The Coffin Lane Murders

by Alanna Knight

  By the time the rich aroma of bacon, eggs and sausage frying had penetrated the upper layers of the house and had lured Vince and Olivia into the dining room, it was evident that the inspector would not be returning to breakfast with them, his habit since Jamie's birth and the removal of the surgery into separate premises.

  'The inspector left a note on the hall table, Mrs Brook,' said Vince. 'Yes, I expect he'll be back tonight. No, I can't say whether he will be with us for supper,' he added a trifle sharply. 'We shall have to wait and see.'

  He found the housekeeper easily upset these days by the slightest alteration in her ritual of meal times, a condition he and his stepfather were frequently unable to fulfil. Even before his marriage it had been a daunting task.

  Mrs Brook was not pleased at such lack of precision, especially as Mrs Laurie was also indifferent to meals served on time since she was frequently engaged with Mrs Pursley in good works, while excellent cooking went to waste.

  Miss Rose understood that Food and Cleanliness were only one step removed from God as far as Mrs Brook was concerned. She listened patiently to the housekeeper's complaints that she was not being unreasonable in needing information well in advance if any members of the family were to be absent.

  'Papa frequently has tasks that require urgent attention - to do with the police, you know,' she reminded the housekeeper gently.

  Mrs Brook beamed on her. Here was a lass who would go far, she thought, watching her contentedly taking second helpings of everything as the front door slammed on Dr Laurie.

  At the surgery the two doctors were already confronted by a long line of patients shivering in the waiting-room, the later arrivals looking enviously at the coveted chairs already occupied near the fire.

  Conan poked his head out of the surgery. 'Angus is late - as usual. He should have been here an hour ago. I don't know what he thinks he's at,' he grumbled.

  One glance told Vince that they had a serious situation. Most of the patients were exhibiting the effects of influenza and coughs.

  'As is my poor wife,' Conan muttered to Vince as they met in the surgery's dispensary later. 'I left her in bed this morning. She is far from well. She was very upset, had promised to see Olivia - about this damned pantomime business.'

  Conan's forebodings were right. Kate failed to arrive for a working lunch at Sheridan Place and a discussion regarding the profits accruing to the orphans. As with all such ventures there was an unforeseen and alarming list of bills to be settled first.

  'I warned her she wouldn't be fit enough to leave the house,' said Conan that afternoon. 'She really does take on far too many engagements. We - or rather she - forgets how delicate she is. I should have forbidden her to get involved with the pantomime. But she gets so much joy out of helping others and refuses to regard herself as an invalid,' he added forlornly. 'This heart condition - it's getting steadily worse, I'm afraid.'

  Both doctors knew the serious nature of Kate's illness.

  'At least as her doctor you can look after her properly; that is the best possible treatment,' said Vince.

  'I know all that, old chap. But as far as Kate is concerned I am still only her husband and she refuses to take me seriously. I've asked her to let you give a second opinion.

  Maybe she'll take your advice,' he said as they put on their coats to leave the surgery.

  'I'll do it gladly.'

  Conan shook his head. 'Be prepared for the same response as I get. She'll insist that we're making a great fuss and that she's as strong as a horse. She says that I cosset her too much and that if we'd had children, I would have had more important things to worry about.' He sighed bleakly. 'She adores wee Jamie. It has meant so much to her having Olivia as a friend.'

  'Poor Kate,' said Vince. 'I know how terrible it was for her losing those early pregnancies.'

  'And for me, don't forget,' said Conan bitterly. 'It is terrible for a man never to prove his manhood. Never to have a son.'

  'It could be fatal now if she had a child,' said Vince.

  'I know. I know. And I leave it to your imagination what the prospects of the rest of our married life are like, always haunted by fear of another doomed pregnancy.'

  Vince's carriage was waiting to take Conan back to Solomon's Tower. 'I'll give her your regards - and your advice, old chap.'

  'Do, please. Tell her how concerned we are about her.'

  'I will. If this is the onset of influenza, perhaps if we get it in the early stage she'll be better in a few days.'

  'Try out our new cough medicine,' said Vince. 'It's worked well on some of the patients. Brought down their fevers, at least.'

  Conan closed the carriage door. 'Knowing Kate, she'll not want to take anything; let nature take its course, she'll say. Women are impossible sometimes,' he added despairingly.

  'They're certainly more stoic than we are,' said his friend. 'Nature made them that way, I suppose, having so many more pains to bear.'

  Chapter 21

  Faro returned from Glasgow late that evening, hoping to talk to Vince. But he and Olivia had seats for the theatre and Rose was with them. Mrs Brook, somewhat tight-lipped, told him that her dinner was not required. They were to dine at the Café Royal and would not be home before midnight.

  'Never mind,' said Faro. 'I could eat a horse. I haven't eaten all day.'

  Mrs Brook was placated and gratified, although the inspector's attention to her steak pie and rhubarb tart was less complimentary than usual. He ate hungrily but was very involved with his thoughts, a deep frown creasing his forehead, and he sighed deeply and shook his head with considerable force from time to time.

  It was midnight when the trio returned.

  Vince had obviously dined and in particular wined exceedingly well.

  'I must get him up to bed,' whispered Olivia as Vince staggered across the room and sank into a chair, closing his eyes firmly. 'Don't fall asleep there, darling.'

  Rose yawned. 'Me, too. I'm so sleepy.'

  Seeing her father's grim expression as he looked at Vince, she added apologetically, 'We all needed some cheering up after an evening of Ibsen. Goodnight, Pa.' She gave him a goodnight kiss and at the door she turned. 'Guess who we met in the interval at the theatre?'

  'Angus Spens, perhaps,' said Faro grimly.

  Her eyes widened. 'How did you guess? You must be psychic!'

  'Not at all. You looked so pleased-'

  'Pleased! We couldn't get rid of him. Thought he was coming to the Café Royal with us. He practically begged for an invitation.'

  'How did you get out of that?'

  She kissed his cheek gently. 'By diplomacy, the way you brought me up, Pa. I promised to lunch with him - alone,' she added with a teasing glance.

  Olivia was watching Vince. 'Give me a hand to get him upstairs, will you, please?' she said to Faro.

  They got him into bed while he muttered protests about being fine and giggled rather a lot.

  Faro gave one last unhappy look at his already snoring stepson. What a time to choose for this bout of happy inebriation when all his senses were most needed.

  Closing their bedroom door, he had never felt in such utter despair, in such urgent need of confiding in Vince the dire evidence he had accumulated that day.

  There was no one he could turn to and although he got undressed and went to bed, knowing nothing more could be accomplished that night, he realised he would sleep little, for he had in front of him a sad and monstrous duty.

  Inspector Faro was deeply troubled. Mrs Brook observed that he had left the lamps burning. He was a stickler for safety in the home and he was not usually so absent-minded.

  And Mrs Brook was right.

  By four o'clock Faro had turned over every eventuality in his mind. He had gone over the evidence piece by piece, praying that somewhere he had taken a wrong turning, made a grievous mistake.

  At last, knowing that sleep was impossible and he was to need all his wits about him for the task ahead, he decided to take some of
the doctors' 'Soothing Elixir for Restful Slumber'.

  The result was disastrous. Exhausted by the previous day's events he slept for nine hours and awoke feeling drugged and dazed.

  He dressed and dashed downstairs to be met by Rose in the hall donning her bonnet.

  'Had a good night's rest, Pa? I'm rushing off to meet Livy.'

  'For God's sake, Rose, why didn't someone wake me?'

  Rose looked surprised. 'Was it so important?'

  'Of course it was important. I always get up at seven.'

  Rose sighed. 'I'm to blame, Pa. I thought you were looking so tired last night I told the others that you were needing to sleep on, the way you've been missing meals. Vince and Livy agreed - Pa!'

  But he was already out of the front door rushing along the street. At least the cold air alerted his senses again but as he arrived at Vince's surgery, he noticed that the carriage was not parked in its usual place.

  His fears were confirmed when a notice on the door read: 'Doctors visiting patients. Please put urgent messages in box provided.'

  He scribbled a note adding: 'Come at once. This is a matter of life and death.'

  On the off chance Vince might look into Sheridan Place, he returned home where Mrs Brook was to report later that the inspector ran into the house in a great state, as she put it, demanding to know where Miss Rose was meeting Mrs Laurie.

  When she said: 'I overheard them discussing Princes Street,' he swore, which wasn't like him, and asked if Jamie was out with Nanny Kay.

  'No, Inspector. This is her afternoon off. Dr Pursley looked in earlier and I heard him offering to take Jamie off their hands for the afternoon as he hates going to the shops.'

  'And no, Inspector,' she added. 'I didn't see them leave. It must have been while we were in the laundry room ironing.'

  Faro hardly listened.

  On the main road there was not a hiring carriage to be seen.

  He no longer had time to waste searching for one and he trotted briskly in the direction of Solomon's Tower.

  He did not ring the bell this time but quietly let himself in at the back door, which was unlocked.

  So there was someone at home after all. Listening carefully he thought he heard a voice from upstairs.

  Walking soundlessly up the stone spiral, he tapped gently on the door of Kate's room. There was no answer and glancing inside, he saw that she was in bed apparently sleeping.

  Sir Hedley was dozing in a chair by the fire.

  He left them and ran upstairs to the Templars' Chapel, silent, sinister in the dim late-afternoon light with its ancient cross on the wall above the stone altar.

  As he was examining it, a sound alerted him.

  Carpet-slippered, soundlessly, Sir Hedley appeared at the door, clutching an ancient pistol which Faro did not doubt by his grim expression was loaded and which the old man with provocation would not hesitate to use.

  'So it's you, Faro. Thought we had an intruder. Went in to see m'niece, must have fallen asleep. You've no right to be in here, sir. Strictly private. Have strict instructions about that, y'know. None of anybody's business but my own. Sacred trust and all that sort of thing.' He pointed to the cross. 'What are you about, sir?' he demanded.

  'The owl moons clasper, sir, that's what I am about. It's an anagram of Solomon's Tower Chapel.'

  Sir Hedley laughed. 'So you solved our riddle.'

  'You've always known?'

  'Of course. And that old book Kate lent me. That would have helped. But those two were after the wrong thing. Could have saved them the trouble of searching.'

  From his pocket, he took an ancient key which he inserted in the rose centre of the cross. It sprang open to reveal a stone niche in the wall.

  'See it? Held the sacrament once, perhaps even that mysterious treasure the Templars brought with them from Jerusalem. Their Holy Grail - maybe. Who knows? No one has ever solved that particular riddle, have they? The treasure, that damned French gold, whatever it was that all the fuss was about - went long since. If it ever existed, which I doubt.'

  He nodded towards the empty niche. 'Always been empty in my time, nothing but a piece of old wood inside. Didn't want to throw it away-'

  'Where is it now?'

  He shrugged. 'Your wee lad was playing with it on my desk. Said he could take it away with him-'

  'If only you had told the Pursleys, sir.' How could he begin to explain the dreadful truth? 'People have died-'

  The old man stared at him and grinned. 'People have always died, innocent and guilty alike, where money is concerned.'

  Another voice came from behind them. 'And it isn't over yet, I'm afraid.'

  Conan stood framed in the doorway, with Jamie in his arms. 'I'm sorry to inform you both that Kate is dead.'

  Chapter 22

  'Kate has just died,' Conan repeated in a voice devoid of all emotion.

  Sir Hedley gave a shout of disbelief and ran towards the door. 'Let me go to her, let me go to her.'

  Conan stood aside. 'As you please.'

  They heard him shuffling along the corridor as Conan turned to Faro and, still carrying Jamie, indicated a chair. 'We might as well be comfortable for a while.'

  'Let me take him.'

  'No, no, you'll wake him.'

  Faro looked at Conan with the sleeping child in his arms, trying to reconcile what he saw and what he had believed of this man's essential goodness, his dedication to saving lives, with this terrible reality, this gross betrayal.

  'You killed Kate, didn't you?'

  Even as he uttered the words he hoped for a passionate denial or for some shattering rational explanation which he had overlooked in the evidence that pointed so steadily at Conan.

  'Of course I didn't kill her.' Conan shrugged. 'She was dying; we all knew that.' But as he spoke he avoided Faro's eyes and there was a sense of triumph he was unable to hide, of matters that had gone according to plan.

  'For God's sake, why did you hate her? What had she ever done to you?' Faro demanded.

  'I didn't hate her. That's too strong a word. Indifferent, yes, I have been indifferent for years.' He paused and looked down tenderly at Jamie. 'I suppose it began when I knew there would never be a live child.'

  Faro regarded him steadily. 'It was always Kate, wasn 't it?'

  'I don't take your meaning.'

  'Kate was always the intended victim. You wanted rid of her so you killed the others to make it look as if your patient Lady Celia was responsible.'

  'That's a preposterous suggestion. Are you out of your mind? Celia killed them all.'

  Faro's face was expressionless and with a sigh of exasperation Conan said, 'I'll tell you what I know of the first murder. She went that afternoon to call on Dr Ben in his bookshop, as she so often did. Well, she found him dead. She thought someone had killed him and that she'd be blamed. That threw her back over the edge. She heard someone at the door, ran into the kitchen, picked up a knife to defend herself. Panicked and ran for her life.'

  He shook his head. 'She needed me desperately. I was the only one who could help her. She was madly in love with me - I think you probably guessed that. I still don't know, and we never will, why she killed that maid Molly. Perhaps she was lost, asking the way to Solomon's Tower and the maid got in her way...'

  As Conan spoke, suddenly Faro could see it all happening. The maid rushing out of the house into the night after a bitter quarrel with her mistress. Distraught, running away - and running towards Celia, also distraught. But with a knife in her hand.

  In that last moment did she believe that Molly had been sent to pursue her, take her back to the asylum?

  'And when she did reach you,' Faro said, 'and you knew she had killed Molly, you realised you couldn't help her any more. She'd be locked away for the rest of her life. Was that when you got the idea? Why not make it worthwhile. Another couple of murders she'd be blamed for. And then Kate.'

  'They weren't meant-' Conan bit back the words.

  'To die.' F
aro completed for him grimly. 'But die they did. First of all, however, you had to get rid of Celia.'

  'It wasn't like that at all. I never intended to harm her. I even tried to persuade her to go back to the asylum with me, give herself up. She turned violent at that - hitting out at me. Madness and fear gave her terrible stength. I had to defend myself. We struggled and she fell. It was an accident.'

  'Accident or no you now had a new dilemma,' Faro continued relentlessly. 'How to hide the body until Kate's murder was accomplished. Was that when you remembered the frozen loch? You could take her body there and put it at the far end of the loch where the ice was thinner, where it could be broken and the body pushed under the water. Weighted down with stones, she might rot away long before she was found. Another two victims-'

  The woman Rita. She died of shock because she was asthmatic. She wasn't murdered,' Conan interrupted angrily.

  'Precisely. You wanted her to live long enough to confirm that the killer was a woman. Afterwards-' Faro shrugged. 'If it hadn't been asthma then an overdose of laudanum would have worked as well. You might still have got away with it, and scared Kate into a heart attack by appearing at the kitchen window and writing a threatening note - but your timing was wrong. You were seriously out of luck. Celia's body had been discovered when the loch was being dredged for the drowned student.'

  Conan stared at him. 'This is ridiculous. Your case is pretty thin, Inspector. You will have considerable difficulty proving any of this or that I had anything to do with the Glasgow woman's murder.'

  'Ah, but there you are quite wrong. As well as Kate, there was one other person you wanted out of the way. Fate seemed to play into your hands when you were returning from visiting your parents in Glasgow and you met Mrs Simms on the Edinburgh train. Unfortunately Rose recognised you talking together.'

  'So? I remember the incident. She asked for directions. A mere coincidence-'

  'Not quite. Since Mrs Simms was your mistress's mother.'

  Conan paled visibly, his knuckles showing white as Faro continued, 'Mrs Simms had never liked you. Until you went through a form of marriage when Dora was pregnant she suspected, quite correctly, that you already had a wife.