"Ah, the entertainment. We mustn't forget that. Mrs Shaw's excellent playing and Mrs Kellar's long monologue."
"I'd heard it before. I thought she was particularly good at all those changes of voice."
"An excellent mimic."
Vince looked hard at him. "I didn't think you shared my enthusiasm. I'm afraid you were looking very bored and so was Mrs Shaw who seemed as embarrassed by her friend's performance as she was by her fulsome affection. We know why, now."
"Bad enough being in the same room with Kellar, dining at the same table with his wife, the dearest friend she had also betrayed. But let us leave Mrs Shaw now."
"Poor Mabel," said Vince."I keep thinking how dreadful the realisation must have been for her, how shattering. If she'd had the least idea, I'm sure she would never have given Mrs Shaw houseroom."
"I think she knew at Christmas."
"Then when she wrote to her sister, why didn't she say so in as many words?"
"Ah, that letter, Vince. Revealing all, which was precisely what it was meant to do."
Vince frowned. "But even the most forgiving of women . . . Her behaviour doesn't make sense."
"Oh yes, it does. Very good sense indeed. Think of the contents of that letter, Vince, and what they implied."
"I am thinking."
"Let's return to our charade of a dinner party. What else could Mabel Kellar do in the circumstances? Kellar has told her that Mrs Shaw is his mistress, she has borne him a child and he has set her up in a house in the New Town. What was to be gained by admitting that she knew? Divorce, or a scandal, would not bring her erring husband back to her. By ruining his chance of a knighthood, she also had a lot to lose, her social standing in society, for instance."
"True enough, Stepfather. Many women endure such an existence. Even knowing that their husbands, respectable men holding high positions in society, are leading double lives with a mistress and often an illegitimate child, they are in a cleft stick. A respectable marriage bestows on a wife a desirable place in society and if her husband falls, then she falls with him.
"What must have made it worse, unbearable for Mabel, was the knowledge that she had been deliberately deprived of finding solace in the comfort of motherhood, and by her own husband."
"Exactly," said Faro triumphantly. "So now you tell me, who had the best motive for murder that evening?"
"Mabel, of course," laughed Vince. "If she'd been the murdering kind she'd have stuck the carving knife in Kellar. I've always said that."
"So you have, so you have."
But ignoring his stepfather's gratified expression, Vince continued, "Ironic, isn't it. Poor Mabel. No wonder they wanted to get rid of her. Her continued devotion to them both must have been a source of embarrassment. Mabel, so gentle and loving. But murder, such a terrible step to take."
"To many desperate people, murder is the last resort and only terrible if they are found out. Within the police we are fully aware that husbands constantly murder wives, and t'other way round in our community, mostly for gain of some kind. Although our suspicions are aroused, we can rarely raise enough evidence to prove that a crime has been omitted."
Vince nodded in agreement. "I know from conversations I've had with other doctors that they often had strong suspicions that poison has been administered. The discreet and effective way of certain death, although alas, slow and often very painful, it can be diagnosed as food poisoning, or drain fever. But doctors are often hesitant and dare not bring a case against some respectable citizen, for fear of putting their own reputations into jeopardy."
"Aye, and many a timorous spouse ill-treated by husband or wife would commit murder — they do so in their hearts every passing hour — if they knew they could get away with it. The one deterrent is the indisputable evidence in the shape of a dead body, that cannot be conveniently spirited away."
"Not in Kellar's case. Who had better facilities for disposing of a corpse than Melville Kellar? He had a hundred unknowing accessories all ready and willing to help him dispose of the body beneath eager dissecting scalpels at Surgeons Hall. No body, no murder. Dear God, it must have seemed so easy, so foolproof."
"Ah now, Vince, I see you're thinking along the same lines as the murderer. So let's leave the dinner party now and consider what happened next morning. You visited Mrs Kellar and found her packing in readiness for a short visit to her sister at North Berwick."
Vince nodded. "Her behaviour was certainly agitated but not more so than might be expected in a wife who had decided to run away from her husband and had a train to catch," he added wryly.
"And after you left, she was seen by Mrs Flynn leaving the house, having had an altercation with Dr Kellar who was to set her down at the railway station."
"We know she never reached North Berwick," said Vince.
"And the Doctor didn't hear for a week, until a letter from Mrs Findlay-Cupar was found on her desk. This apparently had not been handed to Kellar by Mrs Flynn. Quite normal behaviour in the circumstances. Mrs Flynn said she didn't recognise the writing and it was addressed to the mistress personally."
Faro smiled at Vince. "That was very convenient. All communication between housekeeper and master was limited to notes left on the hall table regarding menus. Our murderer made very good use of the fact that Dr Kellar hated servants and avoided them at all times," he added thoughtfully.
"And then the clues to Mrs Kellar's murder began to appear. Her bloodstained fur cloak and the carving knife, which was reported missing to me by the maid Ina. This evidence would have appeared much sooner, of course, had it not been for the weather and the fact that they lay undetected under a heavy snowfall for longer than was intended."
Vince thought for a moment. "But she couldn't have been murdered on the train. There would have been far too much blood, commotion. Trains at that time are full of folk going home for dinner. No, no. That wouldn't work at all."
"What is your theory then?"
"You know that perfectly well, Stepfather. It's the only logical solution. Kellar never put her on the train at all. He offered to drive her to her sister's, murdered her in the carriage — "
"Hence the bloodstained upholstery," Faro interrupted, "Reported to me by Ina, via Mrs Flynn, but conveniently obliterated — if it ever existed — before I arrived. Go on, so what happened to the body?"
"He carried her under cover of darkness to the mortuary, cut her into more convenient pieces for distribution among his students," Vince added with a shudder.
"You're quite wrong there. Think again,Vince.Why should Kellar take the carving knife with him and murder his wife in his own carriage. Why should he use a knife at all, when he could have strangled her without difficulty and then disposed of her body in the dissecting room? The bloodstained cloak and knife were accessories to murder that we were meant to find, so was Mabel's bloodstained petticoat stuffed up the bedroom chimney. Think about that, Vince."
"Presumably he put it there hoping it would burn."
"And then he got very angry and complained to the servants when it smouldered and filled the room with smoke. Is that logical behaviour? The chimneys had been swept recently, the sweep was recalled and discovered the petticoat, exactly as he was meant to. Why should Kellar, knowing what was in the chimney and in his bedroom because he had put it there, deliberately bring attention to his own guilt?"
"The behaviour of a very scared man."
"Or the deliberate action of a very clever murderer."
Vince frowned. "I agree. There is something wrong here. It doesn't add up to what we know of Kellar."
"Correct. The answer is that he was speaking the truth. He hadn't the least idea of what was causing his chimney to smoke. As you've pointed out, there are too many inconsistencies here and I think, once again, we have to go back to that train journey."
"That's it," said Vince triumphantly. "The maid with the parcel at Longniddry. Of course."
Faro pointed to the travelling bag. "There is the final clu
e, lad, to what happened. The secret of the locked cupboard, you might call it, in Mrs Flynn's kitchen."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Stepfather, but I'm suitably intrigued, although I doubt whether Mrs Flynn will be pleased."
"You needn't concern yourself any further about Mrs Flynn."
"But — "
"You have my assurances of one thing. We will never see Mrs Flynn again."
"You mean — that she has been murdered too?" said Vince in horrified tones.
They were interrupted by a tap on the door and McQuinn looked in.
"The doctors have left now."
"Very well. Come along, Vince."
The nurse barred their way to the ward. "You must wait. Dr Kellar already has a visitor. I've just shown her in."
Faro sprang to his feet. "Mrs Findlay-Cupar?"
"That is so."
"Dear God., let's hope we're in time. Come along, McQuinn."
And, pushing past the startled nurse, Faro ran along the corridor and threw open the door of the ward where Kellar lay.
The woman who stood looking down on the injured man turned to face them. A woman who looked like a very faded watercolour of Mrs Findlay-Cupar. Faro heard Vince's horrified gasp from behind him.
"Mabel. Mabel! You're alive!"
Chapter 17
Hearing her name, Mabel Kellar ran to Vince, who took her in his arms. Looking across at his stepfather, he made a gesture of helpless bewilderment and led her over to a chair.
Sobbing, she turned to Faro, "I had to come — I had to come."
"Mabel Kellar, I am taking you into custody for the attempted murder of your husband, Melville Kellar. Anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence," said Faro sternly.
She looked at him wide-eyed. "So you think it was me."
"We know it was you."
Suddenly she noticed the travelling bag. She gave a little cry as Faro slipped open the locks. At first glance the bundle he withdrew resembled a tailor's dummy, but closer inspection revealed a padded tunic.
Faro held it up triumphantly. "Behold the earthly remains of Mrs Flynn."
Mabel Kellar was suddenly calm. "All right, I admit it. I wanted him dead. I wanted to punish them both. I could have forgiven him if he hadn't destroyed my baby. Then to give Eveline a child and to want to marry her. I wanted him to suffer as he'd made me suffer through the years. He even told me how easy it would be for him to commit murder and get away with it."
"I decided to beat him at his own game. It seemed so easy. Ever since Christmas I'd been planning my revenge in every detail and Melville played into my hands when he dismissed the last housekeeper. I would pretend to engage a new one, Mrs Flynn. Melville hardly glanced at references and I knew he would never notice the new housekeeper or that he never saw us together. All I had to do was to appear a few times in the kitchen as Mrs Flynn, for Ina's benefit.
"I sent the letter to Tiz. I only intended being Mrs Flynn for a week or so, the longer I kept up the pretext the more dangerous it became, especially as I would have no excuse to remain in the house once Mrs Flynn had worked her notice."
"All I had to do was disappear, leave some evidence indicating that I had been murdered and then Melville would be convicted and hanged for it."
"How did you intend to return from the dead?"
"I'd wait a couple of years and pretend to have had a street accident in London and lost my memory. Something like that would work very well," she said dismissively, while Faro and Vince exchanged helpless glances indicating her extraordinary naivety.
"I had you, Inspector Faro, to the house the night before so that you would be prepared for Mrs Flynn. All I needed were spectacles, a grey wig and a maid's cap. The toothache and swathing my face with scarves was a great help," she added proudly and then with a sigh, "No one will ever know how hard it was. I'm not a very good cook at the best of times but it was a nightmare trying to cook for a dinner party and have everything ready at the right time.
"But my plan was working. Next morning Melville took me to the North Berwick train and that was where everything went wrong."
She stopped and stared miserably out of the window as Faro took up the story.
"When you boarded the train, you were fortunate enough to find an empty first-class compartment. Quickly you took off the fur cloak and became Mrs Flynn, but without the padded tunic because it hampered swift movement. You also had in the bag some raw butcher's meat which you intended to use for dabbing the fur cloak. However, you were unlucky. Another passenger got in. Correct?"
Mrs Kellar nodded dully. "Yes, at Musselburgh. I decided I must get out at Longniddry and work in the waiting-room, praying that it would be empty. I didn't have a great deal of time if I was to catch the train back to Edinburgh." She giggled. "A few minutes, that's all I needed.
And then — "
"And then you had your worst bit of luck. You were seen leaving and the man on duty thought you were trying to sneak out without a ticket. When he stopped you, he noticed blood on your hands. While he went for water, you disappeared down the road."
She shook her head. "I only went fifty yards, hid round a corner and doubled back and over the railway bridge in time for the Edinburgh train. As we left the station, I waited in the corridor and hurled out the cloak and the knife. If it hadn't been for the snow ... I began watching the weather. It got worse and worse. And what if someone had decided to keep the cloak? Despite the stains it was valuable — and warm. What if they weren't discovered before Mrs Flynn had worked her notice."
She paused and laughed bitterly. "Notice? Melville never noticed me at all, living in the same house. Can you credit that? All he did was leave notes on the table for me. And I hadn't bargained for all that anxiety, those hours of terror when I thought my plan had failed. I couldn't believe that no one would arrest Melville after the cloak and the knife were handed in. It was then I decided on the petticoat.
"If that didn't work., then it would have to be poison. When the postman delivered Eveline's letter, it was like gift from heaven — or hell," she added savagely. "My troubles were over. I had been given the perfect reason for his suicide."
"That old pistol, he was very proud of it. I slipped into the bedroom and he was breathing deeply, still asleep, I thought. But as I fired, he opened his eyes, turned his head - oh dear God. He fell back against the pillow. But he wasn't dead.
"He was lying there bleeding to death. And in that moment, I knew how wicked I had been. I knew that I loved him and whatever he had done to me, I wanted him alive again. Especially now that Eveline didn't want him. He would need me again. I would be able to comfort him, prove what a wife's faithful love could be. He would never stray again, he would be so grateful to me for taking him back. And we would be happy," she added with a wistful sigh and then the tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Oh dear God, what had I done. I had killed him for nothing, nothing," she added pathetically.
"I must have been out of my mind. I rushed downstairs, got a basin and water — I think I fainted, because when I came to I was lying on the kitchen floor, the water spilt. I refilled it, ran upstairs — and he had gone, bleeding, terribly injured as he was, he had managed to get out of the house."
She stopped. "You know the rest." She looked at Faro. "I had some other awful moments, when you kept picking up my hair brushes. I was sure you guessed then and I thought Vince had recognised my voice last night."
"I did — or thought I did," said Vince.
With a sigh she stood up, "I'm ready to go with you, but — but I just wanted to see him — just once more."
She turned to Vince. "I still love him, even though I wanted my revenge. When I saw him lying dying I knew then that I had only destroyed myself." Staring across at the bed where Kellar lay, still and inert, she whispered, "May I kiss him goodbye before I go with you?"
Over her head, Vince nodded eagerly to Faro.
"All right, Mrs Kellar."
Ke
llar opened his eyes as she bent over him. "Mabel — Mabel is that you . . . ?" His voice was faint, far-off. "I thought you were Flynn."
She fell sobbing at his bedside. "Forgive me, forgive me — for loving you."
Kellar, bewildered, put out a hand and stroked her hair. "Mabel, you idiot," he whispered.
Faro and Vince stood by the window watching the motionless couple, the weeping woman whispering at her husband's bedside, holding his hand, his white bandaged face staring straight ahead.
At last, she dried her tears and said, "I'm ready to go now."
"Where are you taking her?" asked Kellar weakly. "Not jail. Oh, no, not until I've talked to Superintendent McIntosh. I've sent for him, he should be here directly." And in a voice gathering strength, "Please leave us alone, Faro."
They joined McQuinn in the corridor and a few minutes later the Superintendent stormed along and, with a face like thunder, motioned Faro towards the waiting-room.
"Mind leaving us, Dr Laurie?" When the door closed, McIntosh sat down and said. "All right, Faro. Now let's have your version of what all this is about." He listened grimly and at the end said, "I'm inclined to agree with your story. But Kellar tells me in confidence that he tried to commit suicide for personal reasons, especially since his wife had gone off and left him."
It was Faro's turn to look amazed.
"For the record this will go down as an accident with an old pistol he was priming."
"What about all the evidence, the cloak and the knife, for instance?"
"It will be filed away under mysteries unsolved."
"And Mrs Flynn?"
"The housekeeper? Oh, she disappeared without leaving a forwarding address. Not unusual where a servant's working notice."
Faro decided to say nothing of the contents of the travelling bag.
"As for that rather simple maid, we would never call her to give evidence."
There was a short interval before Faro spoke. "This is a miscarriage of justice, you understand that, sir, don't you," he said severely. "And you are contributing to it."
McIntosh grinned. "Of course. But we take our choice and frankly I'd rather distort the truth a little than have the scandal of the Kellar affair, his wife's imprisonment with the inevitable repercussions on the honour of the Edinburgh City Police, made public."
Deadly Beloved (An Inspector Faro Mystery No.3) Page 17
