Murder by Appointment: Inspector Faro No.10 (19 page)

Mrs Brook met him at the door. You've just missed Charlie—I mean, Constable Thomas, sir. He had a message for you.

'What was it, Mrs Brook?'

She shook her head. 'He said it was important and he would
leave it at the Central Office.'

There was no message from Thomas, but the constable at the desk said, 'He rushed out in a great hurry. Said he was going to Leith.'

The word Leith conjured up McQuinn's contact. Constable Thomas was sharp and efficient. Had he stumbled on something vital concerning the secret organization?

In the hope that he might meet the constable
en route
, Faro headed towards Hailes Wynd, a dingy-looking close adjacent
to Weighman's Close on the opposite side of the road to Mrs Carling's establishment.

There was no sign of Thomas and Faro walked with caution into the dim and solitary depths of the narrow alleyway where
he had some difficulty locating the jewellery repair shop. If that were possible, it looked even more decrepit than its counterpart in Stirling.

Faro stared through the barred window at a few tired-looking dust-covered watches, clocks and trinkets long since forsaken by their owners.

The jeweller was clearly not at home and Faro slipped
under the door the message for McQuinn with even less hope
that it would ever reach him.

Back at his desk, with a refreshing lack of homicides and sudden death, he faced the sordid and tedious routine of robberies with violence and lesser crimes. He was sorting through the documents left for him, trying to find what was most interesting, when Superintendent Mcintosh looked around the door.

'Wondered what happened to you, Faro. Heard you'd gone back to Stirling in connection with this Irish terrorist who committed suicide.'

'That is so, sir. Anything to do with Fenians is something we must keep to the forefront of our minds,' said Faro, looking appropriately stern.

'And what did you find?'

'Nothing vital, sir, that need concern us.'

Mcintosh stared at him suspiciously, aware somehow that he was not being told the whole truth. Then with a shrug he
murmured, 'Fenians, eh? Good fellow. Keep at it,' and withdrew.

Faro wondered how his superior would have reacted to the information that Detective Sergeant McQuinn, late of the
Edinburgh City Police, was now part of a counterspy service.
Edinburgh and Stirling were no doubt only two of the links in
the chain, but the fact that such an organization existed outwith the knowledge of Superintendent Mcintosh, who imagined that he knew everything and was in everyone's
confidence, would fill that gentleman with a sense of outrage.

Returning to his documents with a weary sigh, Faro was interrupted by a knock on the door. This time it was Constable Lamont, Thomas's partner on the Newington beat.

'I'm looking for Charlie—Constable Thomas that is, sir.'

'Why should you expect to see him here?'

'He had an urgent message for you.'

'So I understand.'

Lamont nodded. 'Wouldn't trust it to anyone, not even myself, sir, and that's unusual for Charlie. Tells me everything generally. All he'd say was in strictest confidence that
this is something the chief should know about. Quite excited,
he was. Never seen him so pleased and he insisted that he had something to tell you. I gathered it was a message or suchlike
he wanted to deliver personally. "I just want to see his face." Those were his very words, sir.'

Lamont looked anxious and Faro said, 'He came to the house today while I was absent. I didn't attach a great deal of
importance to his visit.' He smiled and added, 'I gather he did
that quite a lot.'

Lamont grinned. 'He's very seriously courting, sir, as you
probably know. Looks like Mrs Brook will be losing her little
maid.' The constable shook his head. 'But this was really
urgent, sir. As I said, he was in quite a state. "This is what the
chiefs looking for. And I think I've cracked the case for him.
You'll hear about it in due course. But I have to know for sure
first." And without another word, he was off again.'

Lamont shook his head. 'I haven't seen him since. That was two days ago. I don't want to report it, sir, as you know I'm supposed to, when the constable I share the heat with fails to turn up for duty.'

He looked at Faro.
^r
What shall I do, sir? I don't want to get him into trouble.'

Faro frowned. Thomas was ambitious, clever. The last constable not to turn up for duty without a very good reason. He came to a sudden decision.

'Report it. Lamont. Say that P.C. Thomas is on special duty concerning an inquiry for Chief Inspector Faro. Get them to give you a temporary replacement. I'll take full responsibility.'

But the constable's absence disturbed him. The only case Thomas and he had been involved in that 'could be cracked' remained the McNair murders.

When he returned home that evening, he found Mrs Brook alone in the kitchen. Asked if Constable Thomas had called, she shook her head.

'No, indeed, sir. Haven't seen hair nor hide of him since he left the message for you.' Suddenly she stood up straight and
said, 'I might as well tell you, sir, that I'm not at all pleased the
way things are going. That young man is never out of my
kitchen, not that I object to him personally, he's nice enough in his way, but he keeps distracting May who isn't the most
efficient of maids, you will gather. I don't feel that my kitchen
is my own, any more, with the two of them cuddling and kissing whenever my back is turned. Frankly, sir, I'll be glad when they get married.'

Faro's eyes widened. This was the longest speech he had ever heard Mrs Brook make and obviously one she had been considering for some time.

He smiled. 'You've always had a great ordeal putting up
with us and we are most grateful, especially with our uncertain
hours, and your excellent cooking so often ruined.'

But Mrs Brook wasn't yet finished.

'I know that, sir, but I never minded. You were my two very special gentlemen—and I could rely on you in so many ways.'
She shook her head. 'This isn't like what it was in the old days, the household running smooth as silk, upstairs and downstairs too. I've always managed fine on my own.'

She sighed. 'Young maids are nothing but trouble sir, if you ask me. I was always told they were the bane of a housekeeper's life and now I know that for the truth.'

And, having completed her speech, Mrs Brook turned towards the oven, looked inside and said, 'You'll be wanting your supper, sir. I'll bring it up to your study directly, Dr Vince and Mrs Laurie had theirs before leaving for the theatre.'

Faro went upstairs. His fears were being realized that two separate households were needed and that it had been a mistake to let Olivia and Vince persuade him to stay in Sheridan Place after their marriage.

Life would be further complicated for poor Mrs Brook
when the new baby arrived. There would have to be a nanny and a housemaid to do the extra washing. He could not see the housekeeper coping with that kind of disorganization in her domain.

But the problems of domesticity were temporarily dismissed
as he opened the daily
Scotsman
where his attention was immediately drawn to a paragraph headed: 'Success for Fa
mous Scottish Pianist'. Lachlan Brown's First Piano Concerto
had been given its debut in London... Royalty had been present... It ended, 'Anyone fortunate enough to hear this tremendous work could be left in no doubt of Mr Brown's future as a composer.'

Faro's thoughts as to how this success might also influence
his daughter's future relationship with Lachlan were dismissed
by the insistent ringing of the front doorbell.

Voices were raised in the hall and he ran downstairs to see the police carriage outside his door.

Constable Lamont leaped out and rushed up the steps.

'It's Charlie Thomas, sir. He's in Leith. Been stabbed. He's asking for you. Come quickly, sir. He's dying.'

As the police carriage raced towards the scene of Constable Thomas's attack. Faro felt numbed by this totally unexpected development.

Casualties among policemen were not unusual, there were
hazards in plenty, his own father had been a victim. Many had
died in accidents and fights during his thirty years' service with the City Police. Some were young men at the beginning of promising careers but few he had encountered were like Thomas, born policemen. Thomas, Faro was certain, by dint of hard work and high intelligence would have risen very soon to the rank of sergeant-detective and ultimately to that of inspector.

And now his short life was at an end. He knelt by his side and took hold of his cold hands.

'Such a waste, such a terrible waste,' he said, his eyes filled
with tears.

The elderly constable who had discovered Thomas cleared his throat and said, 'He died just minutes ago, sir. He asked for you, trying to ask you something or other.' He sighed heavily. 'He was a good man, sir, he didn't deserve this.'

As they put Thomas into the carriage Faro was aware of Lamont sobbing, wiping his eyes with a large handkerchief.

'He was my friend sir. My friend' he said. 'I'll kill the bastard who did this—if it's the very last thing I do.'

'We'll find him, Lamont, we'll find him.'

Trying to calm the young constable helped Faro deal with
his own grief. He was aware that the stabbing had taken place
just yards away from the boarding house, where they had gone together to interview Mrs Carling who now gazed cautiously over a neighbour's shoulder. Her son Andy was nowhere in evidence.

This wasn't Thomas's beat. He had no right to be in this area unless he was on official business. Staring hard in the woman's direction, he wondered did that business concern the Carlings and their possible connection with the McNair murders?

('I think I've cracked the case for the chief.')

Thomas's excitement and Lamont's reported words came back to him. Messages left at Sheridan Place and the Central Office could only concern the McNairs, the case they had worked on together and the only reason for Thomas being so far away from Newington.

Faro would no doubt find out once the constable's killer was caught. Meanwhile there were the practical matters concerning sudden death to be dealt with.

'Had he any family?' he asked Lamont.

'Yes, sir. His mother lives in Crail.' Lamont's surprised look indicated that he expected Faro to know that.

Faro was guiltily aware how little he knew of Constable Thomas. He had just learned that his first name was Charlie. For all the young man's reliability and worth, Faro realized that he had never made the effort to know him better. He had no curiosity regarding his private life beyond an amused tolerance that the constable was courting the maid in his own household.

This situation was by no means unique. It had characterized
his entire association with Danny McQuinn, despite years of working together. On more than one occasion McQuinn's prompt action had saved Faro's life, but all he knew of him was that he came from Ireland and had been brought up in the Catholic orphanage of an Edinburgh convent.

Rose had added information regarding McQuinn's relatives in the United States but not until their unexpected meeting in
Stirling had he learned the significant facts of McQuinn's upbringing.