Rose McQuinn 7 - Deadly Legacy

by Alanna Knight

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Fate was smiling on me, even if from behind a grey cloud, for I wasn't destined to be alone for long.

  Prayers for a man to protect and advise me were being answered in the handsome form of my stepbrother Dr Vince Laurie, arriving next morning, totally unexpected as usual.

  As he alighted from the carriage I was delighted, even tearful, to see him. And so was Thane.

  Soon he was sitting at the kitchen table and declining tea, taking a swig - at eleven in the morning, I frowned - from a silver flask which had been the gift of the late Queen.

  Vince sighed. 'I do miss HM. I was very fond of her, but Bertie--' He grinned. 'Beg pardon, His Majesty, is a vastly different proposition. And alas, from my point of view, he doesn't share his mother's passion for Balmoral and all things related to his father, Prince Albert. He's a bit contemptuous of the whole mourning business, believes in getting on with life. As for John Brown - that legendary figure - you should just see his eyes snap at the mention of his name.'

  'So I gather you won't be stopping off on the royal train quite as often.'

  Vince smiled wryly. 'If only ...'

  And I learnt quickly what I feared most. That his infrequent visits when the royal train stopped off in Edinburgh were likely to be even fewer, since the King did not consider it necessary that the junior physician to the royal household accompany a selection of children and grandchildren back and forth, up and down the railway line to Ballater.

  'His only interest in Balmoral is for the shooting - which is why he is here. He vastly prefers London's bright lights, and his favourite indulgences - gambling and the society of beautiful women.'

  Vince sighed. 'The reason for my visit is that there is a problem - a medical one - with his digestive system. It is playing him up, and regardless of advice about overeating and overdrinking, he refuses to curtail his social life. However, I am here because he has quarrelled with his personal physician. No reason given directly, except that rumour - never to be disregarded in royal circles - has it that he has been playing excessive attention to said physician's very beautiful young wife.'

  As he paused to moisten his lips with another sip of very expensive whisky or brandy - my experience of both was minimal - I realised that this elevation to royal favour was primarily because the King could rely on Dr Laurie's discretion from experience while he was still Prince of Wales. On the only occasion when I had met the heir to the throne, Vince was accompanying him to the opening of a new bridge in Edinburgh, and Bertie, as he was then popularly known, was paying particular attention to a lady in the Lothian area.

  Yes, Dr Laurie was definitely to be relied upon and he did not fuss. Fuss was something the King despised. And so Vince found himself spending a few brief hours in Edinburgh while his royal master visited the same Lothian lady, recently widowed and by whom - rumour had it once again - there was an offspring who bore him a remarkable resemblance.

  Vince was sorry to have missed Jack and very concerned about the shooting. He demanded to know all the medical details.

  'I can't tell you anything, Vince. You had better apply to the surgeon Mr Wainland for such details.'

  'Wainland,' Vince smiled. 'Then Jack was in good hands. I knew Wainland well in the old days here. He will have made an excellent job of patching Jack up.'

  And that was good news for me too. When I said Jack had gone to Eildon, he asked the obvious question: why had I not gone with him?

  I smiled. 'What - and miss your visit!'

  He smiled wryly. 'I would have been sorry, especially now that I won't be coming on the royal train so often ...'

  'Often', he called it - I thought not more than twice a year, as he went on, 'You have no excuse not to visit St James's, see Olivia and the children, all three of them, growing up without a sight of you. You'll love London.'

  I thought of Beth and smiled. 'It's on my list but Edinburgh keeps me busy. I have a career, if you hadn't noticed already.'

  'Any interesting cases?'

  'Just a couple of frauds and private shadowing of suspected cheating husbands,' I said. 'That was a month ago. Main concern now is Jack's recovery and Meg, his little girl, you may remember ...'

  He nodded and I went on, 'Her aunt died, her uncle by marriage remarried ...' I decided to spare him the tedious details of tracking Meg down. 'She now lives with new adoptive parents in Joppa, conveniently near at hand for Jack to go and see her.'

  Vince sat back and smiled. 'He will be delighted about that. His visits to and from Glasgow were rather like mine to Edinburgh, infrequent and unreliable. Has he seen her yet?'

  'No. All this happened while he's been in hospital. He is to call on her on his return from Eildon, richly sustained on fresh Border air and his mother's cooking.'

  Vince nodded approval. 'Knowing Jack, that was advisable in his condition.' I told him that Andy had come post-haste to escort him and Vince laughed.

  'And you too, I dare say, if you'd been of a mind for it.' He paused, looked at me quizzically. 'But Eildon was never your favourite place, was it?'

  I shook my head and we were both silent, back with the wedding-that-never-was, a nightmare that I preferred not to remember.

  At least Vince, whether he approved or not, refrained from nagging me about Jack and I being still unwed.

  'So what would you like to do? I have a carriage and driver at my disposal. Shall we go out somewhere? Joppa perhaps? I'd like a look at Jack's little Meg.'

  I wasn't desperately keen on that idea and - as if on cue - it began to rain. 'Let's wait a while. Look at the weather!'

  As we adjourned to the two comfortable armchairs by the fire, Vince looked at me critically. 'I have a strange feeling that you have a lot on your mind, Rose, that you need to talk about. It's confession time, so let's hear all about it.' He lit a cigar. 'Right from the beginning!'

  So I told him about the ailing Mrs Lawers' legacy, how Jack had persuaded me to accompany her to Lochandor since Meg was now with her aunt and uncle nearby at Tarnbrae. How, on the day appointed, her maid Hinton arrived, saying Mrs Lawers was too ill to travel.

  When I reached the train journey and the maid's insistence that she should carry my luggage, I noted that my scrupulous stepbrother had been concentrating on every detail with only an occasional interruption to make a comment or ask a question.

  After I had described the attack on the train, he held up a hand and said, 'It's a wonder you survived such a fall, without severe or even fatal injuries.'

  'Fortunately the train had slowed down at a bend and I fell down a steep grassy slope. I was rescued by the local doctor out walking his dog. Bruises and so forth but nothing broken, but he insisted on seeing me on to the next train back to Edinburgh.'

  I went on to describe how I made the decision to return to Lochandor, how Mr Lawers refused to accept the legacy and of my failed attempt to see the Pringlesses. When I told him of my fever, Vince shook his head and said firmly, 'That could not have been the influenza, Rose. It is a serious illness and patients could never make such a rapid recovery.'

  I thought of Thane's part but meekly agreed, as Vince was yet to be convinced of Thane's mysterious powers, as were all but Jack and I who had witnessed the evidence with our own eyes.

  I described to Vince my shock and misgivings on being told of the deaths of Mrs Lawers and Hinton. 'I wasn't the only one to have grave suspicions. Amy Dodd, her friendly next-door neighbour, told me about a strange man who she had heard threatening Mrs Lawers. And from Mrs Dodd's timing I had a new piece of evidence. Both women must have been dead before I left on my second mission to Lochandor, in which case it wasn't Mrs Lawers who spoke to me through the door that day.'

  'Where was Jack in all this?' asked Vince.

  'Oh, he knew the police were involved and that this was a possible murder case.'

  'You told him of your attack on the train, of course.'

  I shook my head.

  'Why on earth not?' Vince demande
d. 'It was surely of great significance in connection with the deaths of those two women.'

  'I knew that Chief Inspector Gray was involved and I suppose I had some thoughts - seeing that we are old enemies - of solving the case myself.'

  It was Vince's turn to shake his head and sigh deeply. 'Not a very wise decision, Rose. Go on, what next?'

  'If you must know, Jack was more concerned about Meg in her new surroundings than the fate of Mrs Lawers' legacy. So I promised to go to Tarnbrae and see her, which pleased him.'

  'That was very brave of you, Rose, considering the circumstances, to set forth again--'

  'Not brave, Vince, merely duty to a dead woman. I had been paid a substantial fee and I felt it was my moral duty to try to persuade John Lawers to accept the legacy, only to discover that any such hopes were doomed. He had died of a heart attack after a house fire, which left the fate of Mrs Lawers' legacy in my hands.'

  'And if you were to do anything about that, you had to know immediately what this package contained,' he said.

  I described the contents and in particular the map which I had recognised as similar to the one Jack and I had found in the Tower.

  'In your possession?'

  I told him how Jack had decided there might be a connection with the Battle of Prestonpans and had sought the opinion of an Edinburgh historian, who I had recently met and entrusted with the documents.

  Finally I told him about the bogus policeman and the break-in at the Tower. 'Much missing?' Vince put in.

  'No, and that is what is so curious. Thane had been shut in the master bedroom, the Tower carefully ransacked, but nothing was stolen.'

  Our discussion was cut short by the arrival of the postman. Two letters: one from Mr Hayward asking if he could call in two days' time, when he hoped to have more information on the documents; the other was from Jane Hinton, letting me know that the funerals of her aunt and Mrs Lawers were to take place at Duddingston Kirk.

  Vince looked at his watch. 'It has stopped raining, Rose. The sun shines - shall we go out to Dirleton for lunch? I would enjoy a sight of East Lothian again and time is so short.'

  It was always a joy to spend precious hours with Vince, especially as they were to be even more infrequent in future.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  After lunch we walked at Yellowcraigs, sat on a boulder in the sunshine, watching the lapping waves gently caressing the shore.

  Vince, smiling, said, 'Now where were we? Why didn't you inform the police about the break-in, Rose - and this fellow Gray?'

  'Think of it - who would believe me? Not Chief Inspector Gray, I assure you. Report a burglary with no evidence of anything stolen, a broken lock on a jewel case? Gray thinks little enough of my abilities as a lady investigator and would immediately claim that I was suffering again from an overactive imagination.'

  Vince bit his lip and looked thoughtful. 'So we have evidence here that the searcher's interest lay primarily with the map and those letters.'

  'Which I was unable to read. Besides being written in French, they were illegible. I gave them to Hayward.'

  'A professor of history before he retired,' said Vince. 'I knew him well. Highly respected member of the community.'

  'Trustworthy?'

  'Indeed, yes. Absolutely reliable. Your documents will be quite safe with him.' Again he frowned. 'Let us hope from that letter you have just received that he has succeeded in making something of them.'

  He leant across, took my hand. 'As for me, my only concern is you. I worry about your safety with Jack away.'

  'There is no need. I have Thane.'

  'Thane is a dog,' he muttered. 'And, may I remind you, a dog who let a burglar into the house.'

  I explained the circumstances about the similar uniform and so forth, but he didn't seem convinced, merely shook his head and said, 'I'd be a hundred times happier with a strong man who had fists and could reinforce them with a gun.'

  'I have a gun,' I said firmly. 'And I know how to use it.'

  He grinned. 'I heard that you were quite a crack shot with a rifle in your pioneering days.'

  We were both sad for a moment, as unhappy memories stirred. Then Vince straightened his shoulders, sighed and said sternly, 'You really should have told Jack, you know. It was quite wrong to keep it to yourself, carry this dangerous burden alone. Why on earth did you not tell him?'

  'As a doctor,' I said slowly, 'you know the answer to that. If you'd seen him after the shooting - for those first twenty-four hours it was touch and go whether he would survive. Your surgeon friend did a marvellous job, but at each visit I saw how frail he was, even yesterday when I saw him off at the station with his father. It was too late then, and what was the point of burdening him with something he could do nothing about? He'd only worry.'

  'He has influence in his position - he could have got you police protection.'

  'Vince, you're confusing me with your royal employers. That doesn't happen to ordinary folk on such uncorroborated evidence like falling - or being pushed - out of a train, and a burglary with nothing stolen.'

  Vince wasn't listening. He frowned. 'Tell me what you can remember about this map among those documents.'

  'I have a very good memory, Vince, as you are well aware; I could draw it for you. The battle formations of the clans were probably drawn by the prince himself while he stayed at Mrs Lawers' house in the Causeway. Two opposing army lines drawn up facing one another. In the background, the shape of a mountain roughly drawn, the coast, Arthur's Seat and the Firth of Forth.'

  Vince looked up. 'Obviously relating to Prestonpans.' He shook his head. 'But surely a crude map could not contain some secret never to be revealed.'

  'What if it is only part of a larger map? Mr Hayward believed that to be a distinct possibility.'

  'I still think that is extremely doubtful. More likely the truth must lie in those letters written a hundred and fifty years ago.' He groaned. 'And in French. How irritating.'

  'But it does make some connection with the prince's campaign more certain. Perhaps he wrote the letters too. It was his native tongue after all, remember, not Scots.'

  Vince sighed. 'Well, I wouldn't have been much use to you even if I'd seen the letters. Never was much good at French, or any languages come to think of it. Latin was hard enough, and once or twice failing exams put the possibility of doing medicine in question.'

  The sun had fled, it was turning chilly, gloom had descended on the rocky shore, the ebb tide grey and uninviting. We went back to the waiting carriage, Vince thoughtfully silent.

  In the Tower once more, while I made a cup of tea he hovered and said, 'I must confess the only likely suspect I have come up with from your evidence is Sergeant Wright.'

  My eyebrows raised at that. 'Sergeant Wright?' I repeated. 'The most unlikely one if you knew him.'

  He shook his head. 'But that's always the way of it. I shouldn't have to tell you that.'

  'In this case, I'm sure you're wrong ...'

  'Perhaps. But let's face it, he is the only logical person from what you've told me--'

  'He certainly wasn't the policeman who came to my door with an urgent message to send me off to the hospital while he searched the house,' I interrupted.

  Vince was silent again. 'Do you know what I think, Rose?' And without awaiting a reply, 'I think, in your best interests, that you should abandon this mystery, leave the matter of the two dead women in the hands of the police, where it belongs. Declare the case of Mrs Lawers' legacy closed - unsolved, meanwhile remaining custodian of the documents and the trinkets until such time as someone claims them - such as Mrs Lawers' solicitors.'

  'That's unlikely. From what I heard from Jane Hinton, or her friend Amy Dodd, she was the kind of woman who did not trust anyone, and certainly not a bank or a lawyer--'

  'Hear me out, Rose. If you don't find someone to carry this burden for you, you are chasing shadows ...' he paused and added grimly, '... but if there is something amiss and dangerous for th
e holder of these documents, then one of these shadows might materialise, knife in hand, from the darkness surrounding you.'

  It was quite poetic the way he put it. Impressed, I said, 'Now you are just trying to scare me to death.'

  'It's for your own good, Rose,' he said angrily, banging his fist on the table. 'Why don't you listen to reason for a change?' Watching my expression, he groaned. 'And if you'd had the sense to tell all this to Jack, I don't doubt for one moment that he would have felt as I do about it and utterly forbidden you to pursue it any longer.'

  'Very well, I will tell him once he's restored back to health and strength after being spoilt rotten by his devoted mother.' I paused to see how he was taking this and added, 'Remember he has another problem waiting on the doorstep. A three-year-old problem which he has never managed to solve.'

  'Meg?'

  'Yes, Meg. And what he should do about letting the Blakers adopt her.' Over lunch I had confided my concerns about Piers Blaker.

  Vince looked at me, considering, silent, as if searching for the right words. Then he smiled wryly. 'There is a very simple solution to the problem of Meg. So simple, I'm surprised that a lady investigator hasn't twigged it already.'

  'And what is that?' I demanded sharply.

  He grinned. 'I'm not going to put the words in your mouth, Rose. Just think about it, and the answer will come to you in a flash.'

  He left soon afterwards with cheerful promises to meet again, though God knows when that would be, I thought miserably.

  However, I did almost promise to visit St James's and see the family. But I knew that momentary enthusiasm would soon fade. The prospect of London did not enchant me; I found the thought daunting, even slightly scary.

  There were other considerations. Would my sister-in-law Olivia have been changed by living within the royal circle? What would those three children make of their rarely seen aunt with the wild yellow hair and unconventional clothes? And what on earth would I wear, what kind of dress would be appropriate? Certainly nothing from a lady bicyclist's wardrobe in the wilds of Arthur's Seat. And I sighed, knowing this feeling of frustration and panic would inevitably provide another excuse for my not visiting London.