The inquisitor, seizing the moment, ordered an immediate execution of the three men held responsible for the other crimes, saying that the Devil would not cease his work until his instruments were purified by fire. At once he ordered the building of three pyres inside the compound, saying that the service of compline would be carried out as usual in an effort to stay the hand of the enemies of Christ, but that immediately after, the abbey would be cleansed of evil.
In the confusion that ensued we crept away and I followed my master in the direction of the church. Outside the inquisitor’s men were already making preparations for the terrible event. Monks gathered around aimlessly, for there was little use returning to any other work when the future of the monastery lay in ruins. I frowned, pushing my head down further into my cowl as we made our approach to the church.
‘Will they not notice that we have gone, master?’
‘Perhaps, but we cannot waste any more time. Soon there will be three pyres burning two innocent men, and tomorrow this place will be a carcass whose bones will have been picked by the pope’s greedy captains. We must get into the catacombs soon!’ he said.
‘So who is responsible for these crimes? You said two innocent men would die on the pyre, that means one is guilty.’
‘A fine deduction,’ he mocked me. ‘Perhaps soon you will see, Christian, why Aristotle was right when he said that evidence under torture is not trustworthy because under its compulsion men tell lies quite as often as they tell the truth. I fear there are a number of guilty persons. Perhaps in one way or another we are all guilty.’
‘Who then, master?’ I pressed. ‘I know you know something.’
‘One of them it is certain is a monk with small feet,’ he answered as we entered the church. ‘This morning after the discovery of Daniel’s body, when you were sleeping off your gluttony in the larder, I visited his room again. Something bothered me, and I realised it was the size of the footprint on the floor. Before going there, however, I took the liberty of procuring a sandal that belonged to Daniel from the infirmary. I took it to his room and found that its size was inconsistent with the size of the print whose traces could still be seen – because blood that has congealed is not always easy to remove in haste. The print was not our departed brother’s, but belonged rather to someone else, someone with very small feet. Do you remember how I said that the one who hit me on the head that morning also had small feet?’
‘Yes . . . That means that we have finally found the evidence that we need to connect the author of our notes with the killer!’
‘Yes, but only with Daniel’s killer.’
‘Then whoever it is must have killed Setubar, too?’
‘That is what we are going to find out.’
‘I thought we were going to the church?’
‘Later. Anyone who saw us leave would naturally think so, and that is precisely what I intend them to think. We are really going elsewhere . . . to the infirmarian’s cell.’
Once through the church we made our way up the night stairs and to the dormitorium. Andre led me to a room identical to all the others, and here he began searching about, inside a small desk, under the pallet, rummaging in the straw very carefully, until, after a moment, he exclaimed, ‘Aha!’ He had retrieved a short metal bar that he placed in the repository within the folds of his vestments.
‘What is it, master?’
‘The murder weapon,’ he answered, and it was as plain as day Asa was the killer.
He looked at me with a satisfied look. ‘It is as I suspected. Now we shall return to the church and await the service. We must not give the inquisitor reason to believe we know more than he thinks we know, must we?’
‘If Asa is the killer, master, why did he demand to endure the ordeal?’
‘Asa is a man of science, I believe he took a chance, he was doomed anyway and he knew it.’
‘But master, come to think of it, Asa is not small.’
‘No. See this note?’ My master handed it to me. ‘I found it in my room earlier.’
I read it, and found it was written in the same identifiable hand and blue ink.
Physician heal thyself – Basmallah.
‘What is that word?’
‘It is Arabic, a Koranic formula which translates to: in the name of God the compassionate, the merciful.’
‘But what does it mean?’
‘Numerically it is profoundly significant, Christian, for it connotes the seven planets and the twelve zodiacal signs. We are told that he who desires immunity against the nineteen henchmen of hell needs to recite the Basmallah.’
I gasped, trembling all over, ‘Oh! He threatens your life, master, he knew you would understand it.’