I had cases in my logbooks solved successfully on far less evidence. A picture was beginning to emerge where I had all the pieces, if only I knew how to put them together in the right order.
Then Vince provided that possibly vital missing piece when he said that before the Games, extra precautions had to be taken for the royal family’s safety. When questioned, he turned evasive and looked remarkably like a man who, having said too much, regretted it instantly.
‘There have always been these insane attempts, you know that from Stepfather, surely. He was the Queen’s personal detective here in Balmoral, after all. Saved her life once or twice.’
He tried to shrug off my interest, change the subject, but I was on to it. ‘You mean that the King’s life is in danger?’
That accounted for many things which now slid into place, like Inspector Gray’s continued presence and the number of ghillies I’d seen wandering about during my walks in the wood with Thane, far enough away from the castle. I recognised at once that these were ghillies in name only. There was no disguising their discomfort or embarrassment in that particular Balmoral uniform of kilts and glengarry bonnets, they still looked and walked like policemen.
I now knew what the venue would be. It didn’t take a great deal of imagination to guess that the Games at Invercauld would be the perfect camouflage, the crowds providing perfect cover for assassins to strike and make good their escape. The police would have to be very vigilant indeed and extra pairs of eyes in the backs of their heads would have been a considerable advantage.
At last I seemed to have all the ingredients if only I could sort them out. The victims so far, Lily and Bobby. Was there a vital link I had overlooked? Was Lily, in fact, a spy? From the vague background Mabel had provided I had concluded that she was foreign, didn’t speak English but spoke and understood it perfectly. Perfect camouflage for a spy to be able to overhear conversations.
Even being so colourless was an excellent disguise for Lily, who according to the stable lads loved horses. White horses like the Lipizzaners suggested Austria or Germany, and hinted to a possible link with Alice’s husband, who hated the English, obsessed by the belief that his distant cousin Kaiser Wilhelm, who blamed his mother, Queen Victoria’s daughter, for his withered arm, was the rightful king of England. Accepting the invitation to Balmoral gave Hermann von Mueller a sinister reason for his presence, the perfect opportunity of serving his beloved Kaiser.
Who was the man who had threatened Bobby? Was the reason for his murder because believing he loved her, Lily had confided in him or asked for his help? Who was the man who had threatened Bobby and given him a ten-pound bribe to clear off? That wasn’t enough for the wide boy and greedy for more had cost him his life. Was this unseen tall man ‘with the posh voice’ Bobby had described also Mabel’s attacker? If so, then she would never know what a narrow escape she had that day.
This discovery was so vital, so urgent, that I had to tell someone. Even Mabel would do, except that she was away with the pony cart, probably to Ballater for some last shopping.
Vince’s daily visit to the cottage was still hours away. If he wasn’t in his surgery at the castle then I could leave an urgent message. I was just about to leave when I heard a lot of strange noises upstairs. From Mabel’s bedroom. I ran upstairs and poked my head around the door.
And what a scene. A large bird, a young jackdaw by the size of it, had fallen down the chimney, carrying with it a vast quantity of soot, and trapped, its frantic rushes at the window had made a terrible mess of the room.
I opened the window and after considerable effort with a towel from the bathroom managed to steer it to the windowsill, where with an indignant squawk it flew out and disappeared.
I looked around in dismay. Soot marks and droppings everywhere. I hadn’t the heart to let Mabel come back to this, she was useless as a housewife, nor did I feel I could call on Yolande and Jessie who would be busy in the kitchen at this hour. I would have to tackle it myself so I went downstairs, returned with bucket and brush and began cleaning the room.
I had almost finished when in one corner of that overcrowded little room there was damage I hadn’t noticed. The jackdaw’s descent from the chimney had knocked down a large jar. Praying that it wasn’t a priceless antique from Abergeldie Castle for the lid was chipped, I lifted it carefully.
There was something inside wrapped in newspaper. I knew as soon as I held it in my hand what it was. A gun, a derringer. I had one exactly like it at home. In the barrel, ready for firing, two bullets. Had it been forgotten by some previous occupant? Was Mabel aware of its presence?
Then I looked at the newspaper – The Times, which Mabel conscientiously bought each time she went to Ballater. And dated two weeks ago.
There was my answer. The gun was Mabel’s and she had hidden it in the vase. Then I remembered how after our concern for her attack she said if it happened again she would be armed. And that triggered another memory. How when she first went out in the pony cart to follow the shooting parties, she had said wistfully that she was a lot better than most of those men.
I was still wondering whether I should mention the gun to her when there was another crisis. Cries from the garden where the two girls had been playing. Rowena rushed in followed by Thane. ‘Mrs Macmerry, come quickly. Meg has fallen out of the tree.’
I rushed out. Meg was lying at the base of the ancient tree; its potential as a possible tree house abandoned, one of its large branches had been a delight to swing on. Now it lay on the ground beside Meg, who was crying and clutching her leg.
‘My ankle, Mam. It’s broken,’ she sobbed.
I knelt down beside her. Thankfully it didn’t feel like a broken ankle, but it was badly sprained. Trying to calm her, I carried her into the cottage. In a lot of pain, I must get her to Vince.
At that moment I heard the pony cart. Mabel had returned from Ballater, and coming in with her parcels, she took one look at the scene and demanded: ‘What on earth has happened now? You girls, always in trouble.’
‘Meg fell off the tree,’ Rowena said. ‘We were swinging and suddenly it just snapped.’
‘Didn’t I warn them? Every day I said—’
I cut her short. ‘Can I take the pony cart? I must get her to Vince.’
She shrugged. ‘Of course, I’m finished with it for today.’
I wrung out a towel in cold water, wrapped it round the injured ankle, and with Rowena helped her into the cart.
Mabel stood at the door with Thane. My questions to her would have to wait.
Vince was not at the surgery. The nurse who assisted him said he should be back shortly and that he had gone to the railway station to collect someone in the motor. A kindly, middle-aged, cheerful lady, she immediately took over Meg who had given up attempts at being brave as the nurse examined her ankle. After some soothing drops to kill the pain and some expert bandaging, she took me aside.
‘No, it isn’t broken, Mrs Macmerry, but it’s a very bad sprain, I’m afraid. Dr Laurie will confirm that.’ She sighed. ‘I doubt this little lass will be able to go to the Games.’
Relieved with her verdict, I knew that Meg would be only slightly disappointed, as neither she nor Rowena liked sitting still for hours. And then there was Thane. What to do with him while we were all absent for several hours?
The answer was simple. Rowena and Meg would stay with him. I thought of the old adage about ill winds. I heard a motor outside.
At the window, Meg said: ‘It’s Uncle Vince!’ She waved to him. The door opened and he came in. Followed by Jack.
What a surprise! A brief kiss and he rushed to Meg’s side. There was a lot of hugging, consoling, soothing words, before Vince separated them and got to work examining Meg.
‘No need to wait, you two. I’ll bring her back in the motor. Yes, Rowena, you can stay.’
It was my turn to be in line for hugs. As we walked back to the cottage, my first question was: ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Have to be in Aberdeen tomorrow, a special enquiry. Hoped to be given time off to come to the Games, so that we could all go home together. But duty calls, as always.’
‘I’m so glad to see you again.’
He put an arm around me and sighed. ‘Me too, Rose, never get used to being away from you both.’
We kissed and I said: ‘It doesn’t look like Meg will manage the Games.’
‘Too bad.’ I explained about Thane and he smiled. ‘Good thinking. She would soon be bored with all the ceremonials and the competitions. Not my thing, either. But I got quite a shock, I can tell you, when Vince was about to drop me off at the cottage and there was Mabel waving frantically. I guessed there was something wrong.’
So I told him about Mabel’s hidden weapon. He merely shook his head and seemed to find it amusing, eccentric, and somehow typical of her. It was a very short visit. The next time we were to meet would be home again, in Edinburgh.
Dave collected him in the motor for the train from Ballater. Meg arrived back with Vince, leaning on a crutch. But it was not until after supper, when Mabel retired and we got Meg upstairs to bed, that I was able to tell him everything.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
At last, the day of the long-awaited Games, and for me an even greater excitement. Tomorrow Meg and I and Thane would be home in Solomon’s Tower, picking up the threads of my life, writing up my logbook and seeing what clients (if any) I had awaiting my services as a lady investigator. I wished Alice well but hoped the world of political intrigue, which wasn’t at all my kind of world, would be closed for ever. And I certainly wouldn’t be sorry to see the back of Mabel as we put her on the London train.
Dave came with the motor. Mabel and I climbed aboard, watched by the two girls with Yolande (who had been allowed a day off but didn’t like the Games, declaring them too noisy!). Promised sweeties from the stalls, they waved us off with Thane at their side.
The noises grew louder over the short journey to the venue and the smells I always associated with fairs and circuses in Edinburgh’s Queen’s Park grew stronger. As the car was parked and we walked the short distance to our seating area opposite the royal box, a small platform covered by an awning, I noticed there were gipsies among the crowd, obviously permitted to sell their wares and tell fortunes.
There was a great air of expectancy as the royal family arrived in their car. We couldn’t see them but we heard the pipers and then everyone stood for ‘God Save the King’ and across from our front seats, which Vince had acquired for us, just yards away, the king and the princes in kilts, the Queen suitably robed in tartan, took their places.
Nearby I was aware of those policemen pretending to be ghillies and I had a glimpse of Inspector Gray and ‘Mr Elder’ in the group of seats occupied by the ambassadors, and foreign guests. The rain that threatened had given way to sunshine but there was a slight breeze, welcomed by the performers, especially the Highland dancers, the tug o’ war teams from Braemar and Ballater, the weightlifters and the local hero tossing the caber.
Mabel was at my side, silent and I thought watchful. Suddenly I saw out of the corner of my eye a scuffle among the foreign guests. Hermann van Mueller was on his feet, saluting, shouting and raising a rifle, directed at the royal box, at the King.
As he was seized by the inspector and the man they knew as Mr Elder, at my side Mabel sprang to her feet, withdrew that derringer concealed in her pocket, raised it and screamed: ‘No, no! He is mine. He is mine!’
As she levelled the gun, I threw my shawl over her hand and seized her wrist. She struggled and the gun was towards me, in the region of my stomach. As I heard the click, I closed my eyes. What if there had been other bullets than the two I had seen? Then Vince and one large ghillie-policeman were separating us and seized her bodily.
Amid murmurs of astonishment among the people beside us Vince said, ‘Please make way. The lady is ill. She has taken a bad turn. Excuse us.’
Many recognised Vince as Dr Laurie as the lady in question was shouting, ‘The King – he is mine – he is mine!’ Luckily I hoped no one heard her scream and sob: ‘I am to kill him.’
Then we were in the motor with Dave driving, Mabel now reduced to angry tears of frustration, no longer a threat to anyone, held firmly between the policeman and Vince.
He looked at me, grinned and said: ‘Good job you removed the two bullets, Rose.’
‘Good job she didn’t check.’ I had searched the room but found no hidden cache, but one could never be sure.
He shook his head. ‘An accomplished assassin would never make that mistake.’ As we reached the cottage he said, ‘I’ll have to go back, but I’ll leave Craig here to stand guard in case she makes any trouble.’
I thought that was a splendid idea, seeing that I was only half her size and if she attacked me, I would be another victim. Somehow I didn’t feel that I was in any danger or that she was capable of violence any more. She had been defeated, but we still didn’t know why she wanted to kill King Edward. That I had to find out. She made no resistance as we entered the cottage, just made for the stairs and her room. Meg and Rowena were playing cards, surprised at our return.
I said Mabel had taken poorly. They nodded sympathy and went on with the game, their hands watched over by Thane with an almost human expression as if he knew which card to play.
I seized the bottle of brandy kept for medicinal purposes in the sideboard and carried it up to Mabel who was sitting, her shoulders bent, by the window.
I poured a liberal glassful and said: ‘Drink this.’ She took it from me without a word and continued to gaze into the garden. I drew up a chair and sat beside her. ‘You do realise the serious nature of what you – almost – did, don’t you?’
She looked at me. ‘I wanted to kill him for what he did to us. He ruined our lives, turned my mother into an invalid for life. A botched suicide.’
‘That was hardly his fault.’
‘It was, it was. He seduced her. They were lovers. And when he used to visit Penby, she believed he loved her. I used to watch them together, spy on them.’
Such sexual antics were hardly suitable viewing for young eyes, I thought. Was that why she had never married and despised men? ‘He loved a lot of women, Mabel, but they took it in their stride, they accepted the generous pay-off in the form of some gift. They didn’t try to commit suicide.’
‘She was a beauty. She believed she was different to the others.’
‘How could she? Married with a young daughter − how old were you?’
I remembered the photograph in the hall at Penby when she said: ‘I was eight, I saw it all.’
Just a year older than Meg, I thought sadly, as she went on. ‘Mama said he would give us an even grander house, make us a substantial allowance and introduce her into society. We would live in the lap of luxury,’ she paused. ‘Well, you saw for yourself what it was like with the broken old woman, the invalid I pretended was my aunt. Don’t you think he deserved to die?’ Without waiting for my response she went on, ‘I have hated him all my life, I made a resolve long ago to kill him. I always intended that and you – you stopped me. Bitch! How did you manage to do that?’ she exploded.
‘All I did was remove the bullets.’
‘You had no right in my room. How dare you?’
‘I went in to release a trapped bird. And I saved you from hanging.’
‘You have destroyed my mission in my life, and I hate you. Hate you, Rose Macmerry!’
But she was crying now. Ambition thwarted, her lifetime dream, terrible as it was, turned to ashes. I thought of that scene back at the Games, which now seemed almost farcical.
Not one, but two assassins there planning to kill the King, neither with any notion of the other’s existence. Had they had such information and joined forces, the ending could have been much much worse and the young Prince of Wales would now be king.
Refilling the glass which I thrust into her not unwilling hand I said: ‘No, you don�
��t hate me, Mabel, someday when you are calmer you’ll realise that I saved your life. You would undoubtedly have died, by hanging, sentenced to death for treason, for attempted murder if anyone had seen you raising that gun.’
I paused. ‘And you already have two murders to account for.’
She looked at me and began to cry again. ‘I didn’t mean to kill her. She was a devil. Always listening at doors. She overheard me talking to Mama in Penby, knew what I intended and she decided that she could blackmail me once we got to Balmoral. She threatened to tell all. I knew I had to get rid of her. But I only intended to hurt her, scare her, then I lost my temper in the pony cart. She was so rude, laughing at me, and I hit her, I wanted to push her out of the cart, make her walk back. But I must have been too strong. She fell and rolled down into the river.’
I listened patiently, wondering if that explanation would stand up in a murder trial. I thought not.
‘What about the stable boy Bobby? Did you intend to kill him too?’
‘He was just as bad as her, thick as thieves they were. I guessed that she had probably told him and they were going to share the profits. I could not take chances, so I sent him that note, got him to meet me – I make a credible disguise as a man – gave him the money and thought that would get rid of him from Balmoral. But like all blackmailers, he wanted more. I had got rid of Lily and I couldn’t let him stay around. He was now the greatest threat to my plan.’
She paused, her face grim, remembering. ‘I drove the pony cart at him. The horse threw him. It was easy, really. No blame would be attached to me – I thought.
‘It had all gone so well. I had been so lucky, it was like God’s will, if one was a believer, the steps laid for me to follow. I had no idea over the years how or when, until Olivia wrote that she was going to Balmoral. I knew Vince was a royal physician. What an opportunity. Although I was involved with women’s suffrage, that was originally only a desperate measure to join some organisation that might also present an opportunity to accomplish my mission, which had never been out of my thoughts for a single day since Mama’s terrible injuries.’
The Balmoral Incident Page 21
