was reserved; austere, if you like. He came with a great reputation for piety and scholarship. But he was a man of brusque manner and testy demeanour. He was a man of regular habits … as I have said before … and never spent time merely gossiping. Whenever he went abroad from his chamber he went for a specific purpose and did not pause to exchange pleasantries or waste an hour or two in conversation.’
    â€˜You paint a very clear picture, Brother Conghus,’ Fidelma said.
    Conghus took it as a compliment and preened himself for a moment.
    â€˜As doorkeeper, it is my task to assess people and notice their behaviour.’
    â€˜Physically, what manner of man was he?’
    â€˜Elderly, well over three-score years. A tall man, in spite of his age. Thin, as if he were in need of a good meal. He had long white hair. Dark eyes and sallow skin. Perhaps the only real distinctive feature was a bulbous nose. His features were generally melancholy.’
    â€˜I am told that he came here to study. Do you know much about that?’
    Brother Conghus pushed out his lower lip.
    â€˜On that matter you would have to consult the abbey’s librarian.’
    â€˜And what is the name of this librarian?’

    â€˜Sister Grella.’
    â€˜I am told that the Venerable Dacán also taught,’ Fidelma said, making a mental note. ‘Do you know what he taught?’
    Conghus shrugged.
    â€˜He taught some history, so I believe. But, it would probably be best if you saw Brother Ségán, our chief professor.’
    â€˜There is something else that puzzles me, though,’ Fidelma said, after a moment’s pause. ‘You say that Dacán was austere. That was the word you used, wasn’t it?’
    Conghus nodded agreement.
    â€˜It is an interesting word, very descriptive,’ she went on. ‘Yet why did he have the reputation of one beloved by the people? Usually a man who is ascetic, compassionless and stern, for this is what austere seems to imply, would hardly be a likable person.’
    â€˜We must all speak as we find, sister,’ declared Conghus. ‘Perhaps the reputation, which doubtless was spread from Laigin, was unjustified?’
    â€˜That being so, why were you so worried when Dacán missed a single meal? If he were not that likable, surely human nature might react and say, why bother to go searching for such a man? Why did you go searching for the Venerable Dacán?’
    Conghus looked uncomfortable.
    â€˜I am not sure that I follow your thoughts, sister,’ he said stiffly.
    â€˜They are simple enough,’ Fidelma pressed, her voice clear and slow. ‘You seem to have been overly concerned with the fact that a man, whom you deemed unlikable, had missed the breaking of his fast to the extent that you went looking for him. Can you explain that?’
    The doorkeeper compressed his lips, stared at her for a moment and then shrugged.
    â€˜A week