Shroud for the Archbishop by Peter Tremayne

Why do you ask? Perhaps,
you will now tell me what has happened to cause my being brought hither?’
    Marinus gave a deep sigh, pausing as if to gather his thoughts.
    ‘Wighard, the archbishop-designate of Canterbury, who was to have authority over all the abbots and bishops of the Saxon kingdoms, was found dead at midnight by a decurion of the palace guards. Not only that, but his chamber was robbed of the priceless gifts which he was to present to the Holy Father at his official audience later today.’

Chapter Four
    ‘Am I suspected of some involvement in the death of Wighard of Canterbury?’ Fidelma demanded coldly, after she realised the gravity of the Superista’ s news.
    Marinus looked unhappy and spread his hands, an odd gesture which implied some apology.
    ‘I had to ask the questions. Many people might wish Wighard dead, especially those who opposed Canterbury’s support of Roman rule among the Saxon kingdoms.’
    ‘Then we are talking of countless thousands who would wish that Canterbury had not been successful at the council at Witebia,’ replied Fidelma icily.
    ‘But not that many in Rome who have an opportunity,’ Marinus said slyly.
    ‘Are you saying that Wighard was slain by someone who was angered by the success of Canterbury during the recent synod at Hilda’s monastery?’
    ‘No such conclusions have yet been reached.’
    ‘Then why am I here?’
    ‘To help us, Sister Fidelma,’ replied a new voice. ‘That is, if you would.’
    Fidelma looked round and found the tall, thin figure of
Bishop Gelasius shuffling forward from a side door which had been shielded by a curtain. He had obviously been standing there listening to Marinus’ interrogation of her.
    Fidelma rose uncertainly in deference to the bishop’s rank.
    Gelasius held out his left hand. This time Fidelma did not even bother to take it but folded her arms before her and inclined her head in a brief bow of acknowledgment. Her lips were compressed into a thin, determined line. If these Romans were going to accuse her of some responsibility with Wighard’s death then she felt no obligation to make any token of obeisant observation. Gelasius sighed and took the chair which Marinus had now vacated. The military governor of the Lateran stood respectfully to one side, slightly behind the chair.
    ‘Bring the monk in, Marinus,’ Gelasius instructed, ‘and be you seated, Fidelma of Kildare.’
    Fidelma was now faintly bewildered as she sank back into her seat. Gelasius seemed to share Marinus’ anxiety and it was reflected on his gaunt features.
    Marinus strode across the room to the door and signalled someone beyond.
    There was a pause. Gelasius sat staring at the fire a while before he raised his eyes towards the newcomer who had entered the officium and stood waiting patiently.
    Fidelma turned around on her chair. Her eyes widened in surprise.
    ‘Brother Eadulf!’
    Eadulf smiled, a little tiredly, as he crossed with the Superista and stood hesitantly before Bishop Gelasius.
    ‘Be seated, Eadulf of Canterbury.’
    Marinus had brought forward two more wooden chairs,
scraping the stone floor as he did so, and seated himself on one while Eadulf took the other.
    Fidelma turned back to Gelasius with a look of interrogation.
    The bishop spread his hands and smiled in placation.
    ‘You have merely confirmed what our Saxon brother Eadulf has told us …’
    ‘Then … ?’ began Fidelma, her perplexity showing.
    The bishop raised a hand to command silence.
    ‘This death of Wighard is a serious matter. No one is above suspicion. You freely admitted that you were one of the delegates who were in conflict with Canterbury at the synod held at Hilda’s monastery. You might easily have sought vengeance on Wighard who, as archbishop-designate of Canterbury, had emerged victorious from the argument.’
    As Fidelma exhaled deeply in annoyance he continued hurriedly: ‘But, Brother Eadulf has informed us of the singular service you performed