A Quiet Death (An Inspector Faro Mystery No.5)

by Alanna Knight

  'When I told him all this, he kissed me, assured me that I was worrying unnecessarily. Do you know, he never once lost his temper. So patient with me, smiling, understanding.'

  Taking a deep breath, she continued painfully. 'As he held me, he removed my bonnet, loosened my hair. As he usually did before—before—'

  Her sudden pause, eyes wide, relived that moment. In panic she was suddenly aware of this audience of men.

  'We quite understand, lass,' said Faro hastily.

  She shook her head tearfully. ' "Never worry, my dearest. We will think of something. Rest assured of that." And those were his very last words to me. He shook down my hair, let it fall about my shoulders, put his hands round my throat. I thought he was about to caress me. I closed my eyes.'

  Her voice faded and her hands trembled towards the bruises. 'But his grip grew tighter and I saw in his eyes reflected in the dressing-table mirror that he meant to kill me. The room was growing darker. I struggled frantically. I'm quite strong really and I pushed him hard, he let me go. But as I tried to reach the door he came at me again, knocked me down with his fist.

  'I fell beside the bed, put out my hand to struggle to my knees and felt my bonnet—with the pin still sticking out of it. He turned me to face him, his hands tight around my throat again and I struck at his chest with all my might.

  'You know the rest,' she ended wearily and, sobbing, buried her face in her hands.

  As Faro went forward, put a hand on her shoulder, she looked up. 'I've sat here for the past two days, trying to summon up courage to give myself up. The waiting was worse than seeing you coming up the stairs, I can tell you. I'm glad you came. Now I can be peaceful. Will they hang me, Mr Faro?' she asked again.

  'I think when all your story is known, no jury will convict you, Kathleen. There would be a public outcry against any such verdict. Especially as you saved the hangman a job.'

  'I don't know about that, Faro,' said Sergeant Elliott.

  'Let me finish,' said Faro. 'A public outcry, since Wilfred Deane is himself a murderer—'

  'Hold on, Faro. Attempted only—' Elliott protested.

  Faro shook his head. 'Deane has already committed murder and escaped justice. As Kathleen well knows.'

  It was Kathleen's turn to protest. 'I don't know anything about that, sir. Honest I don't.' But there was panic in her voice, terror in her eyes.

  'I think you do. You see, I believe all your story. Except for the first part. You weren't being quite straight with us, were you? About Deane's reasons for not marrying you? Oh, it is true he was going to have to make a marriage for business reasons with a woman whom he did not love. But you knew about that right from the beginning. He made no secret of it.'

  'I never did. I never did,' she cried. 'I swear I didn't know of Lady Clara's existence until I read it in the newspapers.'

  'Ah, but it was not Lady Clara he told you he was being forced to marry when he confessed his predicament to you originally. It was nearer home. Much nearer.'

  Kathleen bit her lips and turned away sullenly as Faro looked across at Vince. 'It was Rachel Deane, as we both know. He told us so that night she died. How much he loved her.'

  'He never loved her,' Kathleen shouted. 'That was a rotten lie.'

  'It was indeed,' said Faro, 'for love didn't enter into his cruel calculations. It was money again. Money he desperately needed to save himself from jail.

  'Time was running out. He knew there was already a fraud and embezzlement enquiry under way regarding the inferior building materials that had been substituted for the more expensive ones contracted for the Tay Bridge.'

  Elliott nodded. 'So you knew about that too, Faro?'

  'Superintendent Johnston told me in confidence.'

  'These enquiries are the main reason why this damned bridge is taking so long in the building. It was no secret with us. We all knew about that on the force. Go on, Inspector.'

  'Wilfred Deane was desperate to lay his hands on Rachel's fortune. He might have succeeded but she fell in love with someone else, someone she had just met briefly. Her grandfather's doctor, namely Vince here. And that was when he decided to murder her.'

  'But that can't be true, Rachel took her own life. We saw her,' said Vince. 'Good God, Stepfather, you were there.'

  Faro shook his head. 'Would you do something for me, Kathleen?'

  When she looked doubtful, he said: 'It might well strengthen your case, save your life.'

  'All right,' she agreed sullenly.

  'Would you please remove your shoes.'

  'My shoes? If that's what you want.' As she kicked them aside, Faro withdrew from the bag he carried a pair of ladies' slippers.

  At his side, Vince's cry of painful recognition was added to Kathleen's gasp of alarm.

  'Those were Rachel's,' said Vince. 'She wore them that night—and you've kept them all this time,' he added accusingly.

  'I know, lad, I know. And I've kept them with good reason, for just such an occasion as this. Kathleen, if you please.' Kneeling down he took her feet and slipped on first the right slipper and then the left.

  And looking up triumphantly, 'As I suspected. They fit perfectly. Made for this lass. Gentlemen, I've waited for months to find this particular Cinderella.'

  'Are you mad, Stepfather? That's a mere coincidence. Those were Rachel's shoes,' Vince protested.

  'Then why didn't they fit her? You tried them yourself when she was recovered from the river. They kept falling off. The reason, although we were both too distressed to note its significance at the time, was that they were several sizes too large for her.

  'Why? Because they were Kathleen's shoes and it was Kathleen who ran away from you that night and climbed the ladder on the bridge.'

  'But how—how—'

  'Hear me out. It was Kathleen who climbed the ladder. But it was Rachel who plunged or was thrown to her death in the River Tay.'

  Chapter Nineteen

  Vince stared open-mouthed at Faro. 'What are you saying, Stepfather. We saw Rachel jump—'

  'No, we didn't. It was not Rachel. And she did not drown. She was probably already dead—'

  'But we were there when they took her from the river.'

  'Oh yes, two hours later. Time enough for her to give all the appearance of having drowned. A post-mortem, however, might have revealed that she was heavily drugged.'

  Vince continued to shake his head in bewilderment, gazing at his stepfather as if he had taken leave of his senses.

  Faro put a hand on his arm. 'Vince, lad, I know this is going to be terrible for you. But believe me, Rachel was probably already dead when her body plunged into the Tay. Drugged, carried up the iron pier by Deane in one of those huge baskets the workmen used for transporting materials from one level to another—'

  'But the letter I received,' Vince interrupted, having found his voice at last. 'That was from her. I knew her writing. I had other notes, dammit.'

  'Oh yes, indeed. She wrote the letter. I haven't the least doubt about that. She had been kept prisoner in the house since she returned from Errol. Carefully watched from the moment she announced to Deane that she was going to marry Dr Laurie. And what was more her grandfather would have been delighted when she told him.'

  Ignoring Vince's groan of anguish, Faro continued: 'Deane was desperate, so he shut her up in her room, explaining to everyone that she was suffering from one of her periodic bouts of madness. Vince, lad, Rachel was never mad. Wilful, difficult but more spoilt than anything by being a rich man's only granddaughter. But mad, no. The madness was dreamed up by Wilfred Deane. That was his invention.

  'He realised he couldn't keep her prisoner for ever. Time was running out for him. Rachel would inherit on her birthday. Meanwhile the police were investigating a possible fraud. And if he could not replace the vast sums of money he had been systematically embezzling from the firm, then he would be disgraced and go to jail.

  'He had to have Rachel's money to set the accounts right. He couldn
't drag her to the altar unwillingly or without her grandfather's permission, especially as the doting old man was prepared to accept her choice, namely the young doctor he had taken such a liking to.

  'There was only one way out. And so he decided to kill her, make it look like suicide. He didn't anticipate much difficulty in then getting the money from Sir Arnold on the grounds that a sick old man was incapable of handling the firm's finances. Everyone was sympathetic and the shareholders had known for some time now that Deane's was being run by Wilfred.

  'Perhaps he had been considering getting rid of Rachel also for some while. Certainly from that first moment he saw Kathleen in the factory and noticed that there was a resemblance.'

  Pausing he looked directly at Kathleen. 'Was that when he began to formulate what must have seemed like a clever but extraordinarily foolproof plan, using you as an innocent accessory?'

  When she turned away, he went on: 'But to return to that fatal evening on the bridge. He went to Rachel, said he had had a change of heart. He had decided to let her marry you after all, Vince. But she must go that night, elope, before anyone could stop her.

  'How eagerly then she must have written that note to you. Dear Wilfred was being so helpful, he even brought her one of the maid's dresses and a cheap shawl, a uniform garment which could easily be obtained for Kathleen too.'

  Looking at his stepson's white face, he said: 'I'm sorry, lad. This is very distressing for you. Because the moment Rachel wrote that note she had unknowingly signed her own death-warrant.

  'Deane then administered the drug, most likely in a cup of tea to fortify her for the journey, or by some other seemingly innocent means. Then he took her out in his carriage until the drugs took effect. He knew about Dr Ramsey's discoveries concerning Polly Briggs and so Rachel had to be kept alive to make it look like drowning for the Procurator Fiscal's report.

  'On the bridge the workmen had gone and it was already dark. He had bribed the night-watchman to look the other way while he carried in Rachel's body and deposited it in the basket. The watchman little realised that Deane would make sure he never lived to enjoy that substantial bribe, though I doubt if even he—unless he was a very good actor indeed-knew the contents of the basket he was helping his master to elevate by the pulleys up to the top platform.

  'Deane then climbed the ladder himself and began his vigil. There was one more assignation to keep before his plan could succeed.

  'And this is where you came in, Kathleen. What was it? How did he persuade you? Just one more impersonation.'

  'One more? What do you mean—one more? I swear—'

  Faro held up his hand. 'I mean this was the second time you had pretended to be Rachel Deane. The first was at Deane Hall when she denied ever having met Vince.'

  When she didn't reply, he said: 'I am right, am I not? Come along, Kathleen,' he added sharply. 'It's all gone too far to go back now. And you won't help anyone, least of all yourself, by concealing the truth.'

  Kathleen stared at him mutinously as if about to refuse. Then suddenly defeated, she said: 'All right, I'll tell you what happened. But I swear to God I'm innocent of Rachel Deane's death. I knew nothing of what he intended when I agreed to appear as Rachel Deane that first time for Vince's benefit. Only that he had made a wager with one of his friends.'

  She smiled. 'Wilfred loved gambling, he couldn't resist it. That was how he got heavily into debt. I didn't think his request was strange, because he often wagered on daft things. This one was that he could pass me off as Rachel Deane, to fool this friend who would be hiding behind the screen with him. It was, he said, all a bit of a lark but if he won the wager, a thousand guineas, then I should have as my reward my milliner's shop—this place.'

  'Paid for, as you now realise, by Rachel Deane's death,' said Faro grimly. 'Have I been right so far?'

  She shrugged. 'Yes, and I wish to God you hadn't. I would do anything to undo what happened that night.'

  'Pray continue.'

  'I never guessed that the reason he was first taken with me was that with dark hair instead of fair, he thought I could be made to look like Rachel. Then at a Saturday night social he heard my 'Song of the Forest', realised that as a born mimic I could probably imitate a human voice as easily as bird calls.'

  She sighed. 'I loved him right from the start. He convinced me that this impersonation was all a harmless joke to trick his friend, but I would have done anything for him, anyway. Whatever he asked without question.'

  'Did you ever meet this friend?'

  'No. I doubt now whether he ever existed. Just another lie,' she added with a bright bitter smile.

  'Did you ever go to London?'

  'No, that was for Uncle Willie's benefit, so that they wouldn't worry. I was to stay in Deane Hall. Of course in order to impersonate Rachel I had to spend some time with her. There was no difficulty.'

  'Did you never meet anyone?'

  'Sometimes I saw a maid in the distance who looked the other way—or dived into the linen cupboard, the way the gentry treat their servants.'

  'How was your presence explained to Rachel?'

  'Oh, that was easy. I was a dressmaker and milliner and very good at making wigs too. I ran a very exclusive establishment and only visited clients in their own house. I could be recommended. Rachel welcomed me. She was a trusting gentle creature, pretty and a bit vain.

  'She liked the idea of having a wig made too. It was quite usual in her station in life. She was as much a fool as I was. I stayed several days to give her fittings and by that time I could do an exact imitation of her voice. It wasn't too difficult after bird calls—the human voice, I mean.

  'Wilfred was very pleased. Although in a strong light I couldn't have fooled anyone, in a dimly lit room, with Rachel's voice, he said the result was quite uncanny.'

  'And as long as you didn't stand up,' added Faro, 'since you are two inches taller but more slightly built. Your face might pass muster but not the rest of you. And your feet and hands are larger too.'

  Pursing his lips, he studied her for a moment. 'That was another thing that bothered me. Why, in all that heat of passionate denouncement when you said you had never met Vince before in your life, you never once got up from that huge armchair, not even to ring the bell.'

  'I thought the difference in our shape would be noticeable.'

  'And of course, you couldn't hope to make these appearances too often.'

  'Wilfred had said only once at Deane Hall. Later he told me that it had been a dress rehearsal. The friend was making a fuss about a thousand guineas and was unwilling to pay it. He thought I had done very little. So there was to be one more appearance. The friend wanted something more daring before he would pay up.

  'He wanted to see Rachel Deane on the bridge in moonlight. I was scared at first, but Wilfred said it was quite safe and so I agreed. I would meet him on the bridge, wearing a bonnet to conceal my hair. He also insisted I wear a plain dress, like a maid's. And a plain bonnet. I couldn't think—and he wouldn't tell me—why he wanted two exactly the same.'

  'Because it was essential for his plan that you and Rachel were dressed alike. And of course you couldn't wear a wig this time. It might have fallen off. Then all would indeed have been revealed. When you attacked Vince, you entered the yard by the broken fence—'

  'Wilfred had arranged that, I knew exactly where to look for it.'

  'So you ran to the bridge, kicked off your shoes to make the climb easier. Tell me, why did you carry a stone in your reticule?'

  Kathleen looked uncomfortable.

  'Was that to deter Vince should he succeed in following you?'

  'I think that was what Wilfred intended,' she whispered, her eyes downcast.

  At Vince's horrified gasp she turned to face him. 'Don't look so shocked,' she said viciously. 'I never loved you. It was always him I wanted. I would have done anything for him. Anything. You meant nothing to me.'

  She snapped her fingers. 'Not even that much. Nothing at all.' />
  She began to weep noiselessly as Faro continued: 'May I tell you what happened next? When you climbed to the second platform behind the pier, you ducked back. Wilfred came forward and heaved Rachel's body from the bridge.'

  'I swear I didn't know that was what he was going to do. I was sick with fear. He told me later that she had to die or go into the bedlam. She was quite insane and he was doing her a kindness. I swear I would never have agreed, if I'd known it was just her money he was after. And that everything he had told me was a pack of lies.'

  There was a pause and Faro said, 'After it was done, you both waited until we ran down to the river. Then you both put on workmen's overalls and while all attention was diverted to the search for Rachel's body, you came back down the ladder. Two workmen who had been inspecting the scene of the accident.

  'Wilfred then discarded his overalls and reappeared as if he had just arrived. As a matter of interest, what did you do?'

  'I went to the station and took the morning train to Edinburgh.' Kathleen wrung her hands. 'I was horrified by what had happened. You have to believe me, I never had any idea until that night that he intended to murder Rachel.'

  'Although you knew he had murdered before. When he got rid of Polly Briggs.'

  Her face flushed guiltily. 'I don't know anything about that.'

  'You might as well admit it, Kathleen. It will all come out in court. But this time you were not involved. Although you must have had your suspicions.'

  'Oh all right then. Polly Briggs was jealous when she saw that Wilfred liked me. She was determined to get even so she struck up with a fellow high up in the office. Charlie something-or-other.'

  'Charlie McGowan?'

  'Yes, him. She told me he wanted to marry her but he had a wife already. And the wife had found out and was going to leave him. Then she told me an extraordinary story that Charlie was hoping to go into partnership with Deane's. He was very clever at his job, but he had also found out something that would give him a hold over Wilfred Deane.'

  'And you told him?'

  Again she coloured. 'Of course I did. I thought it was only proper to warn him. I didn't want him to go to prison. I would have done anything to save him from that.'