The Evil That Men Do.(Inspector Faro Mystery No.11) (3 page)

Chapter Three

‘I’m notifying the Procurator Fiscal,’ said Vince, ‘there will have to be a postmortem. You can imagine all the trouble that is going to get me into, hinting that my future father-in-law’s death was not due to natural causes.’

If this was to be a murder enquiry, which Faro also dreaded, for inevitably the investigation would land on his desk, then he had better save time by getting certain facts in the right order.

‘You said Theodore was standing at your elbow. Surely you mean Adrian?’

‘No. Adrian was away at Musselburgh at the crack of dawn. He’s practising for a club championship, and of course that—’

‘Wait a moment. You said, at the crack of dawn. Hold on, lad. Let’s get back to the beginning. When did Cedric die?’

‘During the night. They stayed at Priorsfield, as you know.’

‘Was that unusual?’

‘Not at all. They frequently do so after a dinner party.’

And so Maud made the unfortunate discovery this morning, after Adrian had left for the golf course. How very distressing for her.’

‘No, no. Early morning ritual is that the maid leaves trays outside the bedroom doors at seven o’clock and Maud noticed Cedric’s was still there on her way down to breakfast at nine—’

‘Wait a moment. Are you implying that Maud was not sleeping with Cedric that night?’

‘Exactly. She was sharing with Grace. You see, Grace refuses to sleep alone at Priorsfield. When she was a little girl she had, well, rather a scaring experience.’

Vince seemed reluctant to continue and Faro prompted him:

‘What happened?’

‘She - thought - she saw a ghost. It wasn’t just a dream because it happened more than once,’ he added hastily. ‘Everyone knows that small children often fancy they see things. I know it sounds ridiculous—’

‘Not to me, it doesn’t.’

Vince smiled. ‘Of course, you’re sympathetic, aren’t you. Well, this will interest you. She always described his white bagwig and old-fashioned knee breeches - and how he walked straight through the wall.’

‘And who was this spectre supposed to be? Any ideas?’

‘From his dress, I should say the French officer who came to deliver the gold to Prince Charlie while he was preparing for the Battle of Prestonpans. The gold that might have changed the face of Scottish history.’

‘One of many similar legends, I should say, of gold hidden and lost for ever.’

‘Rather different in this case. The French count’s ship came too late, pursued by ill luck, an English frigate, and then a storm. He arrived in Leith after Charles Edward had departed. Then rumour takes over. The alehouse keeper at their rendezvous, the original Langweil, if truth be told, got rid of him as he slept. Poisoned him and when things went against the Jacobites used the gold to bribe himself into Butcher Cumberland’s favour.’

‘I don’t think people give much credence to such rumours. But the whole thing was revived, Cedric told me, much to his family’s distress when a skeleton was dug up in the grounds during the last century with a knife blade between its ribs.’

‘Probably one of the Prince’s gallant soldiers who had fallen foul of a drinking companion. People have very romantic imaginations, especially when it comes to historical misdeeds. No doubt Cedric had told Grace the story when she was quite small and she had dreamed the rest.’

‘I agree. I think that is most likely the reason. Anyway it made quite an impression on her. Now she insists that her mother share her room.’ Vince looked at Faro. ‘You know, I was quite surprised when she told me she thought Priorsfield was haunted. Especially as Grace is such a sensible, practical sort of girl.’ He sighed. ‘How did I get on to all this?’

‘You were telling me that Maud noticed the untouched tray outside Cedric’s room as she went down to breakfast at nine.’ Faro thought for a moment. ‘But she didn’t look into the room. Wasn’t she curious?’

‘Not at all. Theodore and Cedric boasted that they needed little sleep and they rarely retired before three. As on this occasion when they decided to polish off another bottle of Langweil claret as a nightcap.’

‘Did they indeed?’ said Faro significantly.

‘No, no, Stepfather. It couldn’t have been in the claret otherwise Theodore would have been poisoned too—’

‘Unless the arsenic was added to Cedric’s glass only.’

Vince registered astonishment. ‘But that would mean - Theodore—’

Faro said nothing. But a demon in his brain said only one thing. If Theodore had murdered his brother for cause or causes still unknown, then he would hang.

And Barbara - Barbara will be free—

‘You are wrong, Stepfather.’ Vince interrupted his giddy tide of fantasy. ‘It cannot be Theodore. I’ll never believe that—’

‘We won’t know whether I’m right or wrong until we get all the facts together in their right order and see what we have left over. So at what time did Maud finally go into Cedric’s bedroom?’

‘About eleven o’clock. They had an engagement in Edinburgh for lunch. Of course, she was in a terrible state of shock and Theodore raised the alarm immediately. The coachman was sent for me and when I arrived nearly an hour later I knew from the state of his body - rigor mortis had set in - that he had already been dead for several hours.’

‘So the breakfast tray couldn’t have been tampered with. Therefore his brother had been the last to see him alive - after they’d finished off that bottle together.’

‘Surely you can’t believe that? Why, they are devoted to each other—’

Faro cut short his protests. ‘I’m trying to concentrate only on the facts. What you found when you got to Priorsfield. Namely, Cedric was dead and his brother anxious for you to sign the death certificate—’

He had hardly finished when the doorbell rang. The two men exchanged glances and, looking out of the window, Faro saw that the caller was Grace Langweil.

Mrs Brook ushered her into the drawing room. Throwing down her gloves, ignoring Faro, she rushed across to Vince.

‘What is all this about? Uncle Adrian tells me that - that you made a great fuss over the - the - certificate for poor dear Papa. And that you refused to sign it. Refused,’ she repeated, eyes wide in astonishment. ‘Now they tell me that you are insisting that there must be a postmortem. Vince - Vince, what in God’s name has got into you? Are you mad or something?’

Suddenly she broke down sobbing and Vince took her into his arms. But she refused to be comforted and pulling away from him demanded: ‘How could you be so cruel. How could you do this to Mama and me? And to our family who have always treated you with such kindness?’

‘It has to be done, Grace.’ Vince’s voice sounded hollow.

‘Has to? I don’t understand “has too”. I know about postmortems. Surely you could permit my father’ - she emphasised the words - ‘my father to go to his grave without carving up his poor body. Surely you owe us that much.’

Over his shoulder Vince gave a despairing glance at Faro who quietly left the unhappy pair. He saw them leave the house together, unspeaking, their faces pale, stony.

Shortly afterwards he departed on the train to investigate a fraud case near Musselburgh. Its intricacies kept his mind and energies away from the scene he had left at Sheridan Place and when he returned home late that evening, Vince was still absent.

At midnight his eyes drooped with weariness. It had been a long and gruelling day and he was glad to retire. Sleep was not to be his, however; he was alert at every sound, every footstep or carriage outside the house that might indicate Vince’s return.

One thought refused to leave his mind. If Theodore was innocent, who then in that apparently devoted family should wish to poison Cedric Langweil? All evidence must incriminate the last person who had poured him a glass of wine, who was apparently the last one to see him alive.

Faro found himself hoping for a miracle, that the postmortem would prove Vince’s misgivings were wrong, for he knew his stepson too well not to understand the anguish this decision had given him. To go against the whole assembled family of the girl he was to marry and declare that her father and their beloved brother had not died of natural causes.

Dawn was breaking, the first birds cheeping in the garden, when at last he drifted off into an uneasy slumber.

At the breakfast table Mrs Brook had a message for him. ‘A lad has just handed in this note from Mr Vince, sir.’

Detained on a confinement case. Theodore would like us both to present ourselves at Priorsfield at four o’clock this afternoon.

In happier circumstances Faro would have enjoyed the walk to Wester Duddingston. There were swans gliding on the loch’s mirrored surface and in the pale muted sunshine he stopped at a vantage point to gaze back at where a dwarfed castle crouched like a heraldic beast on a horizon misted with the approach of day’s end. This was his favourite hour, his favourite aspect of Edinburgh.

A city of dreams and a city of nightmares where the past walked close to the present. Close your eyes and you could sense that the past was alive and that history was still happening.

As he approached the gates of Priorsfield with its lawns rolling down to meet the rushes of Duddingston Loch, a skein of geese moved overhead, their faint cries filling the still air with a melancholy sweetness as they circled to feed on the rich sandbanks of the River Forth.

To think that mere hours ago he had approached this house with such hopes and optimism for the future. Already it seemed like part of another happier world, and, filled with sudden ominous dread for what lay ahead, he wondered as he walked up the front steps whether any of them would again be so happy and carefree as that last fateful dinner party, with no greater problem than whether or not to install a new bathroom.

Vince had already arrived. And taking him by the arm, he said:

‘They’re upstairs, in the drawing room.’

The family were assembled, waiting; silent, subdued under the curious numbness of sudden and unexpected bereavement. Their funereal blacks contrasted strangely with the garden glowing under the approach of sunset. In the shrubbery a robin added his plaintive winter song and a blackbird’s warning cry was lost in the strident screech of one of the Priorsfield peacocks.

With a slight bow in Faro’s direction Theodore stood up and with his back to the fire addressed them, his manner little different from that used to point out some approaching crisis to the shareholders of Langweil Ales.

‘Since Dr Laurie has cast doubt on the probable cause of my brother’s unfortunate death, as head of the family I have asked you to be present on this occasion to put on record that we are all in agreement that a postmortem, however regrettable and distasteful to us, must be carried out. Before the matter proceeds any further there are certain other matters involved.’ Pausing he looked directly at Faro. ‘You get my meaning, Inspector.’

The formal address left no doubt whatever in Faro’s mind as Theodore continued: ‘I mean, of course, that following notification to the Procurator Fiscal, a police investigation might ensue into the possible cause of Cedric’s death.’

A shocked silence followed an outbreak of whispered comments. Anxious looks were exchanged and angrier hurt looks directed towards Faro.

A moment later Theodore continued: ‘I think we should make it plain to the Inspector that all of us, with the exception of Grace here’ - he looked across with gentle compassion to where she huddled close to her mother’s side, clutching her hand for comfort - ‘all of us present can verify that Cedric’s death was not in the least unexpected.’

Heads were nodded in agreement as he turned again towards Faro. ‘My brother was in fact gravely ill. Dying. We have all been sadly aware that for the past six months he was suffering from an incurable brain disease and that his days were numbered.’

‘Oh, no, no.’ The cry was from Grace and Maud put her arms around her. ‘Hush, darling. Hush.’

‘No, Mama, it can’t be—’

‘My darling, I assure you it was. But your happiness was his main concern, we were to keep it from you—’ Maud’s voice failed and as she sobbed quietly Theodore went over and took Grace’s hands.

‘Dearest child. It was your papa’s earnest wish to spare you, his only child, so that you would prepare in joy for your wedding, and even that he would still be with us and well enough to lead you down the aisle.’

‘Oh, Papa, dear Papa,’ Grace sobbed. Now it was Vince’s turn to reach out for her, but turning from him she clung to her mother.