Read A Secret and Unlawful Killing Online
Authors: Cora Harrison
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery & Detective
A Secret and Unlawful Killing (27 page)
‘The thing is, Turlough, that it was serious. Looking back on it, I realize that Slaney was completely enamoured of him, and perhaps he with her. I don’t know. All I know is that they were meeting, perhaps on a daily basis. I should have guessed when I met her, one day, outside Carron Castle, that she was returning from Oughtmama, and Cumhal had met Murrough less than an hour previously coming from the
same direction. I thought nothing of it at the time, but afterwards it came back to me. When I began to puzzle it all out, I realized that they were continually meeting – not at Carron, of course, except for public occasions, but at Oughtmama, somewhere among those ruined stone buildings. And then everything began to become clear to me. You see, I lost my way for a while in the solving of these crimes, by spending too long trying to find a connection between the two murders.’
same direction. I thought nothing of it at the time, but afterwards it came back to me. When I began to puzzle it all out, I realized that they were continually meeting – not at Carron, of course, except for public occasions, but at Oughtmama, somewhere among those ruined stone buildings. And then everything began to become clear to me. You see, I lost my way for a while in the solving of these crimes, by spending too long trying to find a connection between the two murders.’
She thought back to that moment at Lemeanah when Shane and Hugh were pretending to search for baby swallows. She smiled slightly at the memory of Donal’s uncomprehending face when she had voiced her thoughts, saying:
It’s a mistake to spend too long searching for something that doesn’t exist.
She looked back at Turlough. His face bore the look of a man who had suddenly received a bad shock. She let go of his hand, waiting patiently for him to speak, looking at him with pity in her glance.
It’s a mistake to spend too long searching for something that doesn’t exist.
She looked back at Turlough. His face bore the look of a man who had suddenly received a bad shock. She let go of his hand, waiting patiently for him to speak, looking at him with pity in her glance.
There was a sound of loud laughter from out in the courtyard where some carefree young men were burnishing their swords. It made the silence in the room seem by contrast to be especially heavy. If only I did not have to do this to him, thought Mara. Perhaps I could have allowed this murder to go unsolved. After all, Donal had no idea of who had killed Aengus; Niall did, but he would have been prepared to keep silence if the mill had been given to him. That could have been the solution. Go to Poulnabrone; say that I found Niall to be the true son of Aengus the miller, and that Guaire, the linen merchant from Corcomroe, had killed Ragnall and that perhaps Ragnall had killed Aengus. Would that have satisfied everyone? Probably, it would have. And
then I would not have to inflict this pain on a man that I esteem so much, for whom I have so much affection. No one would have cared.
then I would not have to inflict this pain on a man that I esteem so much, for whom I have so much affection. No one would have cared.
But I, she thought, I would have cared. I could not keep silence. She leaned forward and once again took one of his immense hands between hers.
‘Turlough,’ she said steadily, ‘Murrough, your son, killed Aengus the miller. He killed him because Aengus saw the two of them, Slaney and Murrough. They used the abbot’s house at Oughtmama for their meetings. I saw the room, with the sheepskins piled high in the corner and the brazier filled with charcoal. I saw the quality of the wine cups there, hidden beneath the sheepskins. They were made from silver. No miller ever had wine cups made from silver. Aengus went there on Michaelmas Eve and found the lovers. Whether he meant to be seen this time, whether he even thought of some blackmail, that I don’t know; but I do know that he had seen them before. You see, Aengus had previously told Niall of his suspicions. He was an inquisitive old man who meddled with what did not concern him, but he did not deserve to die, Turlough.’
‘You say all this to me,’ said Turlough, through dry lips, ‘but you haven’t given me any proof. Where is your evidence?’
Strange how father and son used almost the same words, thought Mara, thinking back to the young man who had sat before her yesterday evening.
‘Let me just finish, first,’ she said. ‘Slaney would not have wanted Garrett to find out, but, more important, Murrough could not afford to have news of this affair with Slaney get back to his wife. You yourself told me that. Murrough is
ambitious and he needed to keep the Earl of Kildare sweet, and the Great Earl, as they call him, would not be a man to forgive an insult to his daughter. Murrough had to silence the miller. Probably Aengus fled back to the mill, Murrough pursued him, killed him, probably put his own knife down in order to clean it, and then, perhaps, saw young Donal stretched unconscious on the floor. He is quick-witted, your son, because he immediately saw how he could turn this to his advantage. He put down his own knife – either then or later on, it fell through the floorboards into the millstream. That is not important now, but what is important is that he took Donal’s knife from his pouch, smeared blood on it and on the torn grey mantle. And then he and Slaney departed immediately. What part she played in it, I don’t know, but she undoubtedly knew.’
ambitious and he needed to keep the Earl of Kildare sweet, and the Great Earl, as they call him, would not be a man to forgive an insult to his daughter. Murrough had to silence the miller. Probably Aengus fled back to the mill, Murrough pursued him, killed him, probably put his own knife down in order to clean it, and then, perhaps, saw young Donal stretched unconscious on the floor. He is quick-witted, your son, because he immediately saw how he could turn this to his advantage. He put down his own knife – either then or later on, it fell through the floorboards into the millstream. That is not important now, but what is important is that he took Donal’s knife from his pouch, smeared blood on it and on the torn grey mantle. And then he and Slaney departed immediately. What part she played in it, I don’t know, but she undoubtedly knew.’
‘And then?’ asked Turlough. His voice was so low that she had to half guess at the words. He looked like a man suddenly stricken by a fatal fever.
‘And then, Donal came to his senses in the morning, saw the body, decided to try to make it look like a suicide, dragged it out and put it under the sluice gate. Probably Murrough’s knife was dislodged then and fell through the floorboards into the millstream. I don’t think that Murrough would have deliberately dropped it in there. Why throw it away when the knife could be easily cleaned and replaced in his pouch?’
Mara paused and looked at Turlough. His face was now hidden in his hands. She had no way of guessing what his thoughts were, but she continued resolutely.
‘Donal told me that he had seen his own knife on the shelf, but had left it there, meaning to wash it afterwards.
However, when he heard the cart coming up the lane he panicked and took himself off. Niall saw nothing, but when Ragnall returned with the damaged sack, he picked up, not the knife – he didn’t notice that lying on the shelf – but Donal’s brooch, still attached to the piece of cloth. Unfortunately for Ragnall, he decided to return it to Donal – he knew nothing about the death of Aengus at the time, but Donal thought he did. So Murrough killed Aengus, for fear of betrayal, and Donal knocked Ragnall unconscious from sheer terror and, though he did not murder Ragnall, indirectly he caused his death, because he left him lying in the churchyard at Noughaval with his pouch full of silver.’
However, when he heard the cart coming up the lane he panicked and took himself off. Niall saw nothing, but when Ragnall returned with the damaged sack, he picked up, not the knife – he didn’t notice that lying on the shelf – but Donal’s brooch, still attached to the piece of cloth. Unfortunately for Ragnall, he decided to return it to Donal – he knew nothing about the death of Aengus at the time, but Donal thought he did. So Murrough killed Aengus, for fear of betrayal, and Donal knocked Ragnall unconscious from sheer terror and, though he did not murder Ragnall, indirectly he caused his death, because he left him lying in the churchyard at Noughaval with his pouch full of silver.’
Mara waited for a moment but Turlough said nothing, so she added: ‘And that is the solution to the two Michaelmas murders. I am as sure of it as if I were there at the time.’
‘And what happens next?’ asked Turlough. His voice was very low and his eyes were fixed on the floor.
Mara drained her wine and rose to her feet. The king did not follow her, but stayed sitting down. She took her mantle from the back of the door and slung it over her shoulders. From outside she heard the sound of a church bell tolling for the midday celebration of the angelus. If she left now, she would have plenty of time to get back to the Burren to meet the people of the kingdom at four o’clock.
‘What happens next?’ repeated Turlough.
‘At the hour of vespers today, Saturday, 11 October,’ she said quietly, ‘I tell the truth about these two murders to the people of the Burren.’ She waited for a moment, but now he had turned towards the window and his face was closed and without expression.
‘And you?’ she said. She wanted to reach out to him, to
tell him how sorry she was, but his stony face stopped her. She almost wanted to promise to keep the wrongdoing of Murrough to herself, but she knew that she could not do this. From the time that she was five years old she had been trained to respect the law and to know that it could never be bent or evaded.
No Brehon is able to abrogate anything that is written in the Seanchas Mór
, she repeated to herself, but found little comfort in the words.
tell him how sorry she was, but his stony face stopped her. She almost wanted to promise to keep the wrongdoing of Murrough to herself, but she knew that she could not do this. From the time that she was five years old she had been trained to respect the law and to know that it could never be bent or evaded.
No Brehon is able to abrogate anything that is written in the Seanchas Mór
, she repeated to herself, but found little comfort in the words.
He said no more. He did not lift his head, nor did he look at her. And so she left him and returned to the Burren.
MÍASHLECHTA (SECTIONS ON RANK)
T
he king’s justice is the most important thing in each kingdom.
I
f the king is just, his reign will be peaceful and prosperous, whereas if he is guilty of injustice, the soil and the elements will rebel against him. There will be infertility of women and cattle, crop-failures, dearth of fish, defeat in battle, plagues and lightning storms throughout the land.
he king’s justice is the most important thing in each kingdom.
I
f the king is just, his reign will be peaceful and prosperous, whereas if he is guilty of injustice, the soil and the elements will rebel against him. There will be infertility of women and cattle, crop-failures, dearth of fish, defeat in battle, plagues and lightning storms throughout the land.
M
ARA THOUGHT THAT POULNABRONE had never looked so beautiful as it did on that afternoon of 11 October. There had been a shower of rain and the pavements shone as if they had been polished. The low sun of an autumn afternoon etched sharp black shadows of sculpted rock over the smooth surface of the clints; and the waterworn grykes, between the slabs of grey stone, were filled
with the glowing plum colour of the burnet rose leaves and the silver latticework of the carline thistles.
ARA THOUGHT THAT POULNABRONE had never looked so beautiful as it did on that afternoon of 11 October. There had been a shower of rain and the pavements shone as if they had been polished. The low sun of an autumn afternoon etched sharp black shadows of sculpted rock over the smooth surface of the clints; and the waterworn grykes, between the slabs of grey stone, were filled
with the glowing plum colour of the burnet rose leaves and the silver latticework of the carline thistles.
She took her place silently beside the great dolmen and ran her hand for a moment over the rough edges of the giant capstone. How long had it been here, she wondered, and how much longer would it last? It had seen so much in its lifetime. Would anyone ever be able to unlock its secrets?
The six scholars arrived and bowed to her. She bowed back gravely, but did not speak. Normally she moved amongst the crowd before the court began, but today she did not. She just stood there impassively, holding the scroll of vellum in her hand. There were three large leaves rolled up inside it. She would deal with the cases one by one and she would do justice to all.
Turlough came just as the bell sounded for vespers. He was alone except for his two bodyguards. She looked keenly around after him, but Murrough was not there. She had half hoped, half feared that he would come. Would Turlough have felt humiliated if Murrough had made full confession, she wondered, or would he have been proud of his son? The king made his way through the crowd, who drew back to allow him past. He ignored the four
taoiseachs
, the O‘Lochlainn, the O’Connor, the O’Brien and the MacNamara. They all had advanced towards him to meet and greet him as usual, but then they withdrew, seeing that he had no mind for conversation. Turlough bowed to Mara stiffly and she returned the courtesy. His face was set in strong, heavy lines. Suddenly he looked old.
taoiseachs
, the O‘Lochlainn, the O’Connor, the O’Brien and the MacNamara. They all had advanced towards him to meet and greet him as usual, but then they withdrew, seeing that he had no mind for conversation. Turlough bowed to Mara stiffly and she returned the courtesy. His face was set in strong, heavy lines. Suddenly he looked old.
Mara moved forward, greeted the crowd, paused for a second while the traditional blessing came back from them,
and then unfurled the scroll. She selected one leaf and handed the other two back to Fachtnan.
and then unfurled the scroll. She selected one leaf and handed the other two back to Fachtnan.
‘The first case today deals with the inheritance of Niall MacNamara. The case is that …’
As she read from the scroll, she glanced occasionally at Garrett MacNamara’s face. He looked ill at ease and from time to time he licked his lips nervously. Slaney was nowhere to be seen.
‘Niall can not be here today as he has had an accident,’ finished Mara, rolling up the scroll again. She slightly emphasized the word ‘accident’. No doubt there would be all sorts of rumours circulating about Niall’s non-appearance. ‘However,’ she went on, ‘on his behalf, I will call the witnesses. Who here can give evidence that Aengus MacNamara, the miller of Oughtmama, recognized Niall as his son?’
Instantly Ardal O’Lochlainn moved forward.
‘Aengus MacNamara bought land from me a few years ago. He bought it to give to Niall on his eighteenth birthday. It was land sufficient to give Niall the status of an
ocaire
, such as a father would give to his son on attaining manhood. I certainly understood that Aengus was buying it for a son.’ Ardal’s voice was clear and full of authority. Mara glanced from him to Turlough, but the king’s face bore no trace of interest. She looked back at the crowd.
ocaire
, such as a father would give to his son on attaining manhood. I certainly understood that Aengus was buying it for a son.’ Ardal’s voice was clear and full of authority. Mara glanced from him to Turlough, but the king’s face bore no trace of interest. She looked back at the crowd.
‘The O’Lochlainn has given his evidence. Is there anyone else wishes to say anything to support or to deny the assumption that Aengus acknowledged Niall as his son, born of the union between the miller and his servant, Cliodhna, now dead?’
There was no movement from any of the MacNamara clan and Garrett, their
taoiseach
, just gazed ahead as if he had
little interest in the affair. Had he found out about Slaney? wondered Mara. If so, he would be quite within his legal rights to divorce her. Would he dare? Mara was so interested in this thought that for a moment she hardly heard a voice saying: ‘I have some evidence to give.’ And then her eyes were caught by the stocky figure of a young man pushing his way to the front.
taoiseach
, just gazed ahead as if he had
little interest in the affair. Had he found out about Slaney? wondered Mara. If so, he would be quite within his legal rights to divorce her. Would he dare? Mara was so interested in this thought that for a moment she hardly heard a voice saying: ‘I have some evidence to give.’ And then her eyes were caught by the stocky figure of a young man pushing his way to the front.
‘Yes, Brian?’ she said encouragingly. Brian O’Lochlainn was one of the shepherds that worked for Ardal. He was a young man, only about nineteen, she thought. He was blushing furiously now with the eyes of the crowd upon him and she hastened to put him at ease by moving slightly so now he faced her and had his back to the crowd.
‘You tend the sheep for the O’Lochlainn?’ she asked. ‘Do you work on the mountains above Oughtmama?’
He seized on her words gratefully. ‘That’s right, Brehon. We run the sheep on the mountain and just bring them down to the valley at shearing time. About a year ago, in early June, I was bringing down the sheep and I wanted someone to lift the sluice gate by the stream at Oughtmama, just where it enters the mill race. We always do this when we bring down the sheep. It saves breaking down the walls and having to build them up again, you see, Brehon,’ he said earnestly.
Mara nodded. ‘I can see that,’ she said. ‘And of course, at that time of year the water would be flowing slowly, so the sheep would easily be able to walk down the stream bed. So what happened then?’
‘Well, I went in to ask Aengus and he was busy weighing sacks of flour so he said to me, “Ask my son, he’s here today. He’ll help you.” And then he shouted down for Niall and Niall came up from the yard and held the gate for me.’
‘And these were his very words?’ asked Mara carefully. ‘He said:
“Ask my son, he’ll help you.”
And he shouted for Niall, not Balor? There was no chance that he might have meant Balor?’
“Ask my son, he’ll help you.”
And he shouted for Niall, not Balor? There was no chance that he might have meant Balor?’
‘These were his very words, Brehon,’ said Brian emphatically. ‘Balor was nowhere to be seen. He had gone to work for Fintan, the blacksmith, by this time.’
‘I see,’ said Mara. Once again she cast a glance over towards Garrett, but he did not look at her, or even seem to be interested in the evidence.
‘Thank you very much, Brian,’ she said. ‘That is very valuable evidence.’ She turned away from him quickly. She would prefer it if he did not blurt out any unwise disclosure such as that he had been asked by his
taoiseach
to do this. Ardal, of course, was the soul of honour, he would never ask a man to lie, but it had been quick-witted of him to think of Brian. There was no doubt that the shepherd would have had plenty of contact with the mill. It was typical of Ardal’s efficiency that he would have gone up the mountain one day during the week and interviewed Brian, arranged for a substitute shepherd and made sure that Brian was present at Poulnabrone at the correct time. In her mind, Mara saluted his enterprise but she did not want any link between himself and Brian to be uncovered, so she spoke rapidly now.
taoiseach
to do this. Ardal, of course, was the soul of honour, he would never ask a man to lie, but it had been quick-witted of him to think of Brian. There was no doubt that the shepherd would have had plenty of contact with the mill. It was typical of Ardal’s efficiency that he would have gone up the mountain one day during the week and interviewed Brian, arranged for a substitute shepherd and made sure that Brian was present at Poulnabrone at the correct time. In her mind, Mara saluted his enterprise but she did not want any link between himself and Brian to be uncovered, so she spoke rapidly now.
‘Has anyone got any more evidence to put forward on this case?’
Once again she looked at Garrett, and once again he avoided her eyes. It was obvious that he had decided not to contest this case. She looked towards Turlough; as king, he should now at least be giving a nominal sign of having come to a conclusion, but he still seemed wrapped in his own
gloomy thoughts so she concluded the matter, saying briefly, ‘Well, in that case, I find that Niall MacNamara was recognized as the son of Aengus the miller and that he inherits his father’s goods and he has the permission of this court to uncover his father’s hearth.’
gloomy thoughts so she concluded the matter, saying briefly, ‘Well, in that case, I find that Niall MacNamara was recognized as the son of Aengus the miller and that he inherits his father’s goods and he has the permission of this court to uncover his father’s hearth.’
Mara turned towards Fachtnan, holding out her hand, and he gave her the second leaf of vellum. She unscrolled it, read it through briefly and then rolled it up again.
‘This matter deals with the murder of Ragnall, steward to the MacNamara, in the churchyard at Noughaval on Michaelmas Day, at, or around the time of, sundown. Ragnall was killed by a blow to the forehead, from a small stone cross. Has anyone any knowledge of this affair?’
‘I have, Brehon,’ said Donal O’Brien, coming forward steadily and taking his place beside her. His colour was high, but his eyes were steady with courage. His father, Teige, stood up and deliberately moved closer to his son and then sat down on a low boulder nearby. He said nothing, but the show of unity was unmistakeable.
‘I hit Ragnall on the side of the head with my fist,’ said Donal. ‘I knocked him unconscious and I went away and left him there. I admit the crime of assaulting an old man and then abandoning him.’
‘Was Ragnall still alive when you left him?’ asked Mara.
Donal met her eyes. ‘He was, Brehon,’ he said. ‘He was unconscious, but he was definitely alive. He groaned just before I left. I thought he was coming to and I left quickly so that I would not lose my temper again.’
‘So you are telling me that you were not the man who struck the blow with the stone cross?’ asked Mara. She tried to make her tones sound both probing and sceptical, but
already her mind had left this case and had gone ahead to the second murder.
already her mind had left this case and had gone ahead to the second murder.
‘I am sure that he was alive, Brehon,’ said Donal respectfully, ‘and I am sure that I only hit him with my fist. He was an old man and he was the father of the girl that I love. I deeply regret what I have done and I am willing to pay whatever fine you impose, but I did not kill the man.’
‘Has anyone else anything to say?’ asked Mara looking around.
‘I would like to say that Donal came to me immediately and told me what he had done,’ said Maeve, stepping forward bravely. ‘I believed what he said and several times, during the next hour or so, we kept listening for my father. When he didn’t come, Donal went back. If he were still unconscious he was going to carry him back and help me to tend him. When he found that someone had killed my father, I was the one who persuaded him not to say anything. I was afraid that he might be blamed. The fault is mine as much as his.’
‘No, the fault is mine,’ insisted Donal, looking fondly at his beloved.
I’d better put a stop to this, thought Mara. Aloud she said, ‘Thank you, Maeve, you may return to your place. Has anyone else anything to say?’ She looked around but no one moved.
‘Donal O’Brien,’ she said, ‘I find you guilty of assaulting Ragnall MacNamara, steward, and causing him grievous injury on the evening of Michaelmas Day. I find you not guilty of Ragnall’s murder. I examined him myself and I saw that two blows had been struck: one was probably with a fist and the other, the blow that killed him, was struck with a stone cross. This crime was the work of another man and it
appears very likely that the crime was committed by a man who is now dead.’
appears very likely that the crime was committed by a man who is now dead.’
All the time that Mara was allocating the fine to Donal and listening to his formal expression of regret, her mind was on Turlough. His behaviour was strange. What was going to happen? Was Murrough going to turn up and defend himself, or was Turlough hoping that the case would not be mentioned, or that he could forbid the discussion of it? And then the matter was finished. Donal returned to his place and still there was no move from the king.
Mara waited for a moment. There was an audible murmur of appreciation rippling through the crowd. Donal’s open confession and expression of regret would stand him in good stead in the future with the people. There were many smiles of sympathy as Maeve slipped her hand into his as he returned to his position by her side.
Mara allowed the murmur to die down before signalling to Fachtnan. He handed the final leaf of vellum to her. She glanced through it for a moment, less to familiarize herself with its contents than to give herself an extra moment before facing her ordeal.
‘Last case,’ she said then, her voice crisp and unemotional. She rolled up the vellum and held the scroll lightly in her right hand. ‘Aengus MacNamara, miller, of Oughtmama, was slain on the eve of Michaelmas.’ She paused and looked around at the crowd. All eyes had now left hers. Startled, she followed their direction and saw that Turlough had risen to his feet and was striding towards her. He bowed stiffly to her, but did not meet her eyes.
‘My lady judge,’ he said formally. For the first time since she had met him, his tone had all the regal tones of a king of
three kingdoms. ‘With your permission, I would wish to speak on this matter.’
three kingdoms. ‘With your permission, I would wish to speak on this matter.’
‘Of course, my lord.’ Her tone was as steady and formal as his own. Her eyes met his and they did not waver. She hoped that she had conveyed to him the strength of her purpose. Then she moved away and sat on the boulder from which he had risen and turned her face attentively towards him. There was a long moment before he spoke, but when he did, his voice rang out like that of a chief on the battlefield.
‘My friends, for almost ten years I have been coming here to judgement days at Poulnabrone on the Burren. During all of these ten years, I have just sat here and listened to your Brehon. Throughout the whole of that time, I have never felt that I needed to intervene, that I needed to take matters into my own hands. Every case has been dealt with by Mara, the Brehon of the Burren, showing the wisdom that understands the law and the compassion that understands the person.’
He stopped for a moment and looked around. His eyes did not meet Mara’s, but she knew that he had made eye contact with many of the crowd. Every face was intent upon him.
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