He took Millar's right hand. 'Your index finger is calloused, just here at the top joint, a frequent indication that a man spends much time with a pen in his hand. And last of all, I could not fail to notice that you recognised the book I'm holding as one of your own. Your latest, in fact, which I look forward to reading.'
Millar laughed. 'Well done, sir. And I guarantee it will appeal to you, for it is a kind of detective story. I have been looking for the clues that my grandfather hinted at when he accompanied James Bruce of Kinnaird on one of his expeditions to the source of the Nile in 1770.
'Bruce belonged to the minor Stirlingshire aristocracy and inherited enough wealth to indulge a passion for foreign travel. He was something of an enigma, an eccentric we would call him, absorbed by the theory that the Jews in Abyssinia were descendents of King Solomon's misalliance with the Queen of Sheba which had resulted in a son, Prince Menelik.
'His research was meticulous, but my grandfather suspected there was a great deal more in his letters than scholarly research, which Mr Bruce for his own reasons did not wish to have published.'
Faro's interest in the goings-on of Old Testament worthies was somewhat limited and he could only smile politely as Millar went on: 'My grandfather's letters hint that Mr Bruce might have been on the track of a greater treasure.'
Pausing, he regarded Faro quizzically. 'In fact, you might find the Luck o' Lethie particularly interesting -'
Before he could say more, they were interrupted by the arrival of an attractive, vivacious woman with black curls and sparkling eyes. Petite, pretty and breathless, she took Millar's arm.
'Stuart, dear, aren't you going to introduce me?'
'Of course, my dear. My sister -'
Elspeth Stuart Millar, who Faro guessed was nearer his own age than her brother's, took his hand eagerly. 'You are a celebrity, Inspector Faro, and my brother is very naughty to monopolise you.'
Looking at Bruce's book which Millar held, she said: 'Do leave all your boring old theories at home, dear. I'm sure Mr Faro didn't come here to linger in the dust of past times.'
Transferring her hold to Faro's arm, she looked up into his face. A ravishing smile completed the picture of elegance and charm. 'Dear Stuart has a bee in his bonnet about our grandfather. I assure you, he was a most tiresome old man. And desperately mean too -'
Millar gave a good-natured shrug as Faro, with an apologetic glance over his shoulder, allowed himself to be led away to a sofa by the window where Elspeth spread her skirts, and fan in hand, settled herself comfortably.
'There are so many things I'm just dying to ask you, Inspector. I know you won't probably be allowed to tell all. One has to be discreet -' She leaned forward confidentially. 'Do tell me, do you ever meet the dear Queen when she's at Holyrood?'
This was one of the questions most frequently addressed to Faro across dinner tables. His answer was a smile and a vague nod and a refusal to be drawn into further discussion on the subject. He was well acquainted with Her Majesty and the Prime Minister. The people who questioned him would have been very impressed by such information.
But Elspeth Stuart Millar was quite right in her assumption. Such information was classed as 'highly confidential', for several times during his years with the City Police he had been instrumental in averting disaster and royal murders which would have changed for ever the path of British history.
Some day, in a distant future when all the main characters including Faro himself were part of history, no doubt those stories would be told.
'What is she really like, I mean? And er, is there any truth in those shocking stories about her behaviour with John Brown?'
Faro was saved further comment as, turning, he saw Vince rushing towards them, his manner considerably agitated.
'Excuse me, madam.' And leading Faro away, he pointed. 'Over there, Stepfather. By the door -'
Chapter 5
Following Vince's anguished stare, Faro saw Sir Hedley Marsh standing in the doorway, blinking owlishly at the assembled guests.
As if still unable to believe his eyes, Vince murmured: 'The Mad Bart, Stepfather. What on earth is he doing here? Surely the Lethies never invited him!'
Faro shared his stepson's surprise. It was unknown for the aristocratic hermit to be lured out of Solomon's Tower to a social gathering.
'Dear God,' groaned Vince. 'If I'd seen the guest list, I'd have refused -'
But wonders weren't over by any means. As the Lethies went forward to greet him, from the shadows of the hall a young lady emerged.
At first Faro wondered if he was witnessing a manifestation of the family ghost in a dress of a bygone age.
That's the woman I told you about,' Vince murmured. 'I didn't know this was to be fancy dress -'
Even though Faro's experience of female apparel was slight, he could see that the full skirt and decollete neckline were reminiscent of the paintings of the young Queen Victoria on the walls of Holyroodhouse. The white silk of the gown had acquired the yellowish hue of age while the silk roses swirling across its skirts were faded blooms indeed.
As for the wearer, her face was as pale as the gown she wore. She was having considerable difficulties with the revealing neckline and a waistline that flowed rather than fitted. In fact the picture presented was of a garment whose original owner had been of shorter and more robust proportions.
As for the guests, they were too well-bred, too well-clad and in full control of any expressions of astonishment as their host and hostess led a shambling but reasonably clean and tidy Sir Hedley and his lady into the room.
'What on earth can Terence be thinking of? - Oh Lord, he's seen us.'
There was no chance of escape as Sir Hedley rushed forward and, ignoring Faro, eagerly seized Vince's hands.
'My dear young fellow. What a pleasant surprise. If I had known you were to be here we could have shared a carriage. You remember - er - this young lady.'
As Vince bowed over his erstwhile patient's hand, a sudden smile banished her anxious and bewildered expression. 'Of course I remember you - the doctor. You were so kind.'
'And this is Dr Laurie's stepfather, Detective Inspector Faro. My - er - niece - Miss Marsh.'
At that extraordinary introduction, 'Miss Marsh' suddenly crumpled, clinging to Sir Hedley for support. She looked ready to faint and Vince sprang forward.
'May I sit for a moment, please?' she whispered.
Sara Lethie, aware that all was not well, came swiftly over and from her reticule produced the smelling salts which she wafted briskly under Miss Marsh's nose.
Eyelids fluttered open, regarded the faces staring down at her. 'Where am I? What has happened?'
'You are with friends, my dear,' said Sara. 'And this is Dr Laurie - And here is your uncle -'
'Uncle?' Miss Marsh stared up at Sir Hedley, who cleared his throat and murmured: 'Well, my dear, what a to-do.'
At that she closed her eyes hastily and leaned back against the sofa.
By this time the polite guests were stricken in poses of mild curiosity, heads craned in the direction of this interesting tableau.
Sara was mistress of the occasion. She was used to dealing with the vapours of her female friends. 'I think it would be best if Miss Marsh rested upstairs for a while. Come, my dear.'
'Allow me to assist you, Sara dear.' Elspeth Stuart Millar sprang forward and with Vince bringing up the rear, Sir Hedley's thoroughly improbable niece was escorted out of the room.
Faro watched them go, followed by the curious glances and whispered speculations of the guests. The young woman was undeniably comely. Tall and willowy, with honey-blonde hair, Miss Marsh fitted admirably into that category Vince, so susceptible to female charms, in happier circumstances would have described as 'a stunner'.
At his side, Sir Hedley, aware of Faro's disbelieving expression, shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable. 'Not really my niece, y'know. Can't remember her name. Lost her memory. Dare say it'll come back -'
Faro w
as saved further comment by the sonorous pounding of the dinner gong as the guests took their seats at the table set for fourteen. Only thirteen places were taken, but this fateful number passed without comment as the butler discreetly removed the extra place setting.
If any of the diners noticed the absence of Sir Hedley's niece, they politely ignored it as Elspeth Stuart Millar returned and reinstated her claim upon Inspector Faro. In reply to his question about the young lady's condition, he was told she was recovering nicely. Then Elspeth turned to more important maters, relentlessly pursuing possible scandals in the Royal Family on which Faro, even if he knew they were true, was unable to comment.
Across the table he watched Vince return and, with a nod in his direction, scramble in an undignified manner for a seat as far as possible from the Mad Bart.
The dinner party proceeded without further incident. All excellent courses were consumed, all excellent wines demolished. At last it was time for Detective Inspector Faro to give his talk -so eagerly awaited, according to Terence Lethie's introduction.
His audience knew little of police matters, and in deference to the ladies present, he considered that burglaries were a more appropriate topic for an after-dinner speech than the more bloody and gruesome murders he had solved.
He kept his speech short, aware of the soporific effects that good wining and dining were having on the assembly. Ten minutes later, he sat down to a wave of applause.
'Brave, bravo,' cried Elspeth at his side. And when the applause had subsided, she said wistfully, 'Perhaps you would care to talk to some of my poor unfortunates - the Society for Impoverished Gentlewomen. I know how greatly they would appreciate -'
Faro was saved an answer as Sara invited the ladies to withdraw and leave the gentlemen to their port and cigars. He was looking forward to that part of the evening, a pleasant relaxation. But it was not to be his.
The butler appeared at Vince's side. A whispered word and he was escorted from the room.
Faro watched them leave, followed by Sir Hedley. Guessing that his stepson had been called to attend the young woman upstairs, he was not kept long in doubt as the butler approached.
'Dr Laurie wishes a word with you, sir,'
Excusing himself and leaving Elspeth mid-sentence, he was escorted into an upstairs bedroom where the Lethies, Vince and Sir Hedley hovered anxiously over Miss Marsh.
Reclining on a sofa, she had been removed from her gown and was now enveloped in a lacy peignoir, presumably the property of her hostess.
Her eyes flickered open. 'It all comes back -' she whispered, and looking around the room, she struggled to sit up.
'Good thing too,' said Sir Hedley, eyeing the ancient ballgown that had been discarded on the bed. 'Mamma's gown from the Queen's Coronation - all I could find. Family heirloom and all that.'
'So this was the unfortunate lady caught in a landslide at Samson's Ribs,' said Faro.
'She was hit by a flying stone, knocked unconscious. Recovered, y'know, staggered along the road. Saw my door -'
'Your mistress,' demanded Terence anxiously. 'When is Her Highness arriving?'
Her Highness?
Faro looked across at Vince, remembering his stepson's fury at being called in to the home of his old enemy. And now it seemed that the injured woman had some connection with the Grand Duchess of Luxoria.
'Your mistress,' Terence repeated patiently. 'Where is she?'
Miss Marsh cried out and looked ready to swoon again.
Sir Hedley stared down at her. 'What are you on about, Lethie?' he said angrily. 'Scared the young miss out of her wits. Don't understand -'
Terence held up his hand. 'Listen to me. This young woman is the Grand Duchess's lady-in-waiting.'
'And her name is Miss Roma Fortescue, Sir Hedley,' said Sara, eyeing him reproachfully.
Miss Fortescue opened her eyes and struggled into a sitting position. 'I remember it all now,' she said weakly.
Take your time, my dear, tell us what has happened?' said Sara, gently stroking her hands.
'We are as you know on our way to Holyroodhouse, Her Highness was to meet her godmother there -'
Faro, listening, frowned. Strange that there had been no mention of this impending visit at the Central Office, where the Queen's movements were followed diligently, especially when she happened to be heading towards Edinburgh. Extra security was a nightmare even on private visits and, as far as the records were concerned, Her Majesty was this moment still in Balmoral Castle.
'... It was the night of the storm, I don't know when -'
'More than a week ago,' put in Terence. 'We had a lot of damage, trees down on the estate.'
'Well, we were delayed. We landed down the coast -somewhere - North Berwick, I think -'
'Are you sure?' asked Faro.
'Yes.'
Faro's frown deepened. What on earth was the entourage from Luxoria doing landing at North Berwick when Leith was the obvious port?
'... The coachman took the wrong route and the road was flooded, a bridge - somewhere - collapsed and we were trying to find a road round when we were swept into the river. I don't remember what happened exactly.'
She shook her head. 'I came to myself lying in a haycart. A carter fished me out. He told me what had happened, that he was heading to Edinburgh. I felt very uneasy about his attitude, he was - ' she paused unhappily '- somewhat over-familiar.'
Even in borrowed robes and a tearful, distressed condition, she still managed to look remarkably attractive, enough for Faro not to find the carter's amorous arousal in the least surprising.
'... So I pointed to a house and said that was my destination and the people were expecting me. They would be so glad I was safe -'
Again she paused, biting her lip, reliving that frightening moment. 'It was that village down the road with a church and a loch - we passed on our way here.'
'Duddingston,' prompted Sir Hedley.
She nodded eagerly. 'I was terribly afraid. I waited until the carter was out of sight, then I wandered along the road. I knocked at your door -' She paused and looked at Sir Hedley. Then I'm afraid I must have fainted.'
'Quite so, quite so.' Sir Hedley patted her hand and looked up at Vince. 'You know the rest, young fellow. Took her in, saw you passing -'
Faro glanced in Vince's direction. This was not exactly the same story that Vince had told him about a flying stone. Perhaps that had been Miss Fortescue's polite invention to save the embarrassment of that tale of an amorous carter, and Sir Hedley had presumed the rest. He listened intently as she continued: 'Sir Hedley has been so kind to me,' She smiled up at him gratefully. 'He was too much of a gentleman to ask any questions. I thought my memory would never come back - and indeed, until this minute - everyone will be so relieved to know I am unhurt.'
As she spoke, looks were exchanged, looks of growing horror.
Terence bent over her. 'My dear Miss Fortescue, I'm afraid we haven't yet had a sight of Her Highness.'
'You haven't?' She looked round. 'Undoubtedly she will have made her way direct to Holyroodhouse to see Her Majesty.' She smiled for the first time. 'Her Highness is very resourceful. And independent.'
All now looked hopefully towards Faro. He shook his head.
'We have not been informed -'
'But she could be there?' said Miss Fortescue desperately.
'Not without the knowledge of the Edinburgh City Police, miss. You will appreciate that Her Majesty's residences are very carefully guarded -'
'We expected her to arrive at Lethie several days ago,' Terence interrupted. 'When she did not appear, we presumed that she had been delayed. Or that the visit had been cancelled.'
'Tell me, miss, what does your mistress look like?' Faro asked as gently as he could, hoping Miss Forstecue would not realise the sinister implications of such a remark. If she did not, then others did. The reproachful looks in his direction said louder than words that this was a brutal question expressing their own secret and unspoken fears
.
Miss Fortescue seemed merely bewildered. She shook her head. 'What does she look like?' she repeated. 'I have a photograph of her. At least - I had one in my luggage. But why -?' Then as the significance dawned, she whispered: 'You surely don't think -'
'No, no, miss,' Faro lied. 'But if you can tell us a little more about your mistress it would help -'
He quailed under Miss Fortescue's cold stare.
'What is it you wish to know, sir?'
Faro attempted to smile reassuringly, and tried hard not to sound like a grim detective soullessly pursuing information for a missing persons enquiry. He had no alternative but to plunge ahead.
'Her appearance, miss, what she was wearing and so forth.'
Miss Fortescue continued to stare at him, and he carried on hastily. 'Look, miss, presumably your mistress was badly shaken by the accident, as you were. She might have had a shock, the same reactions as you've suffered.' Even as he spoke he felt the possibility of two lost memories was very thin indeed.
Miss Fortescue was clearly having a struggle with her own memory. At last she said: 'She's about my height, a bit more well-built, fairish hair, blue eyes. Does that help?'
It did. That slight description thoroughly alarmed Faro, fitting so neatly the corpse of the woman in the West Bow who had been found in such mysterious circumstances... ten days ago.
'The coachman,' said Miss Fortescue helpfully. 'He should be able to tell you what happened. Where he took her and so forth.'
The silence that greeted this observation needed further explanation. With admirable self-control she stifled a scream.
'You mean - he never - Oh dear - the poor man. He must have drowned.'
Now the same thought was in everyone's mind. Miss Fortescue had indeed been lucky to survive. The coachman and the carriage, and Her Highness the Grand Duchess of Luxoria had not been so fortunate. At this moment, they were lost without trace, swept out by the tide, out of the estuary and into the deep and secret waters of the wild North Sea. They might be washed up anywhere, even in Norway, if their bodies lasted that long.
[Inspector Faro 14] - Faro and the Royals Page 21
