The Inspector's Daughter (A Rose McQuinn Mystery)

by Alanna Knight

  He paused for a moment to let this sink in before continuing: 'But there are certain important financial matters - if I may crave your indulgence for a little longer-'

  As the door closed on him, I opened Vince's letter. It was two weeks old and written on elegant notepaper with the Royal crest.

  Dearest Rose

  Welcome home again! I trust that you are well and that the sea voyage was pleasant and agreeable at this time of year for yourselves and the little one. I apologise for not being at hand to greet you and trust you will understand and forgive when I tell you of my amazing change of fortune.

  Destiny has smiled on my endeavours as an Edinburgh doctor at last and by Her Majesty's command I have been appointed as a junior physician to the Royal household (at Osborne, Windsor - or wherever!). Balmoral is quite high on the list, which means I may expect to visit my native land en route at Holyrood on brief occasions.

  Dearest Rose, I am quite overwhelmed by it all. Such a privilege, such an honour, although we were sad to leave Sheridan Place, our happy home of many years, with all its memories of dear Stepfather, of you and our dear Emily. I do not doubt that Olivia will settle very happily in our new life, especially when it will afford such excellent opportunities and prospects for the children.

  Jamie is almost eleven, a popular playmate with the young Princes, while the older Princesses make a great fuss over little Amelia and Eliza (who as you know are now six and four). I am delighted to tell you that we are expecting a further addition to our little family in the autumn!

  As I had not received any communications from Vince in recent times mentioning the little girls, I had no knowledge of any babies after Jamie. This was indeed a surprise.

  You will need a place to live. And I am happy to inform you that I have transferred the title deeds of Solomon's Tower, which I inherited three years ago, to you. It is now yours to live in or dispose of as you wish. Mr B. will give you all the details. Enjoy it with Danny and your own small brood - it pleases me to think of that ancient house being full of the happy laughter of small children-

  I shivered at that. Ghosts of the children we had dreamed of and would never have. Poor Vince. So he didn't know. None of my tragic news had ever reached him. As for this information regarding Vince's inheritance, that was strange and quite fortuitous, something of a miracle in my present low financial state. To find that I had a home of my own, although recalling the ruinous condition in which I last saw it, this might not be such a boon after all. I continued reading:

  When my duties with the Royal household allow me to travel north doubtless we will have an opportunity to meet. Perhaps on Her Majesty's visit to Balmoral? Rest assured I will make the utmost endeavour to look in and see how you are faring in your new home. Olivia has done a great deal to make it comfortable for you. She joins me in sending fondest love.

  I remain. Your obedient servant and devoted brother

  Vince Laurie MB, ChB

  It was so typical of Vince. I couldn't see myself rushing down to the Isle of Wight or Windsor, or even London. What if Danny was alive? The forlorn hope persisted that the dead might rise again, and one day a door might open and I would find him waiting, as he did so often in my dreams. What if he came to Edinburgh (to return home together had been our ultimate plan)? What if he came, maimed or ill, and couldn't find me again?

  Such thoughts tormented the sleepless hours of the night...

  Mr Blackadder hadn't returned. There were three letters with Orkney postmarks from my sister Emily and, being Emily, they were written in haste with no dates.

  Yesnaby House

  Dearest Rose

  Vince has written to me with the glad news that you are returning home to Edinburgh at last! Welcome to you and Danny and my little niece or nephew.

  I long to hear all about the baby, a photograph would be lovely. Family groups are so popular these days. I am so looking forward to hearing from you, dearest Rose, and all about your exciting adventures in the New World.

  Gran is well and sends her love as does

  Your loving sister

  Emily

  There were two more written in similar vein, earlier and more distraught in tone. Why had I not replied to her letters? Had I not received them, etc., etc.

  The remaining contents of the packet were wedding invitations from two fellow teachers I had worked with in Glasgow. So long ago, like something from another world.

  A note from a childhood friend, Alice, giving notification of a new address in Edinburgh. Once a near neighbour, we had been very close and I had been at her wedding.

  But there was nothing from Pappa.

  Mr Blackadder returned, full of apologies for the delay. I said I had read Vince's letter. 'What is this about Solomon's Tower?' 'Ah yes. Dr Laurie inherited the property with a substantial legacy on Sir Hedley Marsh's death some years ago. He decided not to sell it since it is of local historic interest-'

  I suspected that he might have difficulty in obtaining a buyer. Ancient and forbidding in appearance, it had acquired a bad reputation as a haunted house. It had been home to a murderer just before I left Edinburgh-

  'Dr Laurie decided it should be kept in the family, that is what Sir Hedley would have wished-'

  (Obviously he was unaware that all the family knew of Vince's quite unreasonable dislike for the man who had always shown such a great fondness for him.)

  Ignoring my look of surprise, he continued: 'Dr Laurie gave instructions that the property was to be restored and modernised. The deeds are in your maiden name,' he added. 'A necessary precaution should you wish to remarry.'

  As he explained the legalities, I understood his small hesitation, remembering again how Vince and Pappa had been in full agreement with Danny's own wish that I should remain in Scotland until such time as he returned for me. Had their fears been based on some instinct for the disaster that was to overwhelm us both?

  'Dr Laurie's wishes have been carried out to the letter and you will find remarkable changes in the old Tower, including regular visits from a firm of cleaners to make certain that it was kept in readiness for your immediate occupation. Foley, the gardener and handyman from Sheridan Place, is very reliable. He will also look after the exterior fabric of the building, coal supplies and so forth.' Mr Blackadder regarded me solemnly. 'That is, if you so wish.'

  A gardener-handyman indeed. What a luxury, remembering filthy hands and an aching back, tilling the dry earth to raise vegetables in the patch of earth outside our cabin in Dakota.

  Memories, some of them tender, came flooding back-

  'Considering your present circumstances,' Mr Blackadder continued, 'you may wish to give it some thought. Perhaps an Edinburgh lodging would be a happier choice for a lady on her own.'

  Then, hesitantly: 'The house, as you know, is somewhat isolated,' he added, leaving me with an unhappy feeling that there was much more he could say on the subject. A warning, perhaps, but he was unable to find suitable words.

  Not that I would have heeded a warning. My sojourn in America had proved beyond any possible doubt that I was totally oblivious to anyone's advice. Now I remembered only how I had regarded as special treats visits to Solomon's Tower with Pappa.

  The tribe of cats, the smell, the ruinous happy state did not worry a child and I decided boldly to accept Mr Blackadder's assurances of agreeable changes. As I had no other place to live and no money beyond a few sovereigns, it was in my best interests to take up temporary residence there. Until I wrote to Emily and told her of my plight-

  Mr Blackadder was watching me. 'Are there - is there any family, Mrs McQuinn?' He cleared his throat. 'I understood from Dr Laurie...'

  'No,' I said sharply before he could utter more condolences, which would only succeed in opening the floodgate of tears, that bottomless well of grief... 'I have only my sister Emily. I may go and stay with her in Orkney eventually. Meanwhile the Tower will serve my purpose,' I added, certain that when Emily knew of my sad circumstances she and
her husband would offer me a home. There is always a place for widowed sisters or those female relatives beyond hope of marriage in a family where there are children to attend or a large house to manage.

  But even as I spoke confidently of Emily's response, a small voice questioned: did I want to return to my childhood years spent on an island remote from the rest of Scotland? Did I want to become a dependent relative, an unpaid but much loved servant, for the rest of my life?

  The bell in the other office signalled another client.

  I stood up this time to take my leave, thanking him once again.

  'One moment, if you please.' Reaching for a key, he unlocked a drawer and withdrew a purse. 'This should tide you over for a little while, see you settled.'

  He looked at me steadily. 'And I would urge you most strongly, Mrs McQuinn, to acquire the services of a maid without delay.'

  I opened the purse. Guineas, banknotes-

  At my gasp of surprise, Mr Blackadder smiled. 'Obviously Dr Laurie did not mention in his letter that he had a draft sent to the bank in Dakota giving them authority to pay you one hundred dollars. This was particularly to finance your return to Edinburgh. It has been returned to us -'

  I was staring at the money, counting it in my head. In my present state this was a small fortune.

  Mr Blackadder smiled. 'This is merely part of the legacy of one thousand guineas from Sir Hedley Marsh's estate which we hold in trust for you.'

  I gasped, 'One thousand guineas!' I was rich! 'I don't know what to say.'

  Mr Blackadder smiled. 'It is your stepbrother you should thank, Mrs McQuinn, and I am sure you will do so.'

  The bell rang again.

  'My senior clerk, Jeffries, will escort you to your hotel.'

  I looked at him. 'I haven't one. I thought I might go straight to Solomon's Tower, since it is kept in readiness for me.'

  Mr Blackadder bit his lip, frowned and opened his mouth, like one about to offer advice. Then, thinking better of it, he sighed and from a drawer he handed me two large keys. 'Jeffries will accompany you to make sure that all is in order. I have already instructed him to collect provisions for you from a reliable grocer in Broughton Street.'

  'Thank you, sir. You are very kind, but if the farm in St Leonard's is still there, it is just a short distance from the Tower. Our housekeeper at Sheridan Place, Mrs Brook, relied on it for our supplies of milk, eggs and bacon-'

  And I remembered delicious newly baked bread thickly buttered by Mrs Brook. Dear Mrs Brook, who was like a second mother to Emily and me. Had she gone with Vince?

  'No,' said Mr Blackadder. 'She retired some years ago and went to live with a cousin in the Highlands. Dr Laurie keeps in touch, I believe. He will give you her address.'

  Jeffries, summoned, was just a shade junior and a shade less dusty than his employer.

  'Jeffries will call a carriage for you. You will find him most reliable,' I was told as he proceeded to gather up my luggage. As he had probably been with the firm since before I was born, I felt guiltily that I was fitter and stronger to carry my own array of packages.

  At the door, Mr Blackadder took my hand. 'Let me know how you fare and, if there is anything you need, you have only to ask. This firm has always been happy to serve your family in any capacity.'

  For a moment he frowned, staring across the street. 'Get a maid as soon as you can, Mrs McQuinn, see to that with all possible speed.' Again his tone was urgent.

  'I have managed on my own for a long while in America-'

  'I understand things are different there. But Solomon's Tower is very isolated from other habitations and a fair walk into the city-'

  'I have thought of that, sir. Since I have come into a great fortune, perhaps I can afford a bicycle.'

  'A bicycle, Mrs McQuinn?' His eyes opened wide, an expression of horror.

  'Yes, it would be very useful.' I didn't add that I had yearned to possess one ever since my first encounter with the new craze for bicycles on the streets of New York.

  'But Mrs McQuinn, no lady would be seen riding such a machine in the city. It is considered, well, rather improper and most undignified.'

  I smiled. 'Perhaps I don't consider myself too much of a lady to forgo the convenience of such an easy and pleasant way to travel.'

  Mr Blackadder shook his head impatiently. 'Very well, Mrs McQuinn, you must do as you wish.'

  As he led the way down the front steps, shaking his head sadly, I hoped he wasn't going to have a seizure. Handing me into the waiting carriage, he said once again: 'A maid, Mrs McQuinn, remember that is your first priority. Your stepbrother would not want you to live in Solomon's Tower alone. He would be very exercised about that.'

  I thanked him for his concern and, sitting back in the carriage, I thought about my own change in fortune. No longer penniless, with a home, money to buy food and clothes - and a bicycle too.

  Dear Mr Blackadder. I turned to wave to him through the window but he did not see me.

  He was frowning, staring across the street and as we flashed past I again saw a newspaper placard: 'Horrible Murder. Savage killer still at large.'

  Chapter 3

  We drove down the Pleasance and I instructed the cabman to stop at Bess's farm. The smell of hot baking bread took me straight back to childhood and made my mouth water.

  The old woman greeted me warmly and said she hadn't seen me for a long time, but I was as bonny as ever. I was flattered. She didn't look any different either. Perhaps she hadn't been as old as childhood's memory painted her.

  As she sliced the bacon, weighed out the butter and counted out the eggs, she asked: 'Where's your basket, lass?'

  'I haven't one with me. I'm sorry.'

  Bess sighed and said: 'Then I'll loan ye one, but make sure you bring it back,' she added, lining it with newspaper and carefully wrapping each egg. 'Did you remember to bring back your milk can?'

  I realised then that she didn't really know me at all, or that I wasn't a regular customer. 'Perhaps I could borrow one as well. And return it to you.'

  She gave me a hard look over the top of her spectacles, decided I was honest and said: 'I'll get the laddie to deliver to you every morning. Where is it you live?'

  I told her and she wrote it down on a scrap of paper. 'Solomon's Tower, did you say?' Suddenly her head jerked up and she stared at me. 'Been empty for years, it has. That's no place for a young lady like yourself to stay.'

  'I know it well. It's going to be my home.'

  She shook her head and muttered darkly, 'I wouldn't want any of mine living there.'

  And it seemed that nowhere was I to escape the sensational story of the murder not a mile away as, wrapping the bread, she added: 'Not after that poor lassie was strangled down by Grange. Respectable, clean-living she was too. I kenned her folk well. This was a decent safe place right out in the country before they built all these new houses.'

  Jeffries appeared, hovering at the door ready to carry my provisions.

  'The district is going to rack and ruin,' said Bess, including him in her observations, 'what with that circus down the road and all those queer-looking savages. A body's not safe in her bed any more.'

  I handed over a shilling, got some change and she said to Jeffries: 'You take care of the young lassie there, sir. She's just a slip of a bairn,' was the parting shot.

  I was thin and not very tall, with a small face and a head of yellow curls. But at thirty such flattery hinted that old Bess was in urgent need of new spectacles.

  As we turned towards Queen's Park the massive expanse of Arthur's Seat stretched high above our heads. Pappa had described it as a lion couchant, this Edinburgh landmark that was millions of years old before humans took their part on the earth's stage.

  The horses trotted through the gates of Queen's Park. Down the road to the left I glimpsed an untidy sprawl of caravans clustered around a high tent.

  Woodsmoke, cooking and the gamey smell of animals drifted towards us.

  'A circus!
' I said to Jeffries. 'Have you been to a performance yet, Mr Jeffries?'

  Jeffries shook his head. He looked mildly shocked at the suggestion, a disapproving sniff indicated his sentiments. I guessed that he felt it not only lowered the tone of the area, but was lèse-majesté too, situated in the park on the edge of the Royal residence of Holyrood.

  'How long is it staying?' I said anxiously.

  'It has been here for several weeks and there is no sign of it leaving.' His disapproving manner suggested that an immediate visit would be advisable. A return to magic childhood days of performing animals, acrobats and clowns. Another trip, like Bess's farm, down memory lane...

  Pappa used to take Emily and me if he had time and wasn't involved in solving some crime or other. To this day I could recall the bitter disappointment when, as so often happened, an outing planned with Pappa had to be cancelled at short notice or delegated to the long-suffering Mrs Brook.

  The carriage turned briskly on to the narrow road through Queen's Park, which led into Duddingston village. On our left, Samson's Ribs, the massive perpendicular rocks formed from basalt that had cooled into six-sided columns and pushed up from below the older, softer rocks surrounding the extinct volcano that had descended into recorded history as Arthur's Seat.

  And there, at the base of Samson's Ribs, was Solomon's Tower.

  At first glance invisible, a mere part of the foothills of that craggy mountainside, Pappa always said it didn't look like 'a house made by mortal hands'.

  While the earth cooled and the summit of Arthur's Seat was twice its present height, the site the Tower occupied would have been within the volcano; I saw how accurate that whimsical description had been since stones and mortar blended so skilfully into the rocky backdrop, as if it had naturally evolved from the prehistoric eruptions that shaped the city of Edinburgh.