A Quiet Death (21 page)

'Or she was anxious not to be recognised,' said Elliott slowly.

'Did anyone see her arrive or depart?' Vince asked.

'No one,' replied Faro.

Elliott looked crestfallen as only a detective can when deprived of evidence to link the main suspect with the murder.

'Any other ideas, sir? I understand you both knew the victim.'

'We had a slight acquaintance,' said Faro.

'Good, that is a great help. For motive, and soon.'

'I think I can assess from the state of the room how the murder was accomplished and from the evidence, this case has all the marks of the crime passionel.'

'A woman's crime, is that it. Stepfather?'

'Do I take it you have hopes of an early arrest, Inspector?' Elliott interrupted. And seizing upon Faro's non-committal response as affirmation: 'Excellent. Well, well, I never expected this kind of progress. You are certainly living up to your reputation, sir.'

Faro smiled wryly. 'First catch your murderer, Elliott.'

'I would say it's an open and shut case.'

'Yes indeed,' said Vince enthusiastically. 'Ten to one it is the missing Mrs Burnett.'

'The hotel staff were very eager for a bit of gossip. Apparently Mr and Mrs Burnett were never seen in the dining room like any other married couple, honeymooners apart. Had all their meals in the upstairs suite,' said McQuinn. He had been very busy, very thorough with his interviews at the hotel.

'And being wise after the event, the manager said he thought it highly suspicious that a gentleman allegedly from Arbroath should choose the weekend to conduct his Edinburgh business and receive visits from his wife.'

'I expect Sergeant Elliott knows that Mr Deane had recently become engaged,' said Vince.

'Indeed yes. The Wilkes are very well thought of, a highly respectable family. There is going to be one hell of a scandal when we have to investigate Lady Clara's alibi. Ever met her, Dr Laurie?'

'Not yet.' Vince looked at his stepfather. 'I suppose it is just possible—'

Faro shook his head and said to the detective, 'You're wasting your time. I think you will find that the lady is completely innocent and can account for her movements that night. Also it will come as a considerable shock to her to learn that Deane had a mistress in Edinburgh.'

'A shock to everyone who knew him, Stepfather.'

'And neither lady with any inkling of the other's existence,' said Elliott thoughtfully. 'So if Lady Clara is innocent, all we have to do is find this other woman.'

'That could be quite a poser,' said Vince. 'But I'm sure my stepfather is up to it.' He smiled. 'He is probably one jump ahead of us right now.'

'We need only go as far back as Deane's engagement. I fancy that came as a startling surprise to Mrs Burnett. And fortunately I know exactly where I can lay hands on the lady who calls herself by that name. If you would care to accompany me.'

He turned and looked at his stepson who was listening eagerly.

'You too, Vince lad.'

Vince laughed uneasily. 'Why me?'

'Because you know the way better than I do.'

'You don't mean—Oh no, Stepfather. You can't—'

'I do. And I'm afraid I must.'

Chapter Eighteen

It was a very silent quartet who were deposited by the police carriage in Rose Street. First, Detective Sergeant Elliott and Sergeant McQuinn, to take notes in case an arrest was made, then Vince, shocked into stunned silence by the information that he was to step inside the shop and behave in a casual fashion.

Last to emerge was Faro, clutching a parcel whose contents he did not see fit to divulge. 'Best wait outside, lads.'

'We don't want to alarm her,' said Elliott firmly. 'We don't want any unnecessary violence. But we had best be prepared, Inspector,' he added, patting his greatcoat pocket significantly. 'Let's try to act as normally as possible, Dr Laurie.'

It was doubtful, thought Faro, whether anyone could regard that white stricken face as normal, and he gave his stepson a rallying pat on the shoulder.

As Vince walked to the counter, Faro hovered by the door while Elliott and McQuinn looked through the window keeping the scene under careful scrutiny while trying to remain inconspicuous. It wasn't easy, two tall men and a uniformed constable, who was the driver, all gazing with elaborate concentration at a windowful of ladies' bonnets.

They saw the pretty young assistant step forward, shake her head.

'Come along, Elliott,' said Faro and threw open the door.

As they spread themselves before her, the assistant eyed them with alarm.

'No, I'm afraid Madame is not at home to anyone.'

'I am a friend of hers,' said Vince.

The girl considered his companions doubtfully. 'Madame is indisposed.'

'She will see me,' said Vince winningly and striding purposefully behind the counter opened the door leading upstairs to the flat.

'You can't do that,' protested the girl. 'Wait—I'll lose my job for this.'

Elliott and McQuinn pushed past her up the stairs. Faro paused before a tray of milliner's accessories, then he followed them.

They found Kathleen slumped in a chair by the window. There was something in her attitude which touched an unhappy memory for Faro. She looked up at them with a wan smile.

'I've been expecting this visit, gentlemen.' She turned her gaze to Faro, said softly, 'You've come to arrest me, haven't you, Inspector?' And nodding vigorously, 'Yes, I did it. I killed Wilfred Deane.'

Faro heard a sigh of relief from Elliott. There was going to be no violence, just a confession and a peaceful arrest.

'I'm glad you've come,' she said, rising wearily, supported by her hands on the arms of the chair. 'Strange, it's better to be taken by friends.' Looking intently at Vince, 'By people who care about what happens to you rather than by impersonal constables who are merely doing their duty.'

'Have you the murder weapon, Kathleen?' asked Faro. 'You used a long hatpin, like this one,' he added, flourishing that same article used by ladies to stab their hats into submission, which he had picked up from the counter downstairs. 'Am I right?'

Kathleen's face paled, her hands flew to her throat as if she felt the rope around it. For a moment he thought she was about to faint.

'Will they hang me?' she whispered.

'Sit down, lass,' he said not unkindly. 'We'll do the best we can for you. It was self-defence, after all, was it not? May I?' And leaning forward he pulled aside the silk scarf she wore. On her neck, on either side of her throat, were two ugly bruises.

Vince swore. 'Did he do that to you?'

Before she could reply Faro said, 'Be so good as to pour a glass of water for her, will you please.' And to Elliott, 'You see I was perfectly sure that when Miss Neil visited the hotel room that evening as Mrs Burnett, she had not the least intention of murdering her lover. He had summoned her as usual, but this time with the express motive of getting rid of her.'

'Surely that's a bit steep,' said Elliott. 'I mean, if he was just breaking it off—'

'Bear with me, if you please. Deane had excellent reason for not "just breaking it off" as you call it. He had to shut Miss Neil's mouth for good. Believe me, gentlemen, his whole future was at stake. And if anyone had murder in his heart that evening, it was Wilfred Deane. And when he attacked her, so brutally and unexpectedly, she used the first and only weapon to hand—the long pin which had secured her bonnet.'

He paused and looked down at Kathleen. 'Perhaps you would like to tell us in your own words what happened, lass.'

As Kathleen spoke, she threw occasional glances of appeal and apology in Vince's direction. 'When I first met Vince I told him—'

'If you please, lass, we'd like to hear it right from the beginning. How and where you first

met Wilfred Deane. This will all need to come out in court,' Faro added to McQuinn who had taken out his notebook in readiness.

'I met Wilfred Deane when I was working with Uncle Willie McGonagall in the factory. He isn't my uncle really,' she said, 'just a remote cousin who was very kind after my mother died. Anyway, he got me a job in the jute factory, hoping to train me for the stage. He wanted me to be a Shakespearean actress. But I was never any good at that.

'One day when Wilfred was visiting the factory he came and talked to me. I felt very flattered. He came often after that and I guessed that he was taken with me. Of course I played up to him, he was a wealthy man.'

She paused. 'To cut a long story short, after we became—intimate—he bought me this shop in Edinburgh. He didn't want anyone to know and I was to pretend that I had gone to London. I didn't mind, I would have done anything for him. Anything.'

The word was a whisper, her sigh remembered. 'He asked very little in return. Just that he might come and visit me when he was able to do so. He often has business meetings to attend here. I agreed. Who wouldn't? After life in the factory, it was a very good exchange. And after my early life in a Dublin slum,' she added bitterly.

'When Sir Arnold died and Wilfred inherited I presumed the family opposition to his marrying me that he talked about would be at an end. No one could disinherit him now for marrying a former factory girl. The whole of Deane's was his now. I had a note—I have it here somewhere—to meet him as usual for the weekend at the Royal British Hotel.'

From her reticule she produced a crumpled piece of paper which she handed to Faro. 'But this time I was in for a shock. I wasn't prepared to find out that everything he had told me and had promised was a lie. He told me to prepare myself for bad news. He could not marry me, first of all. He had to marry this Lady Clara, but this was to be a marriage of convenience. He needed Lady Clara's money to keep Deane's afloat, but he did not love her.

'I was to rest assured that I was his one true love and there was no reason why we should not continue as before, this arrangement had worked so well. Of course I was very upset and disappointed. I wept. I had waited all this time for him to be free to marry me. I had no wish to remain in the backwater of his life as his mistress, seeing him only when he could visit Edinburgh.

'We never went outside the hotel in case we were recognised. I was always heavily veiled. What kind of life was that? I wanted to be at his side—as his wife, living at Deane Hall. I wanted children too,' she added bleakly.

'When I told him all this, he kissed me, assured me that I was worrying unnecessarily. Do you know, he never once lost his temper. So patient with me, smiling, understanding.'

Taking a deep breath, she continued painfully. 'As he held me, he removed my bonnet, loosened my hair. As he usually did before—before—'

Her sudden pause, eyes wide, relived that moment. In panic she was suddenly aware of this audience of men.

'We quite understand, lass,' said Faro hastily.

She shook her head tearfully. ' "Never worry, my dearest. We will think of something. Rest assured of that." And those were his very last words to me. He shook down my hair, let it fall about my shoulders, put his hands round my throat. I thought he was about to caress me. I closed my eyes.'

Her voice faded and her hands trembled towards the bruises. 'But his grip grew tighter and I saw in his eyes reflected in the dressing-table mirror that he meant to kill me. The room was growing darker. I struggled frantically. I'm quite strong really and I pushed him hard, he let me go. But as I tried to reach the door he came at me again, knocked me down with his fist.

'I fell beside the bed, put out my hand to struggle to my knees and felt my bonnet—with the pin still sticking out of it. He turned me to face him, his hands tight around my throat again and I struck at his chest with all my might.

'You know the rest,' she ended wearily and, sobbing, buried her face in her hands.

As Faro went forward, put a hand on her shoulder, she looked up. 'I've sat here for the past two days, trying to summon up courage to give myself up. The waiting was worse than seeing you coming up the stairs, I can tell you. I'm glad you came. Now I can be peaceful. Will they hang me, Mr Faro?' she asked again.

'I think when all your story is known, no jury will convict you, Kathleen. There would be a public outcry against any such verdict. Especially as you saved the hangman a job.'

'I don't know about that, Faro,' said Sergeant Elliott.

'Let me finish,' said Faro. 'A public outcry, since Wilfred Deane is himself a murderer—'

'Hold on, Faro. Attempted only—' Elliott protested.

Faro shook his head. 'Deane has already committed murder and escaped justice. As Kathleen well knows.'

It was Kathleen's turn to protest. 'I don't know anything about that, sir. Honest I don't.' But there was panic in her voice, terror in her eyes.

'I think you do. You see, I believe all your story. Except for the first part. You weren't being quite straight with us, were you? About Deane's reasons for not marrying you? Oh, it is true he was going to have to make a marriage for business reasons with a woman whom he did not love. But you knew about that right from the beginning. He made no secret of it.'