Faro looked at Alison, who clapped her hands delightedly. "Yes, Jeremy, of course you must come with us."
Faro allowed himself to be persuaded but he was bitterly disappointed. He had been looking forward to taking Alison to Musselburgh on the horse-drawn railway, to having a day alone with her. She had clearly forgotten all about their arrangement and now, apparently, if he was to enjoy her company at all, it must be within the group of Vince's young friends.
The picnic spot had been suggested by Vince. He was to be the leader. Mrs. Brook was prevailed upon to pack up the remnants of the birthday feast and wine, which pleased her since the tea table groaned with enough food to feed a regiment.
It was a merry party who dispersed for the theatre in gleeful anticipation that the perfect weather Edinburgh was at present enjoying would hold for a few days longer.
When at last Faro and Vince took their seats in the Pleasance Theatre, the curtain rose on Antony and Cleopatra. Faro had only seen Alison thus far in Othello, and here was a vastly different portrayal. Unbelievable, he thought, watching the exquisite, irresistible Queen of the Nile, whose beauty turned men to clay in her small hands and "kiss'd away kingdoms and provinces". That "a lass unparallel'd" could on a different night be the simple, innocent, hero-worshipping Desdemona.
Even Topaz Trelawney's Antony was a mercifully subdued performance, although his "I am dying, Egypt, dying" raised a misguided cheer from a rowdy element in the audience. When Cleopatra died with the asp at her breast, the scene was so heart-stopping, and Faro was so absorbed into believing what he saw, that he felt the curtain should rise on her lifeless form. That was how she should be remembered, not smiling hand-in-hand with a posturing Antony to a tumultuous, ear-splitting ovation.
He felt dazed as they left the theatre, it having been decided that everyone needed to retire early in order to catch the early morning ferry across to Fife, carriages having been arranged to transport them to Queensferry.
Vince declined the invitation to accompany Rob and Walter to Rutherford's and walked rather sharply in the direction of Sheridan Place.
"I've had enough birthday celebrations for one year," he said in answer to Faro's question. "And I have an infernal toothache—all those iced cakes. A hot toddy and I think I'll turn in. Of course—I'll be right as rain in the morning."
When morning came, Vince looked round the door, weary and heavy-eyed. "Been up all night with this damnable tooth. I think it's abscessed. I feel like death, and a picnic would be the final straw. Be a good soul, Stepfather, give them my apologies. Of course you must go. Everyone is depending on it." And without further comment, he retreated once more into his darkened bedroom.
Groans of disappointment greeted Vince's non-arrival, and Marie looked particularly sad. An hour later, however, the party had regained their cheerful anticipation and were stepping down from the ferry after a remarkably smooth and pleasant crossing of the River Forth.
A pretty wooded dell was their destination.
"It's the perfect picnic spot for a perfect summer day," said Faro, who had been appointed their leader, as the little group followed him triumphant through summer sounds of insects busy with their hidden world, to a chorus of seabirds, and larks rising high in the swaying long grass.
As they spread out the cloth on the grass, they found their activities keenly observed by timid rabbits, and even a shy squirrel put in an appearance. Rob had brought his flute along and there was a great deal of merriment, which irritated Faro, as the sun heralded time's passing and he realised that he was to have no time alone with Alison. No time, and so much he wanted to tell her.
At last Hugo intoned in his best Shakespearean imitation of Topaz Trelawney, "Enough, good Sir Rob. Put aside merriment, forsooth. 'Music, moody food, Of us that trade in love.' Come, my
sweeting," and taking Beth's hand, they raced towards the wood, their laughter echoing back to the group of friends. Soon other couples had similar ideas, and Marie too found herself a Sunday-afternoon suitor.
To his considerable joy and relief, Faro saw that he and Alison, busily gathering up the remnants of the picnic, were alone. At last she leaned against the mossy bank, hands behind her head, staring up at the sky.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she said. "So warm, so peaceful. A truly perfect summer's day. Just look at that sky."
Faro had removed his jacket, rolled back his shirtsleeves, and lay back beside her, their bare arms touching.
"'Sometimes we see a cloud that dragonish; a vapour sometimes like a bear or lion, a tower'd citadel . . .' What's next?"
"'A pendent rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory, With trees upon't,'" Alison supplied softly. "What is it you see, Jeremy?"
Faro looked down at her. "You. Only you, my dear." And leaning over, he kissed her gently on the lips.
"Idiot," but she was smiling and she made no resistance. "Dear idiot."
"I grant you that. I think I am idiotically, wildly in love with you. What have you to say to that on your perfect summer's day?" And kneeling, he began to gather her into his arms.
This time there was no gentle response, no acquiescence. She sprang away from him, her eyes searching. "No, no—"
"Don't concern yourself about our young friends," he whispered, "I hardly imagine they have disappeared to gather wildflowers."
"No, Jeremy. No, I say." She evaded his hands and sat bolt upright. "I am not concerned with our young friends, only with you. I absolutely forbid you to fall in love with me."
"You cannot do that-you are too late."
"I am not too late to discourage you." Her eyes, regarding him, were tragic, haunted. "Be my friend, be anything, but do not seek to be my lover-I implore you."
"What if I don't wish any of those roles, but something much more permanent in your life?"
For a moment as she looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. "You dear, dear man. Have you seriously considered what you are suggesting? Not even you, I am sure, can imagine me in the role of a policeman's wife." Her laugh was harsh. "Oh my dear, it is too preposterous for words." And, seeing his expression, she touched his arm gently. "Jeremy, don't let me hurt you-I don't want that. I am leaving Edinburgh soon and our paths are unlikely ever to cross again."
"Unless we want them to . . ."
She nodded. "Oh yes, then the world would not be too wide to hold us apart. But you see, I don't love you ..."
"You might, given time," he said desperately, conscious that he had lost her already.
"That is not the way it happens—not for me. I have loved only twice in my whole life and I now know with certainty that it is a process I will never—no, I can never—repeat." She looked at him. "But had we two met—in some other circumstances—I think I might have loved you."
"Hello there—hello?" The echoing calls from the wood announced the return of those other lovers, many with flushed countenances and a certain amount of disarray which announced that they had been more successful in their wooing than Faro.
The ferry's arrival was delayed by engine trouble, difficult to set right on a Sunday, and there was a considerable delay before they restarted. The boatman who made the announcement added, "I hope ye all have warm clothes," and pointing up at the sky, "See those clouds gathering? Weather's changing. See how the water's ruffled? We're in for a bad spell, mark my words. We'll have storms before nightfall."
The picnic party accepted this setback to their day with good-natured resilience and decided that they might as well consume the rest of the food and indulge in songs and music, accompanied by Rob's flute, until the repairs were carried out.
It was dark and the rain was falling steadily when at last the ferry limped into Queensferry again. Once again the engine failed, half-way across the river, and had to wait for tugs to pull it into the little harbour.
Alison had said little. Like everyone else she seemed tired, irritated by the long delays. Faro offered to see her to Mrs. Penny's and was surprised when she accepted.
&nb
sp; "I have some magical drops for the toothache, given to me years ago by an old African chief. All the cast swear by them. I'm sorry I cannot let you borrow them. Often at night, a persistently nagging tooth keeps me sleepless. I am too much of a coward to have it removed, so I always have the drops by me. But I'd be happy to come back with you, and administer a dose to poor Vince."
They arrived in Sheridan Place in a heavy downpour, and all Faro's thoughts about Alison and her obstinate refusal to fall in love with him were completely obliterated by the scene that was awaiting them.
Chapter 14
Faro let himself in and, directing Alison up to the drawing-room, went in search of Vince. He found him in Mrs. Brook's basement kitchen, her normally pristine well-scrubbed table festooned with bloodied linen. His clothes torn, head and hand bandaged, Vince was leaning back in a chair while Mrs. Brook attended to his broken face.
Mrs. Brook turned to Faro, very near to tears. "Here's a terrible thing, Inspector. Poor lad here, near murdered. Set upon coming home, he was."
Faro looked down at him. Where was beauty now? Vince's eyes were swollen, half-closed, his lips bleeding. He looked barely conscious. Faro took his hand, bleeding and bruised, nails broken.
"Vince, lad?"
Vince opened his eyes with difficulty. "Hello, Stepfather."
"Who did this to you?"
"Keelies."
Mrs. Brook hovered. "If you think this is bad, Inspector, you should have seen him when that nice polis, McQuinn, carried him home. I hardly recognised him, covered in blood he was, the poor lamb."
"McQuinn, you say?"
"Gone now. If it hadn't been for him, I would have been killed. God, I can never thank him enough. Saved my life. That's fine, Mrs. Brook. Fine now." He struggled to his feet. "Thank you—no more. No bones broken, thank God ..."
"... for small mercies," added Mrs. Brook. "Such wickedness in a nice respectable neighbourhood. I don't know what this world is coming to, that I don't."
"Let's go upstairs, Stepfather. All right now. I can manage."
Faro settled him in the armchair and poured out a large glass from the decanter on the table.
"Thanks, Stepfather. I'll try not to spill your best brandy." He drank it at a gulp. "Sorry not to savour it in the proper fashion—that's better."
"I think we'll consider this medicinal. Here, have another." Watching him sip slowly and painfully this time, Faro asked, "Now, what happened?"
"I'm glad to see you again. Did you have a splendid time in Fife?"
"Yes, Mrs. Aird's upstairs. With something for your toothache."
"Toothache—God, I need more than that. What a kindly thought—I'm grateful ..."
"Vince—for God's sake—I'm waiting to be told what happened to you."
"My infernal toothache got worse. Went to see Doctor Kellar and, much against his will, it being the Sabbath and so forth, he extracted it. God, that was agony. I felt even worse, groggy, wretched." He looked at Faro doubtfully, then said, "I have these friends who open the backdoor of their howff on Sundays—just for a few friends ..."
"Strictly illegal—I don't think I should know about that."
"Illegal or not, it saved my sanity. I'll spare you the details, but I left rather late and, feeling much improved, called in at Mrs. Penny's to make my excuses to the divine Marie—and found that none of you had returned. I didn't attach a great deal of importance to that, but decided, as the effects of many restorative drams were wearing off, that I'd better make my way home. Took the short cut, down Gibbet Lane."
"Which you should know is notorious for lurking footpads after dark. You were taking a chance—all the scum from the Warrens at Wormwoodhall gather there, hoping for a kill."
"Which they damned near got!" He sighed. "I was tired, drunk too, I must admit. Makes one reckless. Anyway—keelies set on me. If it hadn't been for McQuinn appearing when I was still able to yell for help, I'd be dead."
"I'll get his report at the office. I presume he set off in hot pursuit immediately after bringing you home."
"I rather think not."
"He damned well should have done. That's the rule. Quickly attend the victim, then pursue the attacker. He'll have the Superintendent to answer, if he hasn't reported in immediately."
"Because the victim is your stepson?" Vince smiled through swollen lips. "All I lost besides my pride was my purse and a shilling—not much in it after a night's illegal drinking." He paused, and with a shrewd glance at Faro, said, "You'd like to get McQuinn on this, wouldn't you?"
"That's beside the point. He knows the procedure."
"In this instance, if he hasn't done his duty, it is because I asked him not to."
"You—what? After what they did to you?"
"That's right. You see, I'm not the only one they're after. I was just the beginning—it's you next—and maybe Mrs. Aird."
"Mrs.Aird?"
"Thought that would bring you up sharp in your tracks. Ouch. God, I shouldn't laugh, hurts like hell."
"Vince, what's this about Mrs. Aird?"
"I'd better tell you the whole story."
"Yes—and if you can bear it, start at the beginning—and I want all the details."
"When they jumped me, I didn't stand a cat in hell's chance. Even if I hadn't been a bit unsteady with the drink, I couldn't have fought them off. Anyway, when the big fellow held me and rifled my pockets, I thought that was all they wanted. The next thing ..." He stopped and took a quick drink, "... the next thing, they had me down on the ground, kicking at me everywhere with their great boots. I thought I was a goner and that their leader—a great brute of a fellow—was going to use his boot to kick my face in, when suddenly he sat me up, took hold of my coat lapels."
"This big fellow—what was he like?"
"It was pretty dark, but he was built like a barn door. Black hair, beard—"
"Black Tam o' Leith," said Faro. "He and his lads have been on our books for a long while. Robbery with violence. We got his nephew behind bars last week."
"In my case I suspect they were more interested in the violence. This black devil's foul breath was on my face and he said. 'I'll let you go this time, Doctor Laurie.'"
"Doctor Laurie—so he knew who you were?"
Vince nodded. "Oh yes, he knew. "If we went any further, it would be murder, ye ken that, laddie. That we could destroy you, finish you off. That would give my lads the greatest pleasure. But what we've done to you is just to show your stepfather a bit of what might happen to someone like himself and that fancy actress of his—her that goes to the Quaker Mission. Tell him to leave me and mine in peace—or else!'"
"The Quaker Mission? I suppose the children told him." Alison had come in quietly and was leaning against the door, her face pale with shock.
"Or had it beaten out of them, more likely," said Faro.
"Oh, Vince, my dear." Alison ran across and, kneeling by his side, took his hands, stroked back his hair, murmured soothing words. It was a scene unexpectedly maternal which smote Faro's heart with love renewed.
Vince was holding out his glass. "Yes, please, I'd love another drink."
Alison glanced quickly at Faro before going to the table with its decanters and water carafe.
"I'm used to being threatened," said Faro. "Think nothing about it, a hazard of the job. But to use my family ..."
Alison was again kneeling by Vince's side. "Drink this."
"Ugh—what's this? Water?"
"Yes, my dear. And you're going to have a good sleep, which is what you need most. It's only laudanum."
A sudden growl of thunder shook the room, followed by the angry hiss of rain, like the arrows of an army in search of the three frightened people beleaguered, crouching, behind the room's closed shutters.
Alison shivered. "I have a request. May I stay here for the night? I am—I am so afraid to go home. I know I shall never sleep, and besides I might be of more use where I can look after him."
"Mrs. Brook can do that
—besides we have no spare bedroom prepared ..."
"You have several comfortable sofas—a rug is all I need." And looking into Faro's stern face with tragic haunted eyes, she whispered, "I beg you, let me stay. I had a son once."
Faro slept little that night. Occasionally he awoke to hear a creaking board or movements in the kitchen below, a tap turned on. Once he went downstairs and found Alison making tea.
"What time is it?"
"Dawn," she said. "Listen to the birds. The storm is over, all is well with the world again."
"Vince?"
"I have kept my vigil. He is sleeping soundly. Now have some tea, it will refresh you. No?" She put a hand on his arm. "And do not look so worried, Jeremy. Go back to sleep!" And, standing on tiptoe, she kissed him lightly on the cheek.
"I won't sleep ..."
"Would you like some of my magic drops?"
He looked at her, conscious that his heart was in his eyes and that the most magical of all would be to make love to her against that dawn chorus. Afterwards, how he would sleep!
When he came downstairs again at eight o'clock, she had gone and Vince was in the breakfast room. In bright sunlight, his broken face looked even worse than by lamplight.
Faro groaned. "As Christ is my witness, I'll get Big Tam for this—if it's the last thing I do . . ."
"Careful, Stepfather—it might be just that."
"Look, lad, this is a situation I'm used to. There are always petty criminals out for my blood, and I wouldn't have thought Black Tam had enough imagination to try to get at me through you—but I've got to do my duty, whatever he threatened. He must be desperate ..."
"To hell with your duty, Stepfather—hear me out, will you?"
"Of course, lad."
"You are not the only intended victim. If you don't care about yourself, have a care for her—"
"Her?"
"Mrs. Aird. Remember his warning—"
"But why, for God's sake—what's she done?"
"Oh, that's easy—they seem to have eyes and ears, these naughty lads. They seem to know what you're both up to."
At the glint of amusement in his stepson's eyes, Faro shuffled uncomfortably. Vince made his innocent relationship with Alison sound like an illicit grande passion. If only it were true.
Enter Second Murderer (An Inspector Faro Mystery No.1) Page 14