Whispers of the Dead by Peter Tremayne Read Free Book Online

explain the meaning of that remark,” invited Fidelma.
    Sister Corb had a long, thin, angular face. Her features seemed permanently set in a look of disapproving derision.
    “Little explanation needed. The girl was touched.”
    “Touched?”
    “Crazy.”
    “Perhaps you might explain how that manifested itself and why it would lead to her death?”
    The abbot interrupted anxiously.
    “I think it might be better explained, Fidelma, by saying that the girl, Sister Aróc, isolated herself from most of us in the community. Her behavior was… eccentric.”
    The abbot had paused to try to find the correct word.
    Fidelma suppressed a sigh.
    “I am still not sure how this manifested itself. Are you saying that the girl was half-wit? Was her behavior uncontrollable? Exactly what marked her out as so different that death was an inevitable outcome?”
    “Sister Aróc was a fanatic about religious beliefs.” It was the moon-faced steward of the abbey, Brother Echen, who spoke up for the first time. “She claimed that she heard voices. She said that they were”—he screwed up his eyes and genuflected—“she said they were voices of the saints.”
    Sister Corb sniffed in disapproval.
    “She used it as an excuse not to obey the Rule of the community. She claimed she was in direct communication with the soul of theBlessed Declan. I would have had her flogged for blasphemy but Abbot Rian is a most humane man.”
    Fidelma could not help the censure that came into her voice.
    “If, as you say, the girl was touched, not of the same mental faculty as others, what good would a flogging have done?” she asked dryly.
    “I still do not see how this behavior would have led to her death… her death
sooner or later
was the phrase I think you used, Sister Corb?”
    Sister Corb looked disconcerted.
    “What I meant to say was that Sister Aróc was otherworldly. Naive, if you like. She did not know how… how lecherous men can be.”
    The abbot seemed to have a coughing fit and Brother Echen seemed to have taken an intense interest in his feet.
    Fidelma stared hard at the woman. Her eyebrow rose in automatic question.
    “I mean… I mean that Aróc was not versed in the ways of the world. She let herself enjoy the company of men without realizing what men expect from a young girl.”
    The abbot had regained his composure.
    “Sadly, Sister Aróc was not possessed of good sense but I think that Sister Corb might be overstating the attraction that Aróc could stir in the minds of any male members of our community.”
    Sister Corb’s lips twisted cynically.
    “The Father Abbot sees only the good in people. It does not matter the extent of the attractive qualities, a young girl is a young girl!”
    Fidelma raised her hands in a gesture indicating hopelessness and let them fall.
    “I am trying to understand what is implied here and how this is providing a clue to how and why Sister Aróc came by her death in such bizarre circumstances.”
    Sister Corb’s eyes narrowed slightly and she stared across the chapel ground to where Brother Ross was leaning against the low dividing wall, still looking pale and shaken.
    “Have you asked him?”
    “Brother Ross? Why?”
    Sister Corb’s lips compressed.
    “In fairness, I should not say another word.”
    “You have either said too much or too little,” Fidelma replied dourly.
    “Where was he when the killing took place?”
    “That I can answer,” Fidelma replied. “Brother Ross was conducting the band of pilgrims around the sites associated with the Blessed Declan. I was part of that band.”
    Sister Corb was not convinced.
    “How can you be so sure?” she demanded.
    “Brother Ross had been with us during the last two hours.”
    “So why could he not have killed the girl before he met you?” pressed Sister Corb, refusing to be budged from her suspicion.
    “Because”—smiled Fidelma—“she was killed not long before we arrived at the chapel and found her. In fact, I would say she