Death of an Icon Read online

  Beneath the altar stood a silver crucifix and two golden chalices. In one of them, was a rosary of green stone beads. Fidelma reached forward and took them out. She regarded them for a moment or two and then heaved a deep sigh.

  Gathering them in her arms she retraced her steps to Father Mailin's chamber. He was still seated at his desk. He began to rise when she entered, and then his eyes fell to the trophies she carried. He turned pale and slumped back in his seat.

  "Where did you ..." he began, trying to summon up some residue of sharpness by which he hoped to control the situation.

  "Listen to me," she interrupted harshly. "I have told you that it is impossible to accept your story that thieves broke in, killed Gelasius and left him in a room secured from the inside. I then find that you disapproved of the work which Gelasius was doing and after his death destroyed it. Tell me how these matters add up to a reasonable explanation?" Father Mailin was shaking his head. "It was wrong to blame the itinerants. I realize that. It seemed that it was the only excuse I could make. As soon as I realized the situation, I distracted the brethren and quickly went into the chapel and removed the first things that came to hand. The crucifix and the cups. These I placed under the altar where you doubtless discovered them. I returned to Gelasius's room and seized the opportunity to take his rosary from the drawer. Then it was easy. I could now claim that we had been robbed."

  "And you destroyed Gelasius's work?"

  "I only collected the text that Gelasius had been working on at the time and destroyed it lest it corrupt the minds of the faithful. Surely it was better to remember Gelasius in the vigour of his youth when he took up the banner of the Faith against all corners and destroyed the idols of the past? Why remember him as he was in his dotage, in his senility - an old embittered man filled with self-doubts?"

  "Is that how you saw him?"

  "That is how he became, and this I say even though he had been a father to me. He taught us to overthrow the idols of the pagans, to recant the sins of our fathers who lived in heathendom ..."

  "By despising, denigrating and destroying all that has preceded us, we will simply teach this and future generations to despise our beliefs. Veritas vos liiberabit!"

  Father Mailin stared at her quizzically.

  "How do you know that?"

  "You did not destroy all Gelasius's notes. Gelasius, towards the end of his life, suddenly began to realize the cultural wealth he had been instrumental in destroying. It began to prey on his mind that instead of bringing civilization and knowledge to this land, he was destroying thousands of years of learning. Benignus writes that the Blessed Patrick himself, in his missionary zeal, burnt 180 books of the Druids. Imagine the loss to learning!"

  "It was right that such books of pagan impropriety be destroyed," protested the Father Superior.

  "To a true scholar it was a sacrilege that should never have happened."

  "He was wrong."

  "The burning of books, the destruction of knowledge, is a great crime against humanity. No matter in whose name it is done," replied Fidelma. "Gelasius saw that. He knew he was partially responsible for a crime which he had committed against his own culture as well as the learning of the world."

  Father Mailin was silent for a moment and then he said: "I did not kill him. He took his own life. That was why I tried to blame the itinerants."

  "Gelasius was murdered," Fidelma said. "But not by the itinerants. He was murdered by a member of this community."

  Father Mailin was pale and shocked.

  "You cannot believe that I ... I only meant to cover up his own suicide and hide the nature of his work. I did not kil] him?"

  "I realize that. . . now. The thing that had misled me was the fact that you and the real killer both shared a fear of the nature of Gelasius's work. But you both took different ways of dealing with it. When the killer struck, he wanted to make it appear that Gelasius committed suicide and so discredit him. However, you, believing that Gelasius's suicide was genuine, and would bring discredit on the Faith, then tried to disguise what you thought was a suicide and blame itinerants for murder."

  "Who killed the Venerable Gelasius, then?" demanded Father Mailin. "And how? There was only one key and you say that you found it in the room."

  "Let me first explain why I did not think Gelasius took his own life. The obvious point was that it was physically impossible for him to do so. He was old and frail. I stood on the bed and reached to the roof beam. I am tall and therefore could reach it. But for an elderly and frail man, and one of short stature, it was impossible for him to stand on the bed, tie the rope and hang himself.

  "Yet one of your brethren went to considerable lengths to draw attention to the nature of the work that Gelasius was doing, pretending to express approval for it but, at the same time, hinting that Gelasius was so overawed by his revelations that he could not face the fact of his complicity in the destruction of our ancient beliefs and rituals. He even said that Gelasius had approved of a quotation by Pliny which, cunningly he left for me to find, having wetted my curiosity. It was the passage where Pliny wrote that, 'amid the suffering of life, suicide is the gods' best gift to men'. The murderer was Brother Ledbán."

  "Ledbán?" Father Mailin looked at her in amazement. "The Delbatotr? But he worked closely with the Venerable Gelasius . . ."

  "And so knew all about his work. And one of the mistakes Ledbán made was in pretending he had no knowledge of Ogham when, as you yourself testify, he knew enough to accuse Gelasius of wrong interpretation."

  "But there is one thing you cannot explain," Father Mailin pointed out, "and in this your whole argument falls apart. There was only one key and that you confess you found inside Gelasius's room."

  Fidelma smiled knowingly.

  "I think you will find a second key. What is the task of Brother Ledbán?"

  "He's the Delbatoir . . . why?"

  "He makes the metal book plates and book shrines, casting them from moulds in gold or silver. It is not beyond his capability to cast a second key, having made a mould from the first. You simply take the key and press it into wax to form the mould from which you will make your cast. You will note, as I did, the key I found - Gelasius's own key - was covered in grease. A search of Ledbán's chamber or his forge should bring the second key to light if he does not confess when faced with the rest of the evidence."

  "I see."

  "However, it was wrong of you, Father Mailin, to try to disguise the manner of Gelasius's death."

  "You must understand my position. I did believe Gelasius had committed suicide. If so, the nature of his work would be revealed. Would you rather Christendom knew that one of its great theologians committed suicide in protest at being responsible for the destruction of a few pagan books?"

  "I would rather Christendom might learn from such an act. However, it was a greater guilt to fabricate the false evidence."

  "My desire was to save Gelasius from condemnation," protested Father Mailin.

  "Had Gelasius resorted to suicide, then he would have been condemned for his action," Fidelma said. "What was it that Martial wrote?

  When all the flattery of life is gone

  The fearful steal away to death, the brave live on.

  "But, as you frequently remarked, the Venerable Gelasius was a brave man and would have lived to argue his case had he not been murdered. I will leave it to you to arrest Brother Ledbán and await instructions from the Abbot." She smiled sadly and turned towards the door. "Must everything come out?" called Father Mailin. "Must all be revealed?"

  "That is up to the Abbot," replied Fidelma, glancing back. "Thankfully, in this case, it is not in my purview to make such moral judgments on what took place here. I only have to report the facts to the Abbot."

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