The Balmoral Incident (16 page)

Later the girls, Mabel and I were having lunch in the garden, enjoying the warm sunshine. As I gathered dishes together, I thought I saw Bobby Biggs. He was at the stable door, looking towards the cottage but standing back as if he didn’t want to be seen. I held up my hand, gave him a wave of acknowledgement, but he darted back into the shadows.

This familiarity obviously struck Mabel as odd and I said: ‘That was the stable boy Bobby who was friendly with Lily. I just wondered if he was waiting to see me. That he might have some news.’

Mabel gave me a bewildered look. ‘What kind of news?’

‘About Lily.’

‘You make very strange friends, Rose.’ And her shrug of indifference as we went into the kitchen left no desire to go into the details of our conversation.

The postman was due on his daily round from the castle. I saw him approaching and went to the door.

‘A moment, if you please, Andy.’ He came in, had a polite word with Mabel, who seemed at a complete loss to understand his accent, but nodded politely.

I picked up the letter I had written to Olivia, searched for a stamp, handed it to him and said to Mabel, ‘I’ll be back shortly.’

She pointed to Hector, the pony she now regarded as her own whose cart took her on her travels around the estate. He was happily nibbling at the hedgerow awaiting her instructions.

‘If you’re wanting a lift somewhere, we can take you wherever you want to go.’

She was always generous about that. I was grateful for the occasional offer of transport into Ballater but preferred my bicycle unless we needed emergency provisions.

I smiled and thanked her. ‘No need, I’m just going across to the stables.’

There was no sign of Bobby lingering about and Jock said: ‘You’ve just missed him. Left a couple of minutes ago.’

‘Did he say where he was going?’

Jock grinned. ‘No use asking me, miss. Bobby’s never the one to let his right hand know what his left hand is doing. Proper close, he is. He’s taken a horse, borrowed the one he used to ride. Said it was urgent, he had someone to see, but he’d be back promptly.’

If I hadn’t hesitated to deal with that letter for Olivia, I would have caught him. I had even heard a rider going past the window. It was infuriating.

Jock was looking over his shoulder as if he might be overheard by the rest of the lads. ‘Not allowed officially,’ but patting his britches pocket, he grinned, ‘made it worth my while, if you get my meaning. He’ll be back shortly and I’ll tell him you were looking for him, miss.’

‘Did he say why he’d come back? I thought he’d been fired,’ I added, remembering the threat and the ten quid.

Jock stared at me. ‘Ye ken more than I do. All he said was that he had to meet someone.’

And I guessed the reason. He had run out of money or just wanted more, a bit of blackmailing which fitted into his character. But it was annoying. Meanwhile it was obvious that Jock found my questions and my interest in Bobby intriguing, especially remembering his reputation with the ladies – bragging about being irresistible to ladies of all ages.

‘I’ll tell him you’re wanting to see him,’ Jock repeated and I was conscious of his eyes watching me with a very calculating look as I walked out of the stables.

I could hardly linger outside without more sniggering speculation once Jock told the lads about my visit. Mabel had departed with the pony cart and I decided to sit in the garden with my book, remaining vigilant for Bobby’s return. Nearby, Meg and her new friend Rowena were having a game where Thane was involved, his usual dignity suspended, chasing after a stick. He was becoming a very domesticated dog, I thought fondly, wondering how he would react to our return home with Jack and I often out and Meg at school all day.

Rowena was now a constant visitor. I expected all gypsies to look like, well, Egyptians as the name originated,
but Rowena was quite different, with red hair and green eyes. A very pretty ten-year-old but her education was no match for Meg who said in tones of awe: ‘Rowena has never read a real book, Mam. Never! Just think of that. But she loves fiddle music and knows lots and lots of songs. And she sees things.’

‘What sort of things?’

‘They call it second sight; all of them – the ladies that is – have it. They can find lost people.’

That was interesting. ‘What did she mean by lost, a long time ago or just lately?’

‘Oh, both. They can find babies taken from their mothers and bring them together again.’

It all sounded intriguing but very weird, especially looking at Rowena who seemed just a normal happy girl, and if Meg was in awe of her, then she returned the compliment. She seemed slightly in awe of us – the gringos.

It was good to see Meg so happy again, and enjoying the warm sun on my face, I relaxed and put the book aside. I must have dozed off, awakened by the sound of a horse trotting past on its way to the stables.

That would be Bobby returning. I sprang up and hurried across, trying to make it look if he was watching that it wasn’t urgent, that I was just passing by.

My excuses weren’t needed. Jock was patting the horse which had obviously been galloping, while the other lads gathered round. They looked scared.

Jock saw me and said: ‘The beast’s returned alone – just look at the state he’s in.’

‘Has he run away from Bobby?’

Jock shook his head. ‘Not likely miss, I think something else has happened. Got thrown off.’

‘Never Bobby,’ someone else said, ‘Great rider, even bareback. Never known him to be thrown.’

‘Well, there’s always a first time,’ Jock replied and as one of the lads took the horse and was rubbing it down, he seemed to realise what I was there for. ‘No doubt, he’ll be walking back at this moment, cursing the beast. He’ll get some teasing, that’s for sure.’

I said: ‘I hope he’s all right.’

‘Dinna ye worry, miss, He’ll be in a fine old temper after a long walk back, but I won’t forget to tell him that you’re waiting to see him.’

With that I left them, but I felt a sudden chill of unease. After all they had told me about Bobby and horses, I had a niggling feeling that if the horse returned without him then he must have been thrown and might have been hurt.

I hadn’t long to wait for an answer.

I’d hardly set foot in the kitchen when I heard the pony cart return. Mabel rushed in, her face white.

‘Oh Rose. I’ve just seen a young man, lying on the track beyond the wood. We nearly ran over him. I got down, took a look to see if I could help. He murmured something when I asked if he was hurt.’ Wringing her hands, she went on, ‘I couldn’t understand what he was trying to say, and didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t lift him into the cart, and bring him back here.’ She shook her head. ‘I know nothing about first aid or what to do with someone badly hurt. So I told him just to lie still and I’d go for help.’

Meg and Rowena had seen her arrive and as she was
obviously crying and distressed, they followed her into the kitchen.

I said, ‘Go across to the stable and tell Jock there’s a man lying injured, beyond the wood. I think it’s the lad whose horse came back without him. Tell them to bring a stretcher.’

As I rushed out to get my bicycle, Mabel said: ‘Shall I come? I know where he is …’

Listening to her directions I said: ‘You stay here,’ knowing she wouldn’t be much use. I had dealt with, nursed and bandaged a lot of badly injured men in my far-off days in Arizona. It was not an experience I expected to encounter on the royal estate.

It was Bobby Biggs. I was bending over him as minutes later Jock and the lads with cart and stretcher arrived. As I had feared, just one look, and I knew he was dead. His head at a queer angle told a grim tale. He had been thrown and his neck was broken.

As the lads gathered him up, Jock, shaking his head sadly, looked at my face. I was shocked and sad. It seemed such a waste of a young life. Jock said: ‘Dinna ye grieve, miss. He didna suffer. Not with that neck. Died immediately.’

Perhaps he was trying to spare my feelings and I didn’t contradict him by saying that he had still been alive when the lady who found him gave the alarm.

One of the lads had sent for Vince and he was already at the stables by the time our sad procession with Bobby’s body got there.

My presence wasn’t needed and in the cottage Mabel was sitting by the window. She had made a pot of tea and asked anxiously, ‘Is he all right?’

I shook my head. There was no need for any further explanation. She sighed deeply. ‘You were too late to save him. What a pity. Such a young man too.’

I needed that tea and I said: ‘Tell me again what happened?’

She repeated word for word how she had almost run over him, and got down to see if he had been injured.

‘The horse had thrown him, his neck was broken.’

She gave a shuddering sigh. ‘How awful!’

‘They said they thought he had died instantly. But he was still alive when you found him. Can you remember what he was trying to tell you?’

She looked at me blankly. ‘Just mumbled some words.’ And shaking her head, ‘I was upset not knowing how to help him, what to do.’ She paused, her hand trembling as she put down the cup. ‘You know I have problems understanding what people here are saying.’ Again she paused and then in a whisper she went on, ‘I think it was that someone had attacked him.’

I felt a sudden chill. If that was so and Mabel had heard correctly, then this was a second murder. While Lily’s body lay in a temporary grave awaiting further information regarding her parents, her killer had struck again. There was little doubt in my mind now after my visit to the stables and Jock’s information that Bobby had come to see someone urgently, that he had returned in the hope of extracting more money to keep his mouth shut and whoever he was blackmailing had killed him.

Vince called in on his way back from telling Bobby’s mother. As always these necessary interviews upset him considerably. He had never got used to breaking tragic news. ‘Fortunately, her older son and wife were having supper with her at the time. But she was in a terrible state and I got the impression when they tried to comfort her that Bobby, although adopted, mattered most. I got the impression that he and not her real son was the apple of her eye.’ He paused. ‘It always amazes me how much normally well-concealed family feelings can be revealed by a sudden tragedy in the blink of an eye.’

‘What will happen now?’

‘Oh, the usual information to the fiscal, that sort of thing. But in the case of accidents on the estate, it’s just a matter of course.’

‘Is it now?’ I asked. ‘Are you sure this was an accident?’

He looked at me and groaned. ‘Oh, there you are, off again, Rose. If every fatality in a great mass of servants and estate workers and tenants was to be regarded as murder, we’d need a resident police force.’

‘Such as Inspector Gray,’ I said slowly.

He ignored that. ‘The lad’s death was the kind that is not unknown, and certainly without any suspicious circumstances. His horse threw him, broke his neck.’

‘Mabel said he was still alive when she found him, muttered something about an attacker.’

Vince looked at me. ‘Is that so? I would have said that death was instantaneous.’

‘He had been fired,’ I said patiently and I repeated what Jock had said. ‘He was here to see someone urgently. And that sounds to me like suspicious circumstances,
namely to blackmail whoever sent him packing into parting with more money to keep his mouth shut.’

‘For heaven’s sake, Rose. We’ve been over all this ground before.’

‘No, we haven’t, Vince. It must have been someone on the estate and that was why he borrowed the horse for half an hour.’

Meg and Rowena came downstairs. They had been playing in Meg’s room and Vince said, ‘You still here, Rowena? You should have been back ages ago.’

An apologetic shrug from Rowena. ‘We were having a fine game, Dr Laurie.’

Vince said: ‘Never mind that. It’s late and your mother worries about you, so come along with me.’

And as they left I could not help thinking this was the perfect excuse for cutting short our conversation.

Meg and I took Thane for our usual evening stroll. We did a circuitous path as I wanted to avoid the wood where half a mile away Bobby had died.

Meg was asking if Rowena could come and stay overnight and I said yes, if her mother would allow her.

She sighed. ‘Her mother isn’t like you, Mam. She makes such a fuss about everything. Anyone would think Rowena was made of glass, or just stupid!’

Back at the cottage, I hoped to talk to Mabel but she had retired to her room with her book. My questions would have to wait until tomorrow. I saw Meg off to bed and came downstairs, thinking of poor Mrs Biggs and of Rowena’s mother. The devotion parents can bestow like shackles on children who yearn to be free.

I did not sleep well that night. The window had no
shutters, and although the curtains were pretty they were no match for the moonlight which streamed in like a forbidden searcher, lighting every corner and keeping me wide awake, my thoughts going round and round, back and forth, over and over the day’s events.

At breakfast next morning, Mabel seemed to have recovered from the shock of her discovery. In fact when I mentioned Bobby Biggs she blinked as if she had never heard of him.

‘It just occurred to me last night, Mabel, after you had gone to bed, can you remember if you met anyone when you were out in the pony cart before you, er—found the young man.’

She thought for a moment. ‘Well, I did see someone, one of the ghillies, I suppose, about ten minutes earlier. But I thought nothing of that, they are always around the wood. Why do you ask?’

‘I just wondered, that’s all, if he might have some information.’

‘What kind of information, Rose?’

‘Oh, just if he saw the horse bolting. That sort of thing,’ I lied.

Mabel nodded and I asked: ‘What did this man look like?’

She frowned. ‘I didn’t see him up close. But he was youngish, tall with dark hair.’

She didn’t need to say any more, or I to ask any more questions. That cold chill went through me again.

The description matched perfectly: Mr Saemus Brown or whatever was his real name.