Deadly Beloved (13 page)

A long silence followed and Faro, looking at Mrs Shaw, decided this was going to be a difficult interview. Drawing conversation promised to be what was known in Orkney as 'hard as drawing hen's teeth'.

He was puzzled by the lovely face, which should have added up to a beautiful young woman, but his first impression returned. At the Kellar's dinner party, he had mistaken that rather vacant preoccupied stare for grief. Now he wasn't quite so sure about whatever emotions, if any, she had bottled up behind that spectacular façade. What had Vince called it: Like talking to a beautiful stone statue. He wondered about those Caithness in-laws, had they disapproved of the match?

"I am anxious for news of Mabel, Inspector."

"I was hoping you might have heard from her."

Mrs Shaw shook her head.

"You have had no communication from her?"

She seemed surprised by the question. "None at all. I was very shocked when Dr Kellar called to tell me that she had never been to North Berwick."

"When did he tell you that?"

"Oh, ages ago." She shrugged. "More than a week. Mabel is very fond of me and, naturally, this was the very first place he came to seek her." She paused and then said, "It doesn't seem a bit like her, you know. Such a considerate person, not the kind who would willingly cause anyone a moment's anxiety." She frowned. "I wonder where on earth she can be?"

Faro decided to say nothing of the cloak and the knife at this stage. Presumably she hadn't read the newspaper.

"You have no idea what has happened to her. Inspector?"

The idea that Faro had was now almost a certainty. But he dismissed it as much too cruel and brutal to put to Mrs Kellar's 'dearest friend and companion'. A man who shied away from womanly tears at the best of times, he did not care for the prospect of dealing with a hysterical woman whose best friend has been murdered.

"I came here in the hope that she might have confided in you sometime. Mentioned friends she could be visiting ..."

"Without telling Dr Kellar?" Mrs Shaw sounded shocked. "She told him everything. As for pretending to go to North Berwick and then going somewhere else and staying away and frightening everyone, as I've told you, Inspector, she wasn't that sort of woman at all."

Faro sighed deeply. There was no way of shielding her from the unpleasant truth. "I have to tell you that Mrs Kellar's disappearance is being regarded as a very serious matter by the City Police. And if, as a close friend of hers, you know of anything, no matter how insignificant, that might shed some light on her whereabouts, then I must prevail upon you to tell me."

Mrs Shaw frowned. "I cannot think of a single thing that would be of any help. You know as much as I do. I am so sorry, it has been rather a waste of your time coming to me."

"Not at all. I came at Dr Kellar's suggestion."

Mrs Shaw coloured slightly. Her expression was fleetingly angry.

"So he told you to come here — "

Her voice rising in indignation made Faro interrupt hastily, "We have to take everything into account, no matter how seemingly obvious or trivial." Preparing her for what followed, he paused before adding, "I gather from Dr Kellar that he spent part of the day that Mrs Kellar disappeared here with you. A minor detail, I'm sure, but necessary for our information."

Confusion had overtaken anger and she hung her head. "Mabel sometimes sends messages by him if he is to be in this area."

"And was it a message he brought that day?"

She looked embarrassed. "Something of the sort. Yes."

"Could you be a little more explicit, Mrs Shaw?"

"Mabel had sent me some baby clothes for Barnaby. She is very kind to us."

"Did Dr Kellar stay long?"

She frowned. "About an hour or so."

"I understand you gave him lunch and then he took you and the baby for a drive that afternoon," Faro reminded her gently.

Mrs Shaw looked as if she was trying hard to remember. "Yes — yes, of course." Her second affirmative was more convincing than the first. "Why all these questions? I know nothing of Mabel's whereabouts. As for hiding her," she continued, her colour heightening, "the house is yours to search, Inspector. Please go and satisfy your curiosity. There are no locked doors, only a lot of very empty rooms."

Her voice was pathetic suddenly and Faro said assuringly, "Please., Mrs Shaw, there is no need to upset yourself I believe you."

"That's a relief. You see, Mrs Kellar has been very friendly towards me, but I cannot think of one good reason why she should want to leave her own very comfortable house and take refuge in mine. Just look around you, Inspector," she added bitterly. "You can see how little there is here for a woman of quality."

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Mrs Shaw, but we have to speak to all her friends and acquaintances. Dr Kellar is very anxious that she should be found."

He did not add that the main purpose of his visit to check Kellar's alibi, had been successful. As he was leaving, he paused by the grand piano with its sheaves of music. "You are to be congratulated on your playing, Mrs Shaw. It was a great pleasure, most exciting to hear your rendering of the Beethoven. I wonder, have you ever performed in public?"

"You mean on the concert platform? Oh no. I did consider it at one time, but that is rather a long story and a long time ago."

Unless she was much older than she looked it couldn't have been all that long ago, thought Faro, suddenly curious.

"Have you thought of taking in pupils?" he asked delicately.

"I might. When Barnaby is a little older."

Faro detected little enthusiasm for that idea. As she was showing him out, he had one more question: "By the way, did you happen to meet anyone who knew you — any friend or neighbour — when you and Dr Kellar were out driving together two weeks ago?"

Again she coloured, this time angrily. Her eyes widened in the dawn of a new and horrifying realisation. "You surely — you can't — you don't imagine for a moment that Dr Kellar would — would — would harm dear Mabel? The idea is preposterous. He is your police surgeon."

As she leaned weakly against the banister, Faro felt suddenly avuncular towards the pitifully young and helplessly inadequate woman. He patted her shoulder, murmured to her not to worry, it would be all sorted out and left as sharply as politeness allowed.

As he walked swiftly down the hill overlooking the ruined and ancient Abbey and the modern railway line, Faro had a feeling that there were some curious omissions from Mrs Shaw's statements.

Her shocked realisation that Dr Kellar was under suspicion seemed genuine enough. Obviously she had no idea yet that Mabel Kellar's disappearance was being treated as murder. Of that he was certain. But he was also left with a clear impression that Mrs Shaw was not as fond of Mabel Kellar as he had first thought, or as the latter had implied during the dinner party. Eveline Shaw did not reciprocate the older woman's affection or see her in the role of 'sister of the spirit'. Doubtless she encouraged that fond illusion for the benefits that might accrue in her present unhappy situation.

Her home troubled him deeply. The absence of any mementoes implied that Mrs Shaw was very much on her own. Was this indicative that the marriage had been against the wishes of her husband's family? And had they turned their faces away from their son's young widow and their grandchild?

Although at present Faro was aware of no motive to connect Mrs Shaw with Mabel Kellar's disappearance, his natural curiosity suggested that her present circumstances might bear further investigation.

Leaving the house, he had observed several 'For Sale' boards and that they were being negotiated through the firm of Troup and Knowles. Alex Troup was an old friend. Where better to begin a few discreet enquiries about the enigmatic Mrs Shaw?

Chapter 10

At the Central Office, he learned that Sergeant Danny McQuinn had been assigned to help him in the Kellar enquiry. McQuinn had fallen foul of a stray bullet in a dramatic chase across the Pentland Hills and an indulgent Superintendent McIntosh had sent him to County Kerry to recuperate among his numerous relatives.

Once upon a time, Faro would have prayed that the Kellar case would be over before McQuinn returned. But he found his past antipathy dwindling. They had brought to justice several fraud cases recently and although Faro often found McQuinn obnoxious, too eager for admiration from the ladies and for promotion at all costs, he had a grudging respect for McQuinn's efficiency and recognised a detective in the making.

Nevertheless the sight of the sergeant making himself very much at home in his office during his absence revived feelings of profound irritation. It was as if McQuinn, his junior by nearly twenty years, already saw himself ousting Faro as Senior Detective Inspector. What was worse. Faro suspected that the young officer was eagerly anticipating retired — or dead man's — shoes, whichever came first in the annals of daily crime with the Edinburgh City Police.

McQuinn looked up cheekily, tapped out his pipe, removed his feet from the desk, while a grunt of disapproval from his superior officer acknowledged the exaggeratedly smart salute.

"You've recovered, I see."

"Yes, sir. Just a flesh wound. Nothing that good old Kerry air couldn't cure. I reported for duty this morning. Superintendent told me about our police surgeon's wife and that you might need some help. Gave me all your notes to read. An extraordinarily interesting case, Inspector, not at all what we might have expected from Dr Kellar. What was it — a brainstorm? Seems to have possibilities of an early arrest."

"Don't know about that," said Faro shortly. "But you can begin with a visit to the railway

station — "

"I've already been down to Waverley, talked to the porters," interrupted McQuinn. "No sense in waiting until you got back."

"Find out anything?" Again Faro felt unnecessary annoyance at having his orders forestalled.

"One porter thought that a woman answering Mrs Kellar's description took the North Berwick train that morning. Very upset, in tears, he thought."

"I've already spoken to him. The woman in question was leaving her husband and had a wee lad with her."

"Might not have been the same woman," said McQuinn defensively.

"That's what you're expected to find out, McQuinn. The first question you should ask is: was she alone?"

McQuinn, obviously put out at being thwarted of his first useful contribution to the enquiry, ignored the implied reprimand. He stood up, stretched lazily, flexing his shoulders.

"I thought I'd take myself off to Longniddry and have a look round there."

Faro was scribbling a few notes. "You might begin with some routine enquiries here. You know the sort of thing we're after. Check the Surgeons' Club. See if anyone remembers seeing him that night."

McQuinn scanned the notes and looked across at Faro. "This Mrs Shaw? Is she to be regarded as a suspect?"

Faro shook his head. "Not at this stage. But I'd like to know more about her husband's family. Also when the house in Regent Crescent was purchased."

McQuinn grinned. "And who by, eh? Just idle curiosity, sir?"

"You should know by now that my curiosity is never idle, McQuinn," was the stern reply.

At the door McQuinn paused. "I don't know about you. Inspector, but something tells me there's a lot of evidence in that report of yours and nothing that really adds up worth a damn. I feel the answer might still be down at Longniddry."

Faro's homeward journey took him close by Solomon's Tower. It stood bleak and ruinous against the skyline, dramatised by the snow-clad Salisbury Crags and Arthur's Seat. Nearly as old as the Palace of Holyroodhouse itself Faro noticed that, as usual, its dark towers were festooned with the ragged black shapes of crows, eternally circling. Corbies, the legendary birds of ill omen; there was an element of the sinister in their hovering. What strange vigil, its reason lost in time, brought them there? What fascination lay in that domain far below, occupied by one old man and his multitude of cats?

Fighting weariness, for it had been a long day and hard walking underfoot on the packed snow, Faro decided to save a further journey by calling on Sir Hedley.

At first he thought the door was to remain unopened. When at last he heard the old man's heavy footfalls, he realised that the off-chance of Mabel Kellar's flight having taken her to this inhospitable dwelling was well beyond the bounds of credibility. Mrs Shaw had pointed out the disadvantages of Regent Crescent as a refuge, but her house represented a paradise of luxury compared to Solomon's Tower.

As within keys were turned and bolts withdrawn, the thought of stepping inside almost defeated Faro. He lingered on the doorstep. Only someone in the most desperate straits, a criminal fleeing from justice, might have run to earth, seeking shelter behind these grim grey walls. The interior smelt worse than ever and he was engulfed in a wave of cats, scampering, jumping, sliding, all in a wild rush for the fresh air, they leaped from all directions as if to escape from the dreadful odours within.

Sir Hedley's broad smile at discovering his visitor's identity revealed gums long beyond memory of teeth. "Come in, Inspector. Most welcome, most welcome. You'll take a dram."