The Balmoral Incident (9 page)

A meeting was speedily arranged; Olivia worked that way. Alice was to come to tea. At first glance, she was pretty and elegant, but not much past forty, already somehow withered. Sadness shone out of her like a beacon.

After a quick introduction, in the carriage that had set Alice down at the cottage, Olivia gathered up the two girls for a visit to Ballater.

‘Shopping,’ she said apologetically. ‘Things to take home, you know.’

I was alone with my guest and decided to call on Lily to make tea since Mabel wasn’t in evidence. We saw little of her, upstairs in her room or away each day in the pony trap following the progress of the shooting. Although only ladies specially invited were welcome to join the King’s party, Mabel’s father, she told us, was a keen sportsman and as he had no son, decided to bring up his
only daughter with an heir’s accomplishments. One being that she was a crack shot with a rifle and this holiday provided the somewhat wistful enjoyment and excitement of watching the shooting from a safe distance.

This new preoccupation had completely obliterated her obsession about the Pankhursts. Perhaps their failed visit to Aberdeen was at fault and she felt let down and dear Emmeline and Christabel were hardly mentioned any more.

Excusing myself, I went up to the attic, but Lily’s room was empty, her basket of sewing abandoned. She probably took full advantage of her mistress’s absence to visit the stables and I for one did not blame her.

Alice was sitting by the window exactly as I had left her. Thane had introduced himself and she was stroking his head. We exchanged some remarks about the weather as I prepared tea. We could hear the guns far off, the sight of an occasional bird that had escaped.

Alice said grimly, ‘I find it a rather horrid sport, I’m afraid. My maternal grandfather was a clergyman’ (I later learnt he was an archbishop) ‘and I was brought up to respect the lives of all living creatures.’

‘Thane would agree with you.’

She gave him a tender glance. ‘He’s a lovely dog. You are lucky. All we have are huge gun dogs at home. They have to be useful, not meant for a lady’s lap.’

‘Shooting is a man’s thing, the sport of kings.’

‘And decidedly so with Edward. His father set the pattern.’

Edward? Oh, she was talking about HM.

She ignored the scones and Dundee cake, and merely
took a few sips of tea, pushing the cup aside. Leaning forward, she said: ‘It is so good of you to see me at short notice like this, Mrs—? I beg your pardon, I don’t know your name.’

‘Just call me Rose,’ I said hastily. I had no idea how to address German aristocracy. I was hoping she would enlighten me.

Alice nodded. ‘There is no one else I can talk to except Olivia. She is so very understanding and has my confidence. She thought you might be able to help.’ A deep sigh. ‘I am utterly distraught. You see, my husband is taking my children away from me and I don’t know how to stop him.’

Neither did I. Husbands still had absolute rule over their children’s custody in a separation, a law that would continue until it was changed and women had the vote and some say in parental rights.

Feeling gloomily that this promised to be a difficult session of only negative advice, I poured another cup of tea. She gestured refusal.

‘Would you care to start at the beginning?’ I said gently.

She sighed, removed her bonnet, a shower of blonde curls in much better order than my own unruly locks. That was all we had in common. She had an inch on me in height and maybe a few in years.

‘As Olivia may have told you—’

I held up my hand. ‘Olivia has told me nothing of you or your circumstances, believe me. She is expert at keeping confidences.’

Alice sighed. ‘I was forced into marriage by my father, who was an ambassador to Germany. Hermann had seen
me at a reception where I was accompanying my father. I was aware of his interest, watching me, he was attracted although I decidedly was not. At that time I had other plans, and besides he was nearer my father’s age than mine.

‘I dreaded what was to happen next. He asked for my hand in marriage and I did not dare disobey. I was afraid of my father, a man of formidable will with a temper to match it. He threatened to lock me in my room until I agreed.’

It wasn’t a story completely unknown, where rich and powerful men ruled their daughter’s destinies, girls put up for sale in the marriage market to the highest bidder.

‘I knew it was useless to refuse so I decided to make the best of it, assured of the good life and benefits awaiting at the German court, for Hermann was not only a relative of the Kaiser but also a close friend.’

She sighed. ‘I told myself that I was fortunate. I had always hoped to marry while I was young and I wanted children. Apart from the lack of the grand passion, Munich was full of exciting events and the ancient schloss was beautiful. I would adore adding a woman’s touch and I must confess I was more in love with my surroundings than my husband, although I had little to complain about then. He was always generous.’

She paused. ‘However, I had not long been married when I discovered that he intended cutting me off from my home in England as soon as possible and from all things English. I had learnt German and he would not allow me to speak English, nor our children – they would be punished if he overheard them speaking that hated language. As
the years passed I realised it was a kind of madness. The Kaiser had been very fond of his grandmother Queen Victoria and even rushed to her bedside when she was dying. When Edward came to the throne in 1901 it got worse. Hermann maintained that his way of life as Prince of Wales made him unfit to ever be a good king and he, as well as many other Germans, believed that the Kaiser had an equal claim to the English throne and that Victoria should have named him as her heir instead of Edward.’

This was certainly a new version of the history of Victoria’s numerous descendants who occupied the thrones of Europe, as Alice watched my expression and continued, ‘It sounded mad, I was quite aware that this was an insane idea, but there was no reasoning with him and he began to include me in his hatred of all things English, and I suffered from that. Worse, he turned the children against me and made them hate England too.’

Tearful, she paused and shook her head. ‘He succeeded with my beloved Dietrich, our only son, ten years old when he sent him away from home – from his mother’s malign influence, he said – to be educated at a military college. They will turn him into a soldier to prepare him to fight the English when the time comes.’

I knew I was listening to a sad story but also that there was nothing I could do except put on the kettle again, deciding that she must be thirsty.

Thane sat up sharply. I thought I heard a noise. Mabel or Lily must have returned – at the worst possible moment.

I opened the door but the hallway was empty. Alice was ready for the next instalment and there was worse to come.

‘A small boy taken from his mother’s love and caring, but that was not enough for Hermann. He has also removed our two young daughters, sent them to be educated by a governess with the children of his mistress.’

She must have seen my look of surprise, and smiled bitterly. ‘Oh, I wasn’t shocked. I learnt early in our marriage that it was the done thing for a married man of high standing to have a mistress – at least one.’ She paused, took out a handkerchief and applied it to her eyes.

It was my turn to speak, to offer words of reassurance. Did I know of anything, or of someone in Scotland who could help her, especially as she was still a British citizen, to prevail upon her husband and let her have her children restored to her?

I expressed my sympathy, she certainly needed all of that, but I told her there was nothing I could do and doubted whether any Scottish law could help her or any other. Laws had been made by men since civilisation began and they had seen to it that they were biased in their favour.

I tried to add tactfully that this sad situation was out of my field of activity as an investigator. However unjust it seemed, a husband’s rights over his wife’s property included all rights over their children and there was no law to forbid a father from poisoning his children’s minds against their mother, sending their young son to military college and their daughters to be educated with his mistress’s governess.

Alice was tearful; she clenched her hands in a gesture of hopelessness. ‘Thank you for listening and for wasting your time. I just had to talk to someone and you were
my last, my only hope. The Queen has been very understanding, she knows all about difficult husbands.’ She leant forward confidentially, ‘Edward has a mistress, you know.’

I did know – and more than one – as she went on: ‘You have been very understanding too,’ and when I apologised once again for being unable to help or indeed, offer any useful advice, she shook her head, ‘It has helped, just to unburden myself. Hermann can forgive Scotland, his hatred belongs to England. Balmoral is exempt; he is here for the shooting. I must stay but God knows what will happen when we get home.’

I wanted to hear more but our interview was cut short by a distraught Meg who burst in on us. I had not heard the motor, besides they could hardly have reached Ballater yet.

Alice stood up. ‘I must go.’

She cut short my apology to her and my suitable reprimand to Meg. ‘Perhaps we can meet again later?’ The anxiety in her voice made that urgent and imperative.

‘What happened? I demanded. ‘Did the motor break down?’

‘No, we never got there. Faith was sick in the car, she’s gone back to the castle with Aunt Livvy—’

Meg’s tears were in full flood. I put my arms around her. ‘No need to get upset, dear. Uncle Vince will soon make her better.’

She pulled away from me. ‘I’m not worried at Faith being sick – it’s … it’s because she’ll be going back to London – leaving us.’

She made it sound like the end of the world as I suppose it was, to her, for there followed a vast number of suggestions why she and Faith should not be separated, none in the least feasible or credible.

No, Faith could not stay here with us without her mother. No, her father was much too busy to look after her.

‘Then can she come to Edinburgh and live with us?’ Meg pleaded. ‘I’ve told her all about our Solomon’s Tower, and she says she would love to come.’

‘And well she may, dear – to visit us,’ I added sharply. ‘She knows she will be very welcome to come for a holiday any time.’

Meg bit her lip. ‘I don’t mean that, Mam. I mean to stay – for always,’ she added impatiently.

‘No, dear. She cannot do that. She is still a little girl—’

‘She will be eleven next year!’

I ignored the interruption. ‘Until she is older she needs to be with her father and mother – they would miss her dreadfully, think how you would—’

‘No, they won’t,’ she interrupted. ‘They’re sending her to boarding school.’

‘That is not quite the same thing,’ I said wearily.

But Meg refused to be placated. The demerits of boarding school came into it somewhere and so it went on and on between us, Meg putting forth ideas, trying to wheedle some sort of wild agreement. Finally, because I was tired and irritable and still feeling the effects of my nightmare hours in the dark forest, I lost my temper with her.

‘Do stop talking nonsense, Meg. Please be sensible about this and stop making silly suggestions. Faith must – like you – stay with her parents in her own home.’

‘I don’t think my suggestions were silly, Mam. Faith is my cousin, the only close kin I will ever have unless you and Pa are ever going to give me a brother or sister. I keep on hoping every day.’ She paused and gave me a hard look; waiting for the explanation I could not give her that
her hopes were in vain. She sighed. ‘I have got the nuns praying for one—’

That smote me to the heart, as did her tear-filled eyes as she ended: ‘It’s not like you, Mam. You’re not like this, usually we can talk together, tell each other everything. When I tell you things that bother me, you always know what to do. I can rely on you for everything.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘Not this time, though this is the most important thing that has ever happened to me. I want my cousin, the only relation I will ever have,’ she repeated heavily, ‘to live with us.’

And taking Thane, out she went, her back straight, cold and defiant. And left me feeling that I had let her down and for the first time ever we had come near to quarrelling.

But that wasn’t the end of my miseries. Worse was in store.

We had another visit from Aiken and at the sight of him coming up the path the next morning my heart sank. Was this more bad news for Thane, for bad news seemed certain by his grim expression.

‘Thought I should tell you, madam, there’s been another tragedy.’ He sighed deeply. ‘The Dee has claimed another victim.’

I wondered what he was talking about.

‘Poor young lass drowned. Found by one of the ghillies walking his dog this morning.’ He shook his head and sighed again. ‘They’re making enquiries. Been a bit bashed about, poor craiter, river’s rough there, boulders, ye ken. Och well, we were all expecting it,’ he added glumly.

‘After yon wee lad drowned the very day you arrived.
We all ken that the Dee claims three a year.’ And pointing in the general direction of Crathie Church: ‘It’s there written down in the parish records, generations back, and aye, in the kirkyard for all to see their graves.’

At my look of surprise, he said patiently, ‘The Dee tends to ferocious flooding after the snow melts on the Cairngorms or at this particular time of the year after long spells of rain. Folk hold their breaths waiting for the worst to happen. “Blood-thirsty Dee Each year needs three, But Bonny Don, She needs none”.’

As an epilogue to this grim piece of folklore, he went on, ‘Aye, that great flood back in ’29 is well remembered for its ravages. The Queen herself had to be reminded of the Dee’s menace when one of the local lairds lost a bairn. Spares nobody,’ he added glumly, ‘high or low.’

I needed no reminder of how we had seen from the windows the sad procession carrying a drowned lad from the river. The memory still chilled me. An omen somehow that all was not going to be the happy carefree holiday we expected. And a sudden grim thought, a reminder that had I pressed on through that dark forest where I heard its enticing gurgling waters, I might well have been its third victim.

I was soon to find out that my intuitive feeling of disaster had just begun.

Vince arrived back with Olivia and Faith who stayed outside with Meg, whispering to her volubly and darting angry looks in my direction.

Faith seemed none the worse for her sickness and Vince shrugged off my concern.

Olivia said: ‘A pity, but it sometimes happens. Just
going over these rough roads in the motor, I expect.’

However, one look at Vince’s face as he silently led us into the kitchen and closed the door signalled some catastrophe.

‘You had a visit from Aiken, telling you that a girl has been drowned.’ I said how awful and he went on: ‘I was called in. Nothing I could do. She’d been in the water for about two days.’

Olivia said, ‘Such a dreadful tragedy. Have her parents been notified?’

Vince said nothing; he was looking at Mabel who had just come downstairs. ‘Where is Lily just now?’

‘Upstairs in her room, I expect. Is she needed?’ Mabel sounded slightly disapproving as he said: ‘Ask her to come down for a minute, if you please?’

‘Why do you want her?’ But before Vince could reply there was an interruption as Meg rushed in demanding glasses of lemonade. Playing on the swing had made Faith thirsty and yes, they were both hungry, as usual.

Olivia attended to this and Vince continued to regard Mabel who had not answered his question. ‘Please, Mabel.’

She sighed and rose from her chair as if this request required too much effort.

Meg had sat down at the table and with Faith prepared to do full justice to a plate of scones as she chattered excitedly about a hedgehog with five little babies they had found beneath their incomplete tree house – likely to remain that way now, but our recent disagreement over her plans for Faith’s future were momentarily laid aside.

Vince interrupted. Still watching Mabel, he touched
Meg’s shoulder. ‘Do something for Miss Penby, please dear. Save her legs and run upstairs. Ask Lily to come down.’

‘Of course, Uncle Vince.’

Mabel resumed her seat, murmured: ‘Much obliged.’

We were silent, what did Vince want with Lily? I hadn’t seen her all day but that was not unusual. She was removed from us as much as possible, Mabel reminding us that Lily was her personal maid and that she was not to consider that she was here to run errands and make cups of tea for the rest of us. She had duties to perform each day and Mabel saw that she was kept fully employed.

And Lily certainly made herself unobtrusive. A silent creature, she made no noise as she moved, flitting in and out of the cottage, so pale she looked bloodless, a large humanised moth.

We heard Meg run upstairs to the attic, the opening and closing of a door and a minute later she was back with us, alone. She looked at Mabel apologetically. ‘She isn’t in her room, Miss Penby, it is quite empty.’

Vince looked enquiringly at Mabel who shrugged. ‘Thank you, Meg.’

‘Can we go out again, Mamma?’ said Faith. ‘We are playing a fine game.’

At Olivia’s nod of assent the girls rushed out. Mabel sighed deeply. ‘She must have gone for a walk, for a little fresh air as she calls it. And of course,’ she added heavily, ‘did not think it necessary to ask my permission or even inform me of her intentions, which no doubt takes her in the direction of the stable boys. Her behaviour grows daily more intolerable. Impossible ever since we got here.
Seems to have got the idea that she is on holiday too—’

Vince cut short the tirade, said gently: ‘May I ask you, Mabel, when did you last see her?’

Mabel shrugged, an irritated gesture, and he said quickly: ‘Today?’

She frowned. ‘No. That is precisely what I am telling you about—’

‘Yesterday?’ Vince put in.

Ignoring the question, Mabel said crossly: ‘Oh, she comes and goes these days, seems to have forgotten I pay her wages. She does as she likes. I do make allowances, I do not want to be a stern employer but she had better smarten up when we get home or I will be looking for another personal maid.’

Vince leant across, touched her hand. ‘I’m afraid you will have to do just that, Mabel.’

She looked confused, angry as if ready to say that it was no business of his. ‘Indeed?’ she said coldly.

Vince sighed. ‘Yes, indeed. I’m sorry to have to inform you that we believe the girl who drowned is Lily.’

A horrified exclamation from Olivia. Mabel put her hand to her mouth, gave a sharp scream. ‘Oh, the silly creature, did she go and fall into the river?’

‘We don’t know the details,’ Vince said slowly.

‘Are you sure it is her, then?’ she asked.

‘She has been in the river for at least twenty-four hours. There are obstacles: rocks, dashing turbulent waters. I will spare you the details, but when I was called in to examine the body, I recognised her.’ He paused, bit his lip. ‘I am afraid this is not very pleasant for you, Mabel, but she has to be officially identified.’

‘I thought you said you recognised her,’ Mabel said coldly, aware I thought of what was to come when Vince said:

‘That is true, but the identification must be made by you as her employer, for the fiscal’s records and so that her family can be informed.’

‘I don’t see the necessity,’ Mabel protested. ‘Surely identification by a doctor such as yourself is sufficient?’

Vince shook his head. ‘Not for legal purposes, I’m afraid. That is your responsibility.’

This statement put Mabel into a wearisome argument with him until I intervened and said that I would go with her. She seemed surprised and grateful for this offer.

I did not add that I had looked at many dead bodies in my life. Before those cases in my Edinburgh logbooks, during my ten pioneering years in Arizona, there were Apache raiders in Arizona, scalped soldiers and massacred women and children. A drowned girl would not have any terrors or qualms for me.