To Kill a Queen (14 page)

'Before you go. Do you know anything about a lost skean dhu?'

'A worn blade, horn handle with a cairngorm stone in the hilt?'

'The same.'

'Where did you find it?' Lachlan's eager delight made nonsense of this being the murder weapon.

'Sergeant Craig found it behind the woodpile.'

'So that's where it was. That is Johnnie's favourite dirk, given to him by Prince Albert. He lent it to me a couple of weeks ago when we were skinning rabbits. I mislaid it. Johnnie was very angry and we searched high and low. We did blame the tinkers. May I have it please?' he said putting out his hand.

'I'm afraid not. It has been taken away by Sergeant Craig. As evidence,' he added heavily.

'Evidence?' At Faro's silence, he laughed softly. 'Och yes, I see it fine. It would have its uses as a murder weapon. After all, that was its original purpose—'

They were interrupted by the arrival of Vince who threw open the door and announced that he had put all his patients to bed and was sorely in need of a dram.

Lachlan was disposed to be friendly to the newcomer. He talked about the best places to eat and the best places to fish. He was instantly transformed into a knowledgeable and enthusiastic countryman.

He left shortly afterwards, declining Faro's invitation to accompany them to the Crathie Inn where they were to dine, since Vince had little interest in the birthday party fare on offer. He would however accept a lift in the pony-cart as far as the Bush Farm road.

At their destination, Faro went over the day's events and the details of Lachlan's visit.

'He was right, Stepfather. Morag was pregnant, early stages. Dr Elgin told me. That Scots marriage though.' Vince shook his head. 'Very cunningly thought out, don't you think? Could it be that the father was a member of the Royal entourage?'

Faro gave it some consideration. A well-known method of paying off discarded mistresses, the higher the lady's position on the social scale the more likely the gift would be accompanied by a title or an estate. But in the case of a maid at the Castle, the sum offered to some willing local lad would seem like a fortune.

'Known as the rich man's hasty exit from an embarrassing situation. I fancy that the Queen must be well aware of such matters.'

Vince laughed. 'Despite her pretence that servants do not exist below the waist and that the piano's limbs must be decently covered. You think Lachlan was speaking the truth about this mysterious benefactor?'

'I do. But I don't know why, lad.'

'I expect it has occurred to you that his reluctance to reveal the source of this money might well point to a more sinister connection with visits to Ballater.'

Faro nodded grimly. 'That Ballater might be the present headquarters of the Prince's Party. Is that what you mean?'

Vince nodded. 'And that Lachlan might be up to his ears in the plot. I think you should look very carefully into that young man's background. Stepfather, especially bearing in mind that he has just returned to Ballater after a long absence. A scholarship to Oxford, no less.'

'Really?'

'So Dr Elgin tells me. Can you beat that? What would a ghillie's lad be doing at Oxford? Why not St Andrews, or Edinburgh? Even I never aspired to Oxford.'

Faro suppressed a smile. Because I could never have afforded to send you there, he thought, even if the idea of an English university had entered my head. This was the 'lad o' pains' with a vengeance.

Outside the cottage hospital, Vince said, 'I fancy Lachlan's absence would bear looking into, Stepfather, if it hasn't been done already.' Turning, he added, 'I don't suppose it has escaped your notice that his pale skin, so unusual in a country fellow, could be something else.'

'Prison pallor? Is that what you have in mind?'

'The same.'

Settling Steady for the night, Faro went into the darkened cottage. It was late and in due deference to Bella's great age and recent sojourn in hospital, the visitors had gone long since.

Creeping upstairs as quietly as he could, a board creaked under his foot and his aunt called out:

'Jeremy? I'm still awake.'

Turning up the lamp he saw she looked tired, but glowing and happy, like a small child at the end of an exciting birthday party. From underneath her pillow she handed him a silver cigar case.

'This was my dear man's. He would have wanted ye to have it. Been lying in a drawer for years. Tibbie came on it again when I was away, and she was cleaning. It was all tarnished.' She touched it lovingly. 'See what a bit of polish does. Vince told me ye smoke cigars sometimes. I want ye to have it while I'm still here and can see ye having the pleasure of it. Here, take it.'

Inside, under the Royal coat of arms, the inscription read: 'To Ben MacVae, a loyal servant. Albert.'

Thanking her with a hug and a kiss, he put the cigar case into his jacket pocket, resolving to fill it with fine Havanas at the earliest opportunity.

Faro's first visitor next morning was none other than the Prime Minister. An imposing figure with white hair and side-whiskers, Mr Gladstone bore an anxious expression which was either natural or induced by the gravity of his visit.

Ushered into the parlour by a curtseying Aunt Bella, Mr Gladstone accepted her offer of tea and bannocks.

'I would be delighted with a little refreshment. I have been up since six this morning and have already walked ten miles. At a measured twelve minutes per mile,' he added proudly.

He dismissed Faro's remarks of appreciative amazement. 'I trust you will not take it amiss that I am calling upon you informally. John Brown has alerted me to your presence, sir. Your name is not unknown to me in connection with the visits to Edinburgh by Her Majesty the Queen—'

His momentary pause, eyes lowered, almost amounted to genuflection, thought Faro with some amusement.

'—and with security arrangements and dangers to her Royal person averted. All of which you have managed so skilfully to handle. Most skilfully and courageously,' he added in a whisper.

Did he always speak like this, in the manner of a Member addressing the House or reading a carefully prepared speech? And Faro suppressed a smile, remembering that the Queen's aversion to Mr Gladstone was because of his subservience.

'I come to you, sir, on this occasion as a supplicant.' Mr Gladstone placed his fingertips together as if about to deliver a sermon. 'A supplicant, sir. In direst need. For time is of the essence. Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen' (again the lowering of eyes and voice), 'Her Most Gracious Majesty's life is once again in mortal peril. Mortal peril.'

Faro felt a quickening sense of disaster looming ahead. 'You have reliable information to that effect, sir?' he interrupted sharply.

'Only the merest hint, alas. A young man who was an—er, employed in the capacity of—er, surveillance of the Queen's safety. Very much undercover, you understand, sir. Very much. Discovered a threat to Her Majesty in none other than the Royal Household.'

Pausing dramatically, his hand upraised, he let the words sink in. 'Other attempts in the open have failed or have been frustrated. But this was daringly planned to take place by the Royal fireside. Such audacity. Breaking the sacred sanctity of hearth and home—'

'This man, Prime Minister—'

'I am not at liberty to discuss his identity. Except to say regretfully that he is no longer with us.'

'Paid off?'

'Dead,' said the Prime Minister hollowly. 'Pray do not question me further, Inspector.'

Could this be Lessing, the drowned footman, Faro wondered? If so, that threw a completely new equation into the plot. He would have loved to ask, but had no option but to respect the Prime Minister's wishes.

'Does your information concern an attempt at the Castle?'

'Indeed, sir. Have I not made that abundantly clear?' Mr Gladstone added indignantly.

'I had presumed so. And that this attempt must be imminent.'

'Imminent, indeed. As Her Majesty leaves Balmoral at the end of the week for the State Opening of Parliament, time is of the essence and we have very little—'

Too little to waste in verbiage. Faro thought in exasperation, wondering how any urgent business ever got through Parliament past its Prime Minister.

'You suspect this will come from within, that it is to be a domestic murder attempt?'

Mr Gladstone winced visibly at the word 'murder'.

'And from someone close to the Queen? One of the servants perhaps?'

'Servants, sir. I can hardly believe that one of Her Majesty's staff would commit blasphemy by touching the Royal person. Besides, all the staff are hand-picked, with excellent references. And those at Balmoral are particularly reliable. Most come from families who have served the Royal household since the Castle was built.'

Drawing himself up to his full height he regarded Faro disapprovingly. 'Loyal to a man, sir. They would willingly lay down their lives for Her Gracious Majesty. As I would, sir. Willingly.'

Faro felt uncomfortably that these dramatics were rather overplayed. 'I should like to see records of these servants. I presume that their particulars are on file.'

'Indeed. There is a register of when each one took up his or her position, plus the salary and any information regarding special qualifications for the Royal service.'

'Is it possible that I might have access to this information?'

'Indeed, yes. If you think it will help. I shall have it put before you.'

'No, Prime Minister, that would not do at all. This inspection must be sub rosa. If it is seen that I am carrying out an investigation then we lose out by alerting the assassin.'

Again Mr Gladstone winced at the word. 'If you wish, sir, but I thought that the true purpose of your visit here was being kept secret. That officially you were merely on a visit to your aunt.'

'That is what I thought, and hoped, a week ago,' said Faro with a sigh. 'My aunt, alas, is a dear good soul but is not renowned for her discretion. She is inclined to talk about her family and their preoccupations at some length.'

Mr Gladstone's face fell. 'That is a pity. A great pity.'

'Indeed it is. I expect that every movement I make is under observation.'

'In that case perhaps you will accompany me. We might make it look as if we had met by accident while I was taking one of my walks.'

'No, Prime Minister. That will not do at all. I would opt for a discreet social visit. In the evening perhaps when there are fewer prying eyes. And with your permission, I shall bring my stepson Dr Laurie, so that it looks as if we have arrived merely for a game of cards.'

'Capital, capital,' crowed Mr Gladstone delightedly. Then he added nervously, 'Do you play cards for money, by any chance, Inspector?'

'I would not dare, sir. There is an old adage about lucky at cards, unlucky in love. I seem to be lucky in neither, alas.'

The Prime Minister nodded eagerly. 'I have in my time tried to exert a little influence on His Royal Highness in the matter of gaming. At dinner at Abergeldie he invited me to play whist. I queried, "For love, sir?" To which he replied, "Well, shillings and half a crown on the rubber." Protocol demanded that I submitted, especially since the Prince's suggestion of such paltry stakes did show a nice point in manners.'

Faro was spared the search for a suitable response when Mr Gladstone continued, 'Perhaps I should bring to your attention that Sergeant Craig has inspected the servants' register recently in connection with the—er, unfortunate murder that Inspector Purdie of Scotland Yard is investigating.'

'The Inspector is aware of the Queen's danger.'

'Fully aware. But since he has not yet had the honour of protecting the Royal person, we consider that you have experience in the matter which might be invaluable to him. Especially as Her Gracious Majesty is acquainted with your methods.'

As Faro accompanied the Prime Minister to his carriage, he asked, 'What are Her Majesty's commitments outside the Castle before she leaves?'

'She plans a visit to Glen Muick tomorrow, a picnic followed by a salmon leistering later in the day. The fishermen attract the salmon to the surface by torchlight and spear them.'

Gladstone frowned suddenly as if the dangerous potential of that wild place at sunset had just occurred to him. 'Perhaps it would be advisable for you to accompany us. I shall arrange it.'

And leaning out of the carriage window, he added, 'I understand that you are carrying out a minor investigation at Her Majesty's behest concerning the recent decease of two of the Royal dogs.'

Faro nodded glumly and the Prime Minister continued, 'May I presume that you are on the track of some clues?'

'Alas, no.'

'A pity. A pity indeed.'

Faro did not like to depress the Prime Minister further by telling him that the identity of the Queen's dog-slayer and the prospective assassin were undoubtedly one and the same.

Chapter Nine

Inspector Purdie arrived ten minutes after the Prime Minister had left. Aunt Bella, whose supplies of warm hospitality were inexhaustible, offered tea and bannocks.