The Darkness Within

by Alanna Knight

  He paused for breath and Faro asked: ‘Why didn’t you tell us this story when Mr Smith came to Kirkwall?’

  Sven said: ‘I could not, because she said he was there. As she had not been washed up, he would not believe she drowned and as the yacht was under his orders, he guessed she had swum ashore and would try to get to Kirkwall and escape back to Ireland.’ He paused for breath. ‘And so I made a promise to look after her.’

  ‘And how were you to do that?’ Faro asked.

  ‘She was a helpless, very sweet girl and I was sorry for her predicament.’ He smiled at the memory and Rose glancing quickly at Emily saw her expression harden. ‘She could hardly wear my clothes, so I went to a second-hand shop in Kirkwall and bought her a dress and a cloak, just something to keep her warm.’ He shrugged. ‘Then there was another problem. I could not keep her in my cottage since the lady who cleans and does my laundry would discover her, so I had to put her into the hotel.’

  Which made sense of Millie’s reported gossip that the Norwegian was a cross-dresser, queer too, but that he might be courting a lass he visited in the hotel, as he continued: ‘I had enough in my savings for a ticket to the mainland and then she could make her way across to Ireland.’

  ‘How was she to do this? Get to Ireland without money?’ Emily asked sharply.

  He shrugged. ‘She said there were people in Glasgow, friends of her mother, very rich noble people who she thought would help her.’

  There was a slight pause as the listeners tried to digest this extraordinary story.

  Then Emily said, ‘Poor woman. How awful. Where is she now?’

  Again, Sven shrugged. ‘I haven’t the least idea. Safely home again, I hope. Two days before we left,’ he took a deep breath and looked at them, ‘that business I had in Kirkwall, the day when I didn’t wait for Magnus and Meg’ – there was a collective shiver as they remembered the terror of the sea cave – ‘I had to go to the bank, draw out my savings, go to the shipping office.’

  Jack leant across the table and said sharply: ‘You surely realise that the authorities should have been told, that they were looking for a floating corpse when the lady was still alive.’

  ‘I am afraid that slipped my mind. Only her safety, getting away, seemed important.’

  Jack gave an exclamation of annoyance. ‘Then Orkney police must be told immediately and you will be required to sign a statement that she is still alive.’

  ‘I shall do so gladly when I return.’

  ‘They might want it sooner than that.’

  Faro had been very quiet, now he asked: ‘What about Mr Smith and his accident, falling into the sea in Kirkwall? Did that happen before your Miss Minton left?’

  Sven sighed. ‘Yes. And that was terrible. He was not convinced that she had drowned. He had rightly guessed that she had swum ashore and that someone was hiding her. So he came to Kirkwall to look for her.’ He paused and looked at Faro. ‘I expect he was desperate and thought you might know something, that having been a policeman, sir, you might be able to advise him, give him help in tracing her whereabouts—’

  That threw some light on the strange interview with Mr Smith as Sven went on: ‘He saw her in the hotel – it was the evening he had agreed to see you, sir. She was terrified because the ship was due to leave that night and he threatened to have bad things happen to her mother if she would not come back to the yacht with him, so she agreed to meet him near the quay.’

  He paused and frowned. ‘She tried to reason with him but he went on … er, making improper advances. He would not let go. She struggled free and ran away. He followed. Another struggle and he fell into the water. I had promised to meet her with some money. Then she told me what had happened. She was terrified.’

  He paused and Faro asked: ‘What did she tell you about Mr Smith?’

  ‘Very little. Just that he was a millionaire and very powerful in Europe, his real name was known the world over and he had many influential friends.’

  Faro and Jack exchanged glances. This account of Miss Minton’s encounter with Mr Smith and his accidental fall into the sea did not fit with the recovery of his body. All his valuables, his gold watch and signet ring were intact, but his wallet was empty with no papers to identify him and no money. They both had the same thought, a certainty.

  Someone had helped this girl to kill him. They looked at Sven.

  ‘What was she like?’ Emily asked. ‘How old was she?’

  He smiled. ‘Young, I am not very good at guessing ladies’ ages but I would say not as old as you.’ Emily managed to conceal that made her wince. ‘Not much older than Miss Alice, in her twenties, and not so pretty,’ he added shyly.

  Sven had left them a lot to think about, especially Faro and Jack, who were the main ones concerned. Jack, now aware of the reason why Mr Smith had failed to turn up for supper, while both he and Faro guessed that he had been murdered. They could inform the Orkney authorities, but how were they to trace Miss Lindsay Minton, the prime suspect, who was probably in southern Ireland by now?

  And then there was the royal yacht anchored at Yesnaby. They would not want Mr Smith’s murder and his real identity to be linked to them. The King would not be pleased at all, especially if Mr Smith was the alias of the millionaire he had rented it to.

  They could watch the newspapers’ report on some person of note and see if the date coincided.

  What should they do meanwhile? Both felt that as policemen they should pass on this information, which they did not doubt would be hastily filed away by higher authorities preferring to regard the incident as an unfortunate accident and Mr Smith’s unfortunate demise as regrettable.

  Jack shuddered. ‘I’m glad it’s none of our business. Let them sort it out. If we are called, and I sincerely hope not, then Sven here will have to give evidence.’ He had decided there was much to be admired in this young man who had the makings of an excellent policeman: the soul of discretion, albeit with a lamentable weakness for rescuing damsels in distress.

  ‘We could do with a lot more like him in the force.’ To which statement Faro reminded him: ‘Let’s not forget that he was also an accessory to Mr Smith’s murder.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  After Sven’s astonishing revelations, they settled down to have a holiday to enjoy. There were no problems; the weather stayed fine for Meg to show Magnus her favourite places on Arthur’s Seat, accompanied always by Thane; Jack went to work as usual, and with no calls as yet on her professional life as a lady investigator, Rose took up the reins of domesticity again, happy to go shopping in Princes Street with her sister and have long walks with Faro when he was not engaged in making copious notes, mainly, she guessed, recording the Yesnaby visit and his encounter with the late Mr Smith.

  Once a policeman, she thought, always a policeman, when they put their investigative heads together to see what they could make of the murder of Mr Smith, and they continued to be haunted by the unsolved mysteries from Orkney that refused to be banished, despite their resolve to let sleeping or dead bodies lie – and that included the story Miss Minton had told Sven. Perhaps that was not quite all the truth, and they decided that Sven must have been severely infatuated to have dug deep into his savings to assist her escape.

  Having shopped with Magnus and made enquiries about the possibility of Fettes for his further education, Emily had a new anxiety. Sven was spending a little too much time with Alice, to her dismay proving the rumour that he was attractive to young girls. The remark he had made about Miss Minton not being as old as Emily still stung, and she was being forced to recognise the end of her fantasy future with Sven.

  She had tried in vain to get to know Alice, who when she was not with Sven seemed content to sit in a corner and read a book or a magazine for hours on end. She declined shopping expeditions, which Emily dismissed as embarrassment at having no money. She went for walks as far as Duddingston Loch with Sven but had no interest in any of the family activities. A difficult guest to entertain, ques
tioned about her life in Aberdeen, the response was a shrug. No, she hadn’t any siblings, she was an only child. Her crofter father had died when she was very small and she had no memory of him. There were just the two of them all these years living alone, her mother had also been a schoolteacher who had married beneath her, and was abandoned by her family.

  Emily shook her head and said to Rose: ‘I don’t know what to do with her. What has happened to all that animation she had when she arrived in Yesnaby? Edinburgh has no attractions for her, she’s just bored, and restless too.’ She shrugged. ‘I can’t explain it, it is as though she’s just waiting for something to happen.’

  With a family of different ages and different interests, a routine had been set by Rose and Sadie. The day began at seven when Sadie came downstairs and prepared breakfast, a large pot of porridge. Jack and Rose then appeared and Jack departed promptly at eight. Sven and the two children were next, then Emily, seizing the chance of that vast poster bed to herself, took the luxury of what she called a long lie. As for Alice, she didn’t like porridge – strange they thought for a crofter’s daughter – and sometimes did not appear until midday.

  Faro was the earliest riser, having reverted to his early life as an Edinburgh policeman with a brisk walk before breakfast, as he put it: ‘before the air was breathed’. Each morning he would set off for the Radical Road on Salisbury Crags. Built in 1822 as work for the unemployed weavers, it provided a magnificent view over the often still sleeping city.

  Whatever went on in the rest of the world, or with other people who lived in the area, Arthur’s Seat was unchanging and obeyed no human law, governed only by the passing seasons. That offered a curious kind of comfort, even on the bad days that life had thrown in Faro’s way.

  The only firm rule was that whatever they did during the day, all met together in the kitchen for supper prepared by Sadie, and notice was to be given to her if there was any change to this plan.

  As the days slipped by and the weather held, there was a picnic to Portobello, very fashionable and popular as Edinburgh’s beach resort. This event was hugely enjoyed by the two children, armed with buckets and spades and the promise of ice cream. It made Rose decide that their family holiday was proving a great success, and it was to be made even greater by the arrival of another visitor

  One afternoon, Rose opened the door to be greeted by an elegant lady, tall and slender, whose beauty was undimmed since their last meeting fifteen years ago. She had bright auburn hair and green eyes, and as she smiled, she reached out her arms and Rose hugged her delightedly.

  Imogen Crowe had arrived

  Here she was, following Rose into the kitchen dressed in the height of fashion that Emily had seen only in Jenners’ windows in Princes Street.

  As they embraced, Imogen laughed. Yes, she had kept it a secret. She wanted to surprise Faro, who at that point walked in from the garden. And surprise him she certainly did – although, he remarked later, a shock might have been nearer the mark.

  Seated at the table, holding hands together, she said that having this conference in York next week, she could take the train there from Edinburgh. Sure now, wasn’t Faro always going on about her not being part of the family and this was the great chance to meet up with them. So here she was and them sitting there grinning like apes, delighted to see her.

  A great fuss was made by all, and Rose said that as Alice was about to leave there would be a bedroom for Imogen. That was not quite what Faro had in mind.

  ‘She will share my room,’ he said firmly and no one batted an eyelid.

  As soon as they were alone, no easy matter to achieve in that now overcrowded household, walking on the hill, Imogen took his arm and told him she was quite enraptured by his lovely family.

  He put an arm around her waist. ‘It could be yours too, Imo darling. You know that. You just have to say the word I’ve been waiting to hear for years now.’ She swept him a fond glance and sighed.

  ‘I may be doing just that, Faro darlin’. I’m sorely tempted. Now that I am free to travel in your country, maybe it would be a good place to settle down. Edinburgh is all you have said it would be, if we could find a place of our own … The Tower is grand, very imposing and historic, but I would want something a little more modern,’ she sighed, ‘like one of those fine houses in the New Town.’

  Their walk was interrupted by Meg and Magnus with Thane, who caught up with them, closely followed by Sven and Alice. Introductions made, they returned to the Tower, and Imogen whispered: ‘Do I detect romance in the air? Those two have the very makings of childhood sweethearts.’

  Faro couldn’t have agreed more as she went on: ‘And that other pair, Alice and that young fellow, Sven, don’t you think there’s something there? They have the look of sweethearts.’

  Faro laughed. ‘What a matchmaker you are, Imo, worse than my mother.’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘Very well and, I have to say, she will be furious at not coming with us after all and meeting you.’

  Imogen laughed. ‘She has hopes of me making an honest man of you, Faro.’ And her attention drawn again to the couples heading towards the Tower: ‘Tell me about that girl.’ So Faro explained the Yesnaby connection and how she had kept in touch with Erland.

  Imogen sighed. ‘She’s a beauty, right enough. I’m sure I’ve met someone like her but I can’t think where.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe all lovely young girls look alike when you get to my age.’

  Faro laughed. ‘And you look about twenty-five.’

  ‘Flattery will get you nowhere, Faro.’

  ‘I know, my dear, but I keep hoping.’

  She found Rose and Emily in the guest bedroom and as she arranged her hair in the dressing-table mirror, they were very complimentary about her dress and the small amount of luggage she carried.

  She laughed. ‘With engagements all over the place, you soon learn the trick of travelling light.’

  As she stood up, Emily said: ‘You have such a tiny waist.’

  ‘And a big bosom and a bustle. It’s what the designers call the fashionable S shape for ladies. Doubtless invented by men!’ And touching her waist, ‘The answer to this is a very tight corset.’

  Both Rose and Emily groaned and she smiled. ‘Don’t do it, if you don’t have to. I can tell you it’s beastly and uncomfortable, but I only wear it for those special occasions when I am expected to appear not only as an authoress, but as the picture of fashion. You two are fine as you are.’

  Then to Emily, pointing to the necklaces hanging by the window, ‘You have some nice pieces there. But what is that large pendant?’ She didn’t add what she was thinking, that it was too ornate and rather ugly to go with any fashionable dress.

  As Emily told her that this was the Yesnaby Jewel, a family heirloom, very old and priceless, Imogen exclaimed, ‘Shouldn’t it be in a safe somewhere, isn’t it risky just hanging there?’

  ‘After I mislaid it in Yesnaby and found it again, I wasn’t going to let it out of my sight so I decided to bring it to Edinburgh and have it valued.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m a bit careless about possessions like jewellery, I’m afraid. Never have much call for them in Yesnaby.’

  Jewellery was also on Faro’s mind just then. Not the Yesnaby Jewel but a ring for his love. Neither engagement, nor wedding ring, alas, which he would have preferred and, given time, he hoped might come to pass, but a more modest precious stone.

  He knew exactly where to find what he was looking for. Not far distant there was an old Jew who kept such a shop. Faro had known Mr Jacob for years and knew that he could be trusted on such matters.

  He made his way down to the Pleasance. The shop was still there and so was an older Mr Jacob, who greeted Faro warmly. They had done business together through the years, both of a personal nature and for the police.

  As the trays of rings were set before him, Mr Jacob was interested in how long Faro was to be staying and where he was living at present.

  When Faro said S
olomon’s Tower and that he had come down with his family from Yesnaby in Orkney where his mother still lived, the old man’s eyes widened.

  ‘Now that is a coincidence, Mr Faro. Only yesterday I had a lady from Orkney with a piece she wished to have valued. It was very large, very old and I could see even at first glance that it was also very valuable. I needed no eyeglass to see that the jewels were real. I asked where she had come by such a piece and she said it was a family heirloom and she wished to know what it was worth.

  Faro smiled. So Emily had already been in with the Yesnaby Jewel, as Mr Jacobs continued, ‘I shook my head and said it was priceless. She was clearly upset by this and asked was it worth a thousand pounds. I said much more than that.

  ‘She thought for a moment and said would I buy it, give her a thousand pounds for it. I had to tell her that I did not keep that amount of money in my shop and not even my bank account could rise to such a sum. Besides, I doubted if any of my customers would wish to buy it. She wasn’t very pleased, said she needed the money now, picked it up and stormed out of the shop.’ He sighed. ‘I was sorry to have disappointed her, such a lovely young woman in financial difficulties.’

  Faro returned to the Tower, baffled and extremely concerned about Emily who, Rose said, had gone with Imogen on a picnic to Portobello where the children had seen a notice that there was to be a sandcastle competition that they were eager to enter.