Free Abbot's Passion by Stephen Wheeler Page B

didn’t realise that till I saw one today. They slot in, you see, one on the left side of the stall and one on the right. Quite clever really.’
    Samson twitched. ‘Get to the point.’
    ‘This is the rod from the right side of the stall, the one that Fidele used to whack Hamo on the shin - you’ll notice it’s bent where he hit him with it. The other rod, the one from the left side, is the one that ended up in Fidele’s chest.’
    Eustache frowned. ‘What does it matter which rod killed him? It is who killed him we are concerned with.’
    ‘It matters, father, because Hamo was never near the left side of the stall. I can vouch for that. He was all the time up at the market cross end, the right side of the stall. The only rod he had access to was this one. And since I found it under the rubble and it’s not sticking out of Fidele’s chest it follows that it couldn’t be the murder weapon. Therefore Hamo could not have been the killer.’
    For a moment neither abbot said anything, both trying to absorb what I was saying.
    ‘Left-hand rods, right-hand rods,’ snorted Eustache at last. ‘I too was there, monsieur le détective . We all know who killed Fidele. It was glove-seller.’
    ‘With respect, father, no we don’t know that. Not for certain. And there’s more,’ I said ignoring his jibe. ‘I also think the blow came from behind which would further rule out Hamo as the killer.’ I went on to explain my theory about the rod projecting further from the side it entered the body. By the time I’d finished the two of them were staring at me in incredulous silence. But I could tell from Samson’s expression that I had sown a seed of doubt there at least.
    ‘Where is the murder weapon now?’ he asked. ‘The one that did end up in Fidele’s chest?’
    ‘Ah. There’s a bit of a problem there. It seems to have gone missing.’
    ‘Ha!’ Eustache snorted. ‘How convenient!’
    ‘It was still in Fidele’s body when he was taken to the abbey,’ I insisted. ‘But it was removed so he could be laid out on the altar. Since then it appears to have, erm...disappeared.’
    ‘Is that the reason you wanted to view the body?’ asked Samson tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin.
    Eustache jumped in before I could reply: ‘You have been to view the body? Well then, that’s the answer. You, maître , took the rod, planted it under the rubble and then pretended to find it.’
    My jaw dropped in astonishment at that. ‘Why on earth would I want to do that?’
    ‘Because you do not want this man to be caught. That has been obvious from the start.’
    ‘Now just a minute,’ interrupted Samson. ‘Don’t let’s get carried away. Brother Walter hasn’t planted anything - except a lot of confusion. There’s obviously an explanation. I also saw the body. There was a rod protruding when it was brought to the abbey church, Walter’s right about that.’
    ‘You saw the body, father?’ I said. ‘In that case you’ll know which side the rod was projecting from.’
    ‘I...can’t remember.’
    ‘Father!’ I groaned with exasperation.
    ‘I can’t be expected to notice something like that,’ defended Samson. ‘It meant nothing to me which side the damn thing was sticking out until you mentioned it just now.’
    Eustache gave a snort of contempt. ‘ C’est une théorie très fragile . I have a better one. What if Fidele had been running away when he was attacked? In that case he would have had his back turned to his killer.’
    I admit that was the one weak part of my theory. But would Fidele have been running away? He was the attacker. Why would he run? No, I was sure he would have been facing Hamo when the fatal blow was struck.
    But Eustache was looking pleased with himself. ‘If you want my opinion there never was a second rod. This,’ he said pointing to the one on the desk, ‘is the only one.’
    ‘Then where is the blood? And before you suggest it, no I did not wipe it clean. It’s