Deadly Beloved (23 page)

Again Vince shrugged. "Mrs Flynn? Why, none at all. I doubt very much whether I'd know her again if I met her."

"You can do better than that, lad, after all I've taught you. What did she look like?"

Vince shrugged. "I don't know. Just like any other maid. I didn't pay particular attention to her appearance."

"Ah!"

Vince stared at him. "It's true. She made absolutely no impression. A middle-aged domestic. Let me think. Was her hair grey?"

"What could be seen under her cap — yes. Did you notice anything about her eyes, for instance?"

"You surely don't expect me to remember the colour of her eyes. Stepfather," Vince protested. "I'm bad at that, even for my nearest and dearest. Wait a moment, was she wearing spectacles?" He looked at Faro for affirmation.

"Good. Do you remember anything odd about her face?"

"Odd? Let me think. Oh yes, of course, she was all muffled up, swollen with toothache."

Faro smiled. "Good. You're more observant than you thought. You have described Mrs Flynn more or less exactly."

"That's a relief," said Vince sarcastically, thinking that this dinner party step by step was going to be almost as long and boring to recall as it had been in reality. "So we enter the house. We go upstairs and are ushered into the drawing-room, introduced to Mrs Shaw."

"Not so fast, lad. We are in the hall. Mrs Flynn apologises for the delay due to the lack of servants. Then Dr Kellar appears — "

"On the landing outside the drawing-room and rages at the housekeeper for keeping us waiting. He tells her to summon her mistress immediately."

"Splendid. So where was our hostess, anyway, and why wasn't she there to greet her guests?"

"That's easy. She was in the kitchen. Mrs Flynn said so and Mabel confirmed that later."

"Very well. We have Mrs Flynn answering the door and Mrs Kellar in the kitchen, helping the stricken housekeeper with some very indifferent cooking, out of the kindness of her heart, as there was no other servant in the house that night. In fact, we realised she had been hard at work until the last minute before dressing, for when she appeared at the dinner table there was still distressing evidence of pastry making on her hands and nails." He paused to let this information sink in.

"Hardly an auspicious beginning, was it? Chaos in the kitchen, a housekeeper with raging toothache and no other servant?"

Faro smiled and wagged an admonishing finger. "Ah yes, but a most auspicious overture for a planned murder. Keep that information by you, Vince. What could be better for our murderer's purpose than comings and goings of a very furtive nature without witnesses?"

Vince looked slightly dazed.

"We went upstairs and the drawing-room was occupied by Dr Kellar and Mrs Shaw, presenting the appearance of polite strangers who have no interest whatever in each other."

"Yes, it was odd, when you think about it, that Kellar made no attempt to introduce us. Rather rude, I thought."

"Well, we have the answer to that part of the mystery. The assembled company were meant to see antipathy between Mrs Shaw and Dr Kellar in the little charade put on for our benefit."

"Because they were lovers?"

"Had been lovers, Vince. But Kellar wasn't aware then that Mrs Shaw planned to reject him."

"That accounts, I suppose, for her own rather distraught manner."

"Indeed it does. She was wondering how to break the news and, more important, what his reaction would be.

However, they weren't the only ones with a charade to present that evening. You were sitting next to Mrs Shaw and Mabel."

Vince gave him an impish look. "And the only time I saw a spark of animation was when she was chatting to you or playing the piano."

"Ah, the entertainment. We mustn't forget that. Mrs Shaw's excellent playing and Mrs Kellar's long monologue."

"I'd heard it before. I thought she was particularly good at all those changes of voice."

"An excellent mimic."

Vince looked hard at him. "I didn't think you shared my enthusiasm. I'm afraid you were looking very bored and so was Mrs Shaw who seemed as embarrassed by her friend's performance as she was by her fulsome affection. We know why, now."

"Bad enough being in the same room with Kellar, dining at the same table with his wife, the dearest friend she had also betrayed. But let us leave Mrs Shaw now."

"Poor Mabel," said Vince."I keep thinking how dreadful the realisation must have been for her, how shattering. If she'd had the least idea, I'm sure she would never have given Mrs Shaw houseroom."

"I think she knew at Christmas."

"Then when she wrote to her sister, why didn't she say so in as many words?"

"Ah, that letter, Vince. Revealing all, which was precisely what it was meant to do."

Vince frowned. "But even the most forgiving of women . . . Her behaviour doesn't make sense."

"Oh yes, it does. Very good sense indeed. Think of the contents of that letter, Vince, and what they implied."

"I am thinking."

"Let's return to our charade of a dinner party. What else could Mabel Kellar do in the circumstances? Kellar has told her that Mrs Shaw is his mistress, she has borne him a child and he has set her up in a house in the New Town. What was to be gained by admitting that she knew? Divorce, or a scandal, would not bring her erring husband back to her. By ruining his chance of a knighthood, she also had a lot to lose, her social standing in society, for instance."

"True enough, Stepfather. Many women endure such an existence. Even knowing that their husbands, respectable men holding high positions in society, are leading double lives with a mistress and often an illegitimate child, they are in a cleft stick. A respectable marriage bestows on a wife a desirable place in society and if her husband falls, then she falls with him.

"What must have made it worse, unbearable for Mabel, was the knowledge that she had been deliberately deprived of finding solace in the comfort of motherhood, and by her own husband."

"Exactly," said Faro triumphantly. "So now you tell me, who had the best motive for murder that evening?"

"Mabel, of course," laughed Vince. "If she'd been the murdering kind she'd have stuck the carving knife in Kellar. I've always said that."

"So you have, so you have."

But ignoring his stepfather's gratified expression, Vince continued, "Ironic, isn't it. Poor Mabel. No wonder they wanted to get rid of her. Her continued devotion to them both must have been a source of embarrassment. Mabel, so gentle and loving. But murder, such a terrible step to take."

"To many desperate people, murder is the last resort and only terrible if they are found out. Within the police we are fully aware that husbands constantly murder wives, and t'other way round in our community, mostly for gain of some kind. Although our suspicions are aroused, we can rarely raise enough evidence to prove that a crime has been omitted."

Vince nodded in agreement. "I know from conversations I've had with other doctors that they often had strong suspicions that poison has been administered. The discreet and effective way of certain death, although alas, slow and often very painful, it can be diagnosed as food poisoning, or drain fever. But doctors are often hesitant and dare not bring a case against some respectable citizen, for fear of putting their own reputations into jeopardy."

"Aye, and many a timorous spouse ill-treated by husband or wife would commit murder — they do so in their hearts every passing hour — if they knew they could get away with it. The one deterrent is the indisputable evidence in the shape of a dead body, that cannot be conveniently spirited away."

"Not in Kellar's case. Who had better facilities for disposing of a corpse than Melville Kellar? He had a hundred unknowing accessories all ready and willing to help him dispose of the body beneath eager dissecting scalpels at Surgeons Hall. No body, no murder. Dear God, it must have seemed so easy, so foolproof."

"Ah now, Vince, I see you're thinking along the same lines as the murderer. So let's leave the dinner party now and consider what happened next morning. You visited Mrs Kellar and found her packing in readiness for a short visit to her sister at North Berwick."

Vince nodded. "Her behaviour was certainly agitated but not more so than might be expected in a wife who had decided to run away from her husband and had a train to catch," he added wryly.

"And after you left, she was seen by Mrs Flynn leaving the house, having had an altercation with Dr Kellar who was to set her down at the railway station."

"We know she never reached North Berwick," said Vince.

"And the Doctor didn't hear for a week, until a letter from Mrs Findlay-Cupar was found on her desk. This apparently had not been handed to Kellar by Mrs Flynn. Quite normal behaviour in the circumstances. Mrs Flynn said she didn't recognise the writing and it was addressed to the mistress personally."

Faro smiled at Vince. "That was very convenient. All communication between housekeeper and master was limited to notes left on the hall table regarding menus. Our murderer made very good use of the fact that Dr Kellar hated servants and avoided them at all times," he added thoughtfully.

"And then the clues to Mrs Kellar's murder began to appear. Her bloodstained fur cloak and the carving knife, which was reported missing to me by the maid Ina. This evidence would have appeared much sooner, of course, had it not been for the weather and the fact that they lay undetected under a heavy snowfall for longer than was intended."

Vince thought for a moment. "But she couldn't have been murdered on the train. There would have been far too much blood, commotion. Trains at that time are full of folk going home for dinner. No, no. That wouldn't work at all."

"What is your theory then?"

"You know that perfectly well, Stepfather. It's the only logical solution. Kellar never put her on the train at all. He offered to drive her to her sister's, murdered her in the carriage — "

"Hence the bloodstained upholstery," Faro interrupted, "Reported to me by Ina, via Mrs Flynn, but conveniently obliterated — if it ever existed — before I arrived. Go on, so what happened to the body?"

"He carried her under cover of darkness to the mortuary, cut her into more convenient pieces for distribution among his students," Vince added with a shudder.

"You're quite wrong there. Think again,Vince.Why should Kellar take the carving knife with him and murder his wife in his own carriage. Why should he use a knife at all, when he could have strangled her without difficulty and then disposed of her body in the dissecting room? The bloodstained cloak and knife were accessories to murder that we were meant to find, so was Mabel's bloodstained petticoat stuffed up the bedroom chimney. Think about that, Vince."

"Presumably he put it there hoping it would burn."

"And then he got very angry and complained to the servants when it smouldered and filled the room with smoke. Is that logical behaviour? The chimneys had been swept recently, the sweep was recalled and discovered the petticoat, exactly as he was meant to. Why should Kellar, knowing what was in the chimney and in his bedroom because he had put it there, deliberately bring attention to his own guilt?"

"The behaviour of a very scared man."

"Or the deliberate action of a very clever murderer."

Vince frowned. "I agree. There is something wrong here. It doesn't add up to what we know of Kellar."

"Correct. The answer is that he was speaking the truth. He hadn't the least idea of what was causing his chimney to smoke. As you've pointed out, there are too many inconsistencies here and I think, once again, we have to go back to that train journey."

"That's it," said Vince triumphantly. "The maid with the parcel at Longniddry. Of course."

Faro pointed to the travelling bag. "There is the final clue, lad, to what happened. The secret of the locked cupboard, you might call it, in Mrs Flynn's kitchen."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Stepfather, but I'm suitably intrigued, although I doubt whether Mrs Flynn will be pleased."

"You needn't concern yourself any further about Mrs Flynn."

"But — "

"You have my assurances of one thing. We will never see Mrs Flynn again."

"You mean — that she has been murdered too?" said Vince in horrified tones.

They were interrupted by a tap on the door and McQuinn looked in.

"The doctors have left now."

"Very well. Come along, Vince."

The nurse barred their way to the ward. "You must wait. Dr Kellar already has a visitor. I've just shown her in."

Faro sprang to his feet. "Mrs Findlay-Cupar?"

"That is so."

"Dear God., let's hope we're in time. Come along, McQuinn."

And, pushing past the startled nurse, Faro ran along the corridor and threw open the door of the ward where Kellar lay.

The woman who stood looking down on the injured man turned to face them. A woman who looked like a very faded watercolour of Mrs Findlay-Cupar. Faro heard Vince's horrified gasp from behind him.