Blood Line: An Inspector Faro Mystery

by Alanna Knight

  'Eight murders!' Sir Eric threw down his pen violently, an impatient gesture betraying the first emotion he had shown so far. 'Haven't you the least idea how many men - thousands, tens of thousands - I have ordered to certain death in the field in my years of army command - and you expect me to have feelings of guilt about a mere eight?'

  'In the battlefield you were fighting against an enemy,' Faro reminded him.

  'Is that so? Are not all men, eight or eighty thousand, composed of the same flesh and blood, capable of the same emotions, of feeling the same joy and pain? Besides,' he went on hurriedly, 'what do you think these men were but enemies of the Queen?'

  'One of them happened to be my father.'

  Sir Eric sighed. 'Magnus Faro was a fine fellow, one of the best who ever lived. I was sadder about Magnus than almost anyone I have ever known. Truly sorry, Jeremy.'

  'Then I'm afraid you'll be a great deal sorrier when I do my duty to my Queen and country and arrest you as an accessory to murder.'

  'You won't do that, Jeremy.'

  'It is my intention, and who will stop me?'

  'I will, lad,' said Sir Eric sadly. 'It is my intention that you are to be put under immediate restraint.'

  Faro looked over his shoulder. Forster had entered with three other civilians. Of equal stature, they bore unmistakable signs of having served an apprenticeship in the wrestling ring. He braced himself. He was hopelessly outnumbered but he wouldn't go down without a fight. In a tight comer, he could give a good account of himself, for there were some very devious tricks he had learned in his time with the Edinburgh City Police calculated to throw even strong men off guard.

  'Take him,' said Sir Eric tonelessly.

  As they pinioned his arms to his sides, Faro said, 'Have you another accident in mind for me? I hope it's a convincing one this time.'

  'You may rest assured on that score, Jeremy. We are very efficient in that department.'

  'So I've observed. Tell me one thing, Sir Eric'

  'With pleasure, my boy.'

  'You have been like a father to me, you supported my mother and I believe you have a certain fondness for her. You knew that I was in danger. How did you reconcile your conscience with giving orders that I was also to be disposed of, by an "accidental" fall of rock?'

  Sir Eric regarded him steadily. 'You will keep forgetting that I am a soldier first and foremost, lad. Many times in my life I have had to obey orders, as you are doing now, because they were given by the highest in the land, Her Majesty the Queen herself. As you must have experienced many times yourself, doing one's duty can be unpleasant, sometimes it can even wring a man's heart.'

  He stood up. 'We are ready to leave now.'

  'Where is Lucille?'

  'Lucille should now be at sea on her way back to Orkney. When I suspected that you were on the right track and might arrive at any hour, full of accusations, I thought it best to terminate my niece's visit. Especially as the foolish girl seems to imagine she's in love with you.'

  'Does she know anything of all this?'

  'Of course not. She's a silly romantic girl.' He looked at Faro and that moment's compassion, more than any threats, chilled him to the heart. 'I'm sorry, I hope you don't reciprocate her feelings because I'm afraid you are unlikely ever to meet again.'

  'Tell me, where did the plot to kidnap my two daughters fit into the plan? Was that just to scare me off too?'

  Sir Eric shrugged. 'There never was any plot to kidnap your little girls, Jeremy. Their abduction that night was, I suspect, just what it appeared to be. Another attempted child abduction, common enough in the sordid annals of Edinburgh's underworld.'

  He signalled to the four silent men. 'You know what to do.'

  Faro was led by his captors, arms held firmly but unobtrusively, downstairs to a carriage waiting at the open door leading to the empty quadrangle. There was no point in crying out - nor any opportunity to do so - as he was bundled inside.

  The window blinds had been drawn and one of the men tied his hands together behind his back while another blindfolded him. He cursed them roundly, realising that he was to be executed like a trussed fowl instead of being despatched, as he had always imagined, in a straight fight to the death.

  The carriage moved off. They were travelling down the steep High Street. It was a road he had travelled often enough in his twenty years, strange that this was to be the very last time. Time, he thought, had almost ceased to exist for him. He had been denied even the condemned man's last requests, that he might say farewell to his mother, to Rose and Emily and to Vince. Especially Vince, dearer to him than any man alive, and very nearly his own son.

  At last the carriage stopped. He was helped out and felt the warmth of summer sunshine on his face. Savouring that moment of finality, he took a deep breath before being led forward, warned of a step and propelled through a succession of stone corridors.

  Were they going to put him in some miserable dungeon and leave him there to die? At least he was glad there was no resemblance to the creaking wooden floors of East House Asylum. They meant that he should have a less lingering end than poor Peter Dowie.

  He realised that stone had given way to polished marble, for once his injured ankle, unused to such speed, slipped and only his jailers' support kept him from falling. Around him the echoes signified space, indoor space for there was no longer summer warmth or birdsong. He had the impression of a large room, the creaking of doors opening and closing, sounds of breathing, the clank of arms, as if the doors were guarded. Where in God's name had they taken him?

  'Stand there.'

  He did as he was told, wishing he could identify his place of execution. A moment later, the blindfold was removed. The large room was familiar. He was in the Palace of Holyroodhouse. He had been here before with the Edinburgh City Police during an attempted break in.

  A tall man, grey haired, stood with his back to the window in the manner of one who does not wish to be recognised. A moment later, Sir Eric entered a little breathlessly, glanced at the document handed to him by the silent man and walked over to Faro.

  'Got you here safely, eh, Jeremy.' He smiled. 'Sorry to keep you waiting.'

  Sir Eric motioned towards the handsome desk across the room, its only adornment an inkwell, sand and somewhat ironically a service revolver.

  'Sit down, dear boy.' And walking across the room he put a paper in front of him. 'I'm afraid we will have to ask you to sign the Official Secrets Act, saying that you will not divulge anything that has been said between these walls or anything remotely connected with the recent disturbances in Red River . . . ''And emphatically nothing regarding the possibility of a child's coffin being hidden in the walls of Edinburgh Castle,' boomed the other voice across the floor.

  Faro began to read the document. 'You can believe us, it's all there as stated. Nothing else, nothing more.'

  Faro looked up at Sir Eric. 'And what if I refuse?'

  'I don't think you should, dear lad. Your freedom is in peril.'

  'And what about my immortal soul, Sir Eric? Or maybe such matters are unimportant to you.'

  Faro turned and addressed himself to the tall man, who seemed anxious to remain in the background despite his air of authority. 'I have done no wrong, sir. My only interest is and will continue to be to do my duty by my profession, by detecting crime and bringing criminals to justice. In such matters, I refuse to be compromised. And I'm not interested in being bought by anyone, not even the Queen herself.'

  'Your attitude is commendable, but in the present circumstances inadvisable, very inadvisable,' said Sir Eric.

  'You said there would be no difficulties, that he would sign. Get him to do so, dammit. We've wasted enough time,' said the other man.

  Ignoring the interruption, Faro asked again, 'And if I refuse?'

  Smiling beyond him, Sir Eric nodded, 'You had better ask Superintendent Mackintosh about that.'

  Hampered by his bound hands, Faro swung round and came face to face with his
superior officer, who had entered unobserved. Faro marvelled that the Superintendent, his one hope of survival, had come to his rescue without question and with remarkable speed. Did he have some plan for his escape?

  'If you refuse, Faro, then I can tell you exactly what will happen,' said Mackintosh heavily. 'You will be dismissed from the Edinburgh City Police.'

  There was a moment's silence, of disbelief, on Faro's part before he replied, 'So you are in this too. I might have guessed,' he added bitterly.

  Mackintosh merely shook his head, looked at the other two men and made a helpless gesture.

  'You convince him, Mackintosh,' said Sir Eric.

  'Listen to me, Faro. Your loyalty to the Force does you proud. But if you don't do as they wish, I'm afraid, official sources will make it quite difficult for anyone to employ you - or your stepson, Dr Laurie, of whom Kellar is giving us such excellent reports. He has the makings of a brilliant career but your refusal to co-operate will destroy him too, especially as he has been concerned in your investigations.'

  Faro saw all too plainly what his refusal meant. That the only place he could live in future would be in the ranks of the criminals themselves. What sort of life was that for him? But worse, much worse for Vince, at the beginning of his professional life, whose dream was to be Queen's Physician one day.

  'If you are still in any doubt, take a look out of the window,' said Sir Eric. 'Oh, for heaven's sake, do untie him. Inspector Faro is a man of honour. He won't do anything desperate. You have my assurance on that.'

  Untied, Faro left his chair, with one fleeting look at the service revolver, and the ardent wish he could prove Sir Eric wrong in the matter of chivalry. Moving stiffly to the window, he found that the room overlooked the private grounds of the Palace of Holyroodhouse.

  And there was the last sight he expected on this earth: his mother, Vince, Rose and Emily walking together across the grass.

  Brought no doubt just to make sure that I'd sign, he was about to remark bitterly, when he suddenly observed that all four of his family were wearing their very best clothes. They were all looking very happy and excited, especially Rose and Emily, who turned constantly towards a door directly below the window.

  A moment later, he knew the reason why. A small plump woman, plain and middle-aged, in a purple satin gown, had emerged. A sudden breeze caught at the streamers on her widow's cap and as she half turned against it, the sunlight flashed on diamonds and emeralds, and touched the Gartar ribbon across her breast.

  He watched his mother and the girls curtsy, Vince bow elegantly.

  'If you need any further convincing, dear lad,' said Sir Eric at his side, 'HM is in it too.' And dipping the pen into the inkwell, 'Now, are you ready?'

  The presence of his family outside removed any further hopes of escape and retaliation. Reluctantly he took up the document, added his signature, and as Sir Eric sanded it Faro indicated the revolver.

  'Was that the alternative?'

  'Think no more about it, dear lad. That is all behind us now.'

  'And what if I had still refused to sign, after all these pressures put upon me and upon my family. What then?'

  'A mere precaution - I've told you.'

  'But if it had to be used,' Faro insisted.

  Sir Eric shook his head. 'Then that would have lain very heavily upon my conscience. Disposing of you, and the sorrow it would have caused to one who is also dear to me.'

  'But you would have done it.'

  'Oh yes indeed. For I am as fiercely loyal to my duty to the Queen and all I hold dear as you are to dispensing justice.' He looked at him steadily and said quietly, 'If necessary I would have pulled the trigger myself. Come now, Superintendent, you will accompany us.'

  And together, they marched with Faro across the room to the tall man who had listened with an expressionless face.

  'You know Mr Gladstone, of course.' And handing the rolled document to the elder statesman, he said, 'And now, Prime Minister, shall we join the ladies?' And to Faro, 'You too, lad. Her Majesty has commanded that you and your family be presented.'

  ####

  There are fifteen titles in the Inspector Faro series available from bookstores and on www.amazon.co.uk. Available on Kindle:

  Enter Second Murderer

  Bloodline

  Deadly Beloved

  Killing Cousins

  A Quiet Death

  To Kill A Queen

  Also available on Kindle in the Rose McQuinn series:

  The Inspector’s Daughter

  Dangerous Pursuits

  The Inspector’s Daughter

  Connect with Alanna online:

  Author's homepage:http://www.alannaknight.com