The Final Enemy. An Inspector Faro Mystery No.12.

by Alanna Knight

  'But I do love him - still, to distraction,' was the agitated reply, ‘I cannot bear it, that we are never to meet again.'

  'Dearest girl, I sympathise. I know only too well what you are suffering. I have spent most of my life pining for my lost love, my dearest husband whom I will never see again on this earth. But you are young still and you must be practical and think of the scandal, I implore you. Think of what it could do.'

  There was a slight pause followed by a warning. 'And if Gustav ever had an inkling, the faintest idea, that the child is not his, then you would have thrown away your kingdom. Please, my dear, dismiss this madness from your mind.'

  Julian had crept away silently and he had never told a living soul. He was often haunted by the poignant scene and a mystery which had intrigued him over the years.

  Indeed, he had been very tempted to tell Faro. He was the very man. The detective had lots of secret information concerning members of the royal family, for in his time Faro had had many dealings with Her Majesty. Yes, indeed, he could well be the man to know the identity of the father of Amelie's child.

  It could not be Kaiser Wilhelm of course, Julian decided. But it might have been one of the royals Amelie had met during a visit to Edinburgh the year before George was born.

  Whoever he was, good luck to him, for the outcome of that love affair had been a child who had saved Amelie's life and given a future to Luxoria.

  Faro was still feeling very out of sorts as the Arles carriage trotted briskly through the mists of Perthshire, the dramatic autumn colours having faded with alarming suddenness into the more normal gloom of monotone Highland drizzle. He realised he was paying dearly for allowing himself to be so recklessly indulged by Sir Julian's lavish hospitality, which included, he decided wryly, as much wine as he suspected was consumed over an entire month by Vince and Olivia entertaining dinner guests at Sheridan Place.

  Excellent vintage no doubt, but it had shot his powers of clear thought to blazes, completely dulled his wits. And he desperately needed to think.

  Now that George's identity had been revealed, he remembered the scene in the drive with the two boys and one bodyguard. The missing bodyguard was in all probability George's, the man who came to his room and wished to tell him something before his speech that evening.

  'A matter of life and death.'

  He felt sickened with remorse. Doubtless the bodyguard wished to confide some vital matter concerning Luxoria. Luxoria had always meant Amelie, now it also stood for George.

  He groaned out loud. Perhaps he could have saved the man's life too. An accident, falling out of a window indeed! It was too banal for serious consideration. Doubtless that was why Inspector Crane was on the scene so smartly.

  Would he ever forgive himself for not appearing just five minutes late on the platform in the dining hall at Glenatholl?

  Matters were serious enough without this new incident, he thought, remembering Julian's first-hand account of political unrest in Luxoria, which even before Amelie's visit to East Lothian had been fast deteriorating towards revolution. What those intervening years had been like for her he did not care to imagine, or the situation which had led, as Julian hinted, to her desperate consideration of abandoning centuries of independence and placing Luxoria under Germany's protection. As Julian had suggested, this was doubtless the reason for her attempted assassination at her husband's instigation.

  In the light of his present knowledge, Faro longed for an excuse to arrive at Glenatholl, see the lad again, talk to him, even ask some questions. Was he aware that his mother might no longer be alive. How much had they told him of her 'accident'?

  The picture of his tears, of being consoled on the drive by his companion and the other bodyguard shouting that it was forbidden would remain etched in Faro's mind forever. But sense reasserted itself over emotion, as it had done throughout his life. Whatever happened, the last person who must ever know the true facts regarding his birth was Prince George of Luxoria.

  As the carriage approached the railway station through the streets of Perth, being unable to spot a newspaper vendor was a further frustration and anxiety. Faro wanted only to be back in Edinburgh as quickly as possible for a bulletin regarding Amelie's condition. Inactive and helpless, patiently awaiting developments had never been a strongpoint in his character or a virtue to number among his nobler characteristics.

  Chapter 7

  The carriage set him down in the station forecourt in good time for the Edinburgh train. Walking briskly back and forth along the platform to ward off the chill east wind, he observed a stationary railway carriage on a siding, seemingly deserted and without any engine in sight. Faro had no difficulty in recognising it, despite the lack of any distinguishing marks, as the royal carriage which would be attached to a normal service train between Ballater and England. With no longer the least nostalgia for having often sat in that carriage during his service with Edinburgh City Police en route for Balmoral, he watched curiously as a figure descended and quickly disappeared, hidden by the other side of the platform.

  Faro wondered idly which member of the royal family was on an incognito visit in the neighbourhood. The Edinburgh train steamed into the station and Faro was about to climb aboard when a figure rushed panting on to the platform, recognisable as the man he had seen leaving the stationary royal carriage.

  The guard was waiting to wave his flag, and obligingly holding the door open for the latecomer, Faro's foot was on the step when he was taken aback to discover that instead of a grateful acceptance of his help, the man seized him round the waist and dragged him bodily back on to the platform.

  'What on earth? What do you think you are doing? Release me at once!'

  'Inspector Faro, is it not?' gasped the man.

  'It is indeed, if it's any of your business. Now kindly allow me to board the train.'

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw the guard with the whistle at his lips, the flag in readiness. His mouth had dropped open and he looked like a man who felt he ought to intervene but didn't quite know the right words or gestures required. However, Faro's assailant, for such he seemed, nodded briefly in his direction and at the same time produced a card and thrust it before Faro.

  Faro groaned. He had seen it before many times. It bore the royal signature. The code-word uttered at the same instant brought his immediate attention to Her Majesty the Queen's command.

  'You do understand, sir. Bear with me, if you please. I will explain and you can catch another train. I assure you this is of the utmost importance.'

  And still holding Faro's arm firmly, as if instant flight was intended, he nodded again to the guard who, thankful that his intervention was not required, blew his whistle. Faro watched helplessly as the train steamed out of the station without him, and with an exasperated gesture pulled his arm free of the man's grip.

  'I am very sorry, sir. Captain Reece, at your service.' And with a respectful bow. 'Now if you will be so good as to follow me, I will explain. My carriage is outside.'

  So it wasn't to be the royal train to Ballater, after all. That was a relief, thought Faro. Following Reece out of the station, he demanded angrily, 'What in hell's name is all this about? Perhaps you are unaware that I am now retired. And that means I am no longer responsible for taking care of Her Majesty's affairs. There are other senior detectives and here in Perth I understand there is an excellent police force, who are perfectly adequate to deal with such matters.'

  Reece did not appear to be listening. Ushered into the carriage in the forecourt, Faro consulted his watch impatiently. 'Will this take long?' he demanded. 'The next train is in two hours' time and I should like to be on it. There are urgent matters in Edinburgh requiring my immediate attention.'

  Reece stared out of the window, craning his neck, a gesture which suggested even to the uninitiated that he feared they were being followed.

  'Captain Reece, I am addressing you. Have the goodness to give me your attention.'

  With a sigh,
Reece sat back. 'I will do my best to accommodate you, Inspector, but once I tell you what has happened, perhaps you will change your mind.'

  The man's sombre manner was unmistakable. The fact of his sudden emergence from the royal carriage awaiting in the railway siding suggested a crisis.

  ‘Her Majesty -?’ Faro began.

  Reece shook his head. 'No. Her Majesty is in no danger.'

  'May I ask then where you are taking me?' Faro looked out of the window. The carriage had turned into a minor road familiar from landmarks on the route he had travelled earlier.

  'We are going to Glenatholl College, Inspector.'

  'Glenatholl, for heaven's sake!'

  'No!' was the solemn reply. 'For Her Majesty's sake.'

  Such flippancy further angered Faro. 'Indeed. Could I not have been informed of what was the trouble on my recent visit? It would have helped considerably with my arrangements.'

  'Helped, sir.' Reece laughed shortly. 'You couldn't have helped even yesterday. It hadn't happened yesterday.'

  'What hadn't happened?'

  'Since you left there has been a kidnapping. One of the pupils was kidnapped last night.'

  The stationary railway carriage in the siding at Perth suddenly slotted into place. 'A royal pupil?'

  'Yes indeed, sir. We were here in readiness to escort him to Balmoral when it happened.'

  'And who, may I ask, is this lad?'

  'The heir to the Grand Duchy of Luxoria. His life is in the greatest possible danger.'

  Faro felt as if he had been struck in the chest by a sledgehammer. He could not breathe for a moment, as Reece continued, 'Perhaps you have not seen the newspapers? There has been an attempt on the life of the boy's mother who is Her Majesty's goddaughter.'

  He shook his head. 'This is not the work of some political fanatic, the whole future of a kingdom is at stake and secret plans were ready to have him returned immediately to Luxoria if - ' Reece sighed. 'If his mother should die. You understand, Inspector.'

  Faro was speechless, shocked into silence.

  'The Headmaster will tell you everything. When he mentioned that you were still in the area, a very fortunate coincidence, we knew we could rely on your help.'

  Faro was no longer listening. Numbness was receding, his mind raced ahead, his suspicions confirmed regarding that accidental fall from an open window.

  ‘A matter of life and death.’ The words came back to haunt him. Dear God, why hadn't he listened?

  The bodyguard's accident had been deliberate murder. Desperate to warn someone, he thought a detective would be the proper person. And his attempt to save Prince George had cost him his life.

  Perhaps even now... No! kidnappers did not kill immediately. First, they demanded ransoms for their hostages.

  But that thought did not console him. He could see a door opening before him, moving away from local crimes into the world of international politics where he was a stranger - where lives were cheap when kingdoms were the prize.

  Faro shut his eyes against the terror of what lay ahead.

  Chapter 8

  Despite Reece's sombre warning, Faro told himself again and again that if the kidnappers had wanted the boy dead they would have killed him in Glenatholl. A ransom, that was it. It had to be a ransom. But the thought did little to console him as the cab swept down the college drive and emerged through the gloomy rhododendrons in front of the house.

  In the Headmaster's study anxious faces turned towards him, the other bodyguard and Anton introduced as George’s companion. And Faro remembered that the boy reciting Mark Antony's tribute to Caesar had been informally referred to as George. No title, no identification.

  That the Grand Duchess Amelie had chosen to send her son to Britain - no, to Scotland and only forty miles from Edinburgh - to be educated was an appalling coincidence. Doubtless she had her own reasons. Had these included the hope, a mere whisper, that fate would provide a chance meeting? Other than four words added to the newspaper announcement of George's birth, she had never communicated the dangerous secret that linked their lives.

  Faro tried to suppress the turmoil of emotions that seized him. He must concentrate on the fact that there had been a royal kidnapping and obviously, his sinking heart told him, George was in mortal danger.

  'If you please, Anton, tell Inspector Faro exactly what happened,' said Headmaster Banes gently. The boy looked scared and moved nearer to the bodyguard, addressed as Dieter, as if for support.

  'George received a note that a friend wished to meet him at the walled garden, near the gazebo.'

  The Headmaster said sternly: 'These are forbidden areas unless the boys are escorted.'

  'The gazebo near the statues of the Roman senators?' queried Faro.

  All heads swivelled towards him. 'You know the area, Inspector?'

  Indeed, yes, Headmaster. I found myself there on my way through the grounds when I arrived.’

  The Headmaster looked disapproving and faintly suspicious. 'You were unable to procure a hiring cab at the railway station? We did offer,' he added reproachfully.

  'I did take a cab but I decided to walk from the gates as I had time in hand,' said Faro, anxiety making him sound more irritable than usual. 'And I met the missing boy there. He was alone. Please continue,' he said to Anton, annoyed that he was suddenly the one being interrogated.

  Anton shook his head. 'I told him he must not go, especially - especially since the accident to Tomas, his servant.'

  'The unfortunate young man who fell out of the window?' asked Faro.

  Anton nodded. 'George was fond of him. He was very loyal.' The pieces were fitting together perfectly for Faro even before Anton went on. 'I was against it but George thought this meeting might have something to do with what happened. He - he-'

  Turning, he gazed at the Headmaster. 'He believed that Tomas might not have had an accident.'

  'Explain, if you please,' demanded the Headmaster stiffly.

  Anton took a deep breath. 'George believed that Tomas had - had been pushed out of the window.'

  'Outrageous!' was the roar of disapproval. 'Of course it was an accident.' And to Faro, 'the boys read too many adventure stories, I'm afraid. We try to keep such drivel from them, but the books are smuggled in by the servants.'

  Anton gave Faro a despairing look. He did not care to contradict the Headmaster.

  As for Faro, events were rapidly building up to an ominous certainty in his mind that the bodyguard's death and George's kidnapping were connected. And in view of what he had been told of secret plans to annexe Luxoria to Imperial Germany, he had little doubt that these two sinister events in Perthshire's elite public school were linked with the attempt on Amelie's life at the Kaiser's hunting-lodge.

  'He was very upset about Tomas and wanted to tell Mr Faro,' Anton interrupted his thoughts. 'A policeman might have helped.'

  Faro stared at him, unable to say a word. He groaned inwardly at this information of another who had believed in him and he had failed, adding to his remorse for the man who had needed his help and had been rejected.

  Worse was the terrible feeling that had he listened, he might have averted this disaster. Tomas must have been aware of a plot to kidnap George, and he had been murdered for that knowledge.

  'Inspector, a word, if you please.' The Headmaster drew him aside. 'I expect you have heard the grave news from Germany concerning the boy's mother, the Grand Duchess.'

  'I have. But did the boy know?'

  'Not from us. We were told to keep it from him, not to distress him without cause unless - unless the worst happened and then, of course, he would have had to be told and sent back home immediately. This kidnapping puts a very different, a very serious, complexion on the matter,' he added darkly. 'I'm afraid the information has leaked out and this is a deliberate attempt to prevent George returning to Luxoria. Be as discreet as you can with your enquiries, sir,' he said, leading the way back to the little group. 'Please continue, Anton. Tell the Inspector all
you know. Everything, every detail no matter how unimportant it may seem to you.'

  Anton nodded, and thought for a moment. 'The note suggesting a meeting was on his mother's personal stationery. He misses her very much.'

  Another pang smote Faro as Anton went on. 'I wanted to go with George. I pleaded and promised not to tell Dieter,' he nodded to the bodyguard, 'but George would not listen. So I decided I'd follow and see what was going on.'

  'That was very foolish, but very brave of you, Anton,' said the Headmaster proudly.

  Anton shrugged. 'Thank you, sir. At first I thought nothing was going to happen. Then a rough-looking man, like a gypsy, came from behind one of the statues.'

  'Gypsies, eh?' the Headmaster nodded. 'There are a lot of them about the district.'

  This man came out and was talking to George. He obviously wanted George to go with him, but George was shaking his head. I couldn't tell what he was saying. Then another man came and they grabbed him and carried him away.'

  'Carried him?' Faro put in quickly. 'Was there no carriage?'

  'Not that I could see, sir.'

  Faro thought rapidly. No carriage was very unusual, and considering the scale of the grounds, suggested that George might have been hidden locally. But before he could elaborate on the theory, the Headmaster's frown in his direction indicated that this was an unnecessary interruption.

  'Surely George was putting up a struggle. Surely he would not give in readily to such treatment,' he said sharply as if regulations regarding such behaviour ‘in extremis’ were sternly laid down in the college curriculum.

  Anton shook his head. 'I think they had tied his hands and feet. I could not be sure, though, I wasn't close enough to see exactly what was happening.'

  'Of course, of course. You are not in any way to be blamed for your actions, quite courageous in such horrifying circumstances,' was the smooth reply. 'Pray continue.'