But for me this was no comedy.
This was a horrifying moment of truth.
We were in the front row and as the curtain fell, rose again, more applause, and as the actors took their bow, I was looking into the face of Adrian and knew that I had met the bogus Miss Hinton at last.
I wanted to tell Jack, longing to get him alone.
He took my arm. 'Gray has invited us to share their carriage. Wait here till I find them.'
I saw Amy at the entrance, looking round anxiously, obviously waiting for her friends. She saw me, waved and pushed her way towards me.
'Thank God, Rose. I've been trying to talk to you. It's been awful.'
I murmured politely that I was sorry she hadn't enjoyed the performance.
'No, Rose. Not this. I've been trying to tell you, ever since we had tea at your house.' She stopped, gulped, shook her head. 'That actor, Prince Charlie - the young girl Beth's fiance ...'
She paused dramatically. 'Rose, he's the man who was bullying poor Mary before ... before ...' She gulped, trying to stay calm. 'The man I saw outside her house. I tell you, it's the same man, that actor. And what's worse, Jane found some of Mary's photographs and although I never said a word to her, I'm certain sure that he's the ne'er-do-well nephew. He must have been trying to get money and the house from poor Mary. I was utterly shocked when we met him at your house that day with that lovely young girl. Someone should warn her - he's a villain.'
A feeling of chill and disbelief swept over me. It was my turn to stay calm. 'Surely not, Amy. How can you be sure? You could be mistaken; after all, old photographs and you only caught a glimpse of him.'
She shook her head. 'True enough. But his voice - very distinctive it is. Remember, I was an elocution teacher, voices are my business. I would have recognised his anywhere.'
Her friends were making urgent signs in our direction. 'I must go.' I was staring after her when Jack reappeared. In the shared carriage with the Grays, I tried to concentrate on polite conversation, my mind in turmoil.
We were set down at the Tower and had hardly closed the door when Jack turned to me, demanding, 'Well, what's wrong with you, Rose?'
I laid aside my cloak, shook my head, unable to think where to begin as he went on, 'You seemed very off-key. Didn't you enjoy the evening?'
He sounded disappointed and I sat down and told him all, finishing with Amy's revelations. He listened silently.
I had been fairly certain that there were two involved, that the killer had a female accomplice, the bogus Hinton who had tried to steal the legacy and push me off the train. But seeing him as Flora MacDonald's maid was my moment of truth - and on top of that, Amy recognising him as the bullying man.
I looked at Jack sitting there saying nothing. I thought he would be very excited by this new information, but, being Jack, he merely shrugged before proceeding to tear my revelations into fine shreds.
'All very dramatic, Rose. Of course, I believe your story but alas, as you must realise, it is only circumstantial evidence. There isn't a single clue we could use as evidence in all this. We can hardly arrest Adrian because in female dress he resembles the woman who tried to kill you. Think about it, Rose--'
'But I am sure--'
He cut short my protests and went on, 'All I can say is that Gray would tell you that a dozen actors in that disguise would have looked like your bogus Miss Hinton, and insist that you imagined the whole thing - felt faint on the train, tried to open the window for air, opened the door instead and the woman was trying to stop you falling.'
He paused and sighed. 'As for Amy Dodd, Gray would want more than her claim that she recognised a man - whom she had merely glimpsed - by his voice, even if she was an elocution teacher.'
I knew it was useless to protest any further. And he was right about Gray's reactions, especially as I had an unhappy thought that Jack possibly shared them but did not want to hurt my feelings.
I didn't sleep much that night, troubled by nightmares. And when I lay awake afraid to go to sleep again my thoughts turned to Beth. If my suspicions and Amy's were true, and Adrian was a killer, where did that leave Beth? What sort of a future lay ahead, dispossessed by her parents, for this young girl with a baby?
Of course, she had said that Frederick wanted to marry her, but was that merely in her imagination too? Would he still want to do so when the publicity of her liaison with a murderer hit the newspaper headlines? What about his own reputation damaged by association?
I thought of Adrian, the splendid actor, remembering when he visited the Tower with Beth. He seemed such a nice pleasant fellow, he didn't look like a killer. But then Jack would say, and I knew also from my own experience, murderers usually looked no different to the ordinary fellows you met in the street on their way to work every day.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Jack arrived home earlier than usual that day. He had the afternoon off, kind permission of Gray, to compensate for having been on call since he came back from Peebles.
'I thought we might go out to Joppa and see Meg.'
I decided that was a great idea and he went on, 'And I have some other news. The dead man at the loch has now been identified. He is Steven Sawler.'
'Adrian's friend!' I gasped. 'The missing actor! Beth told me Adrian said he was in London.'
It was all becoming clear now as Jack said: 'He was identified by Con when he was in the mortuary with an accident victim's relative. He was very upset. Sawler had encouraged his stage ambitions, tried to get him bit parts with the Portobello Players.'
Jack paused, sighed. 'And since Gray thinks he was murdered, we're now looking for another killer and we're interviewing Adrian at that boarding house where they both lodged.'
It had all the makings of an open-and-shut case; considering my own suspicions of Adrian, confirmed by the play last night, and Amy's revelations, he must have invented Steven's London audition.
Again my first thoughts flew to Beth and Nanny Craigle. Police interviews were always an ordeal even for the innocent.
I looked at the theatre programme which I had read briefly at the performance: 'John Cope played by Steven Sawler.'
A sudden thought. 'For Sawler, read Lawers - both are variations of Reslaw,' I said, remembering how Beth said Steven was always going on about his ancestors. 'Perhaps he is the missing link with Simon Reslaw.'
'And thirty thousand pounds in chewed-up paper the reason for three murders,' Jack added grimly. 'With our prime suspect now conveniently dead. Oh, almost forgot, met our postman toiling up the hill. Here - he was delivering this letter.'
It was from Jane Hinton, thanking me for tea that afternoon, saying how she had enjoyed our meeting and so forth. And adding that she had been rereading through those old letters, she wrote, 'Do you remember me telling you that Mrs Lawers had married her first cousin, Andrew Lawers, so she hadn't changed her maiden name?'
I put the letter down. Of course. It was all beginning to fall into place, the reason for this legacy being passed from one generation to another and reaching Mary Lawers who, either refusing to acknowledge the existence of a nephew of dubious parentage, or fearing she was not long for this world, her memory fading, believed that the distant cousin in Lochandor was the last of the line and became obsessed with the idea of getting the legacy to him.
As Jack read the letter, I told him my own theory. That it was the nephew, Steven Sawler, or Reslaw, who had heard the story of the missing thirty thousand. Beth had been so excited about Adrian's expectations - perhaps Steven had realised help was needed if he was to be successful and confided in Adrian, who had not been unwilling to come to his aid. So the two of them had set about recovering a fortune hidden in 1745 in the region of Arthur's Seat by Steven's ancestor, certain that the secret of its whereabouts must lie in Mrs Lawers' legacy. 'Thinking about it,' I concluded, 'the reality seemed a forlorn hope, but to two impoverished actors it doubtless promised a lifetime of ease and luxury, the world indeed becoming their oyster.'
This was a new twist. I knew from Beth that Adrian would do anything for Steven, his hero. Had the latter realised that, since Adrian had a dubious kinship, he was the perfect person to help him achieve his dream?
If I expected congratulations in having unravelled the mystery, I was disappointed. Jack's reality at that moment was meeting Meg, who he shamefully admitted he had not seen for far too long an interval in the life of a three-year-old child.
As we went to Joppa, I could see that Jack, although nervous of this encounter, was impressed by the exterior of the handsome villa where the Blakers lived.
The housekeeper opened the door and ushered us into the sitting room. A moment later, Mrs Blaker appeared. She recognised me immediately but regarded Jack in some surprise.
Not waiting to be introduced, he stepped forward eagerly, held out his hand. 'We have come to see my daughter Meg. I hope this visit is convenient.'
Mrs Blaker stared at him, opened her mouth, shut it again and sat down heavily on the nearest chair. 'That cannot be,' she said, shaking her head, her voice trembling; she looked pale, ready to faint.
'That cannot be!' she repeated, staring up at Jack. 'Mr Macmerry called for Meg last Thursday. He wished to take her to visit her grandparents for a few days. We could not refuse this request. Oh dear God,' she groaned.
It was Jack's turn to go pale. Rigid at my side, I clutched his arm for support while he took out a police card, the proof of his identity, and handed it to the distraught woman on the sofa.
With the two of us trying desperately to be calm and Mrs Blaker now in tears, sobbing, the housekeeper appeared wondering what the disturbance was about, and seeing her mistress's distress immediately applied the much needed smelling salts, murmuring, 'There, there, madam.'
Mrs Blaker looked up at her. 'Mrs Robb, this ... this gentleman is Mr Macmerry ... the man who took Meg--Oh dear God.' And collapsed again.
The housekeeper was clearly shocked but remained calm and Jack decided he would get more sense out of her.
'Do you mind if we sit down?' he said. 'You opened the door - can you describe the man?'
Mrs Robb said, 'Oh yes, he was about forty, clean-shaven. I never doubted him, sir - you see, he was wearing a policeman's uniform, carrying his helmet.'
That shook me - the bogus policeman again.
Mrs Robb looked ready to join her mistress in tears. 'I brought him through here to the mistress, went upstairs to collect Meg from the nursery and pack a few things.'
Jack, with admirable calm in the face of such dreadful news, turned to Mrs Blaker and said quietly, 'And how did Meg react to this man?'
'When he said "I'm your pa, Meg, come to take you on holiday" Meg looked as if she wasn't quite sure what a holiday meant and I said, "You'll be coming back home, dear." The man was holding out his hand. She looked at me - bewildered, a bit frightened - and ... and then she went over and took his hand.'
Mrs Blaker began to cry again. 'I watched them leave. He had a carriage waiting. Oh Mr Macmerry,' she wailed, 'what have I done? I should have been protecting her, and I've let some vile man kidnap your little daughter. Who could have done such a cruel thing to a little girl? What can we do?' she repeated helplessly, looking ready to faint, Mrs Robb at her elbow.
There was nothing we could do. We were days too late, the trail already cold. I felt awful but my heart went out to Jack who looked dreadful, his face white, set in stone, trying his best to console Mrs Blaker that it was not her fault - never having met him anyone could have made the same mistake - and assuring her, which I wanted to believe but couldn't at that moment, that all would be well and that Meg would be found.
We left the two women, and in the carriage I took Jack's hand. He grasped it tightly until the pressure made me cry out. He apologised, and leaning back, he groaned.
'What next - what will we do?' I asked. And echoing Mrs Blaker's words, 'Who could have done this, who could have taken her? And why your child, Jack? I don't understand.'
Jack shook his head, stared out of the window, seeing a grimmer prospect than the passing street.
'She's been kidnapped, Rose. We don't know why - yet. But maybe this has nothing to do with me personally, maybe I'm just a link in the chain. We'll soon find out,' he added grimly.
And I knew he was thinking of the thirty thousand pounds when he said, 'There will be a demand for a ransom. In fact, I'm surprised they've delayed contacting me. In these cases usually it's the next day - why the interval? What are they waiting for?'
I didn't want to be left alone, but I had Thane and Jack needed to report straight away to the Central Office.
He held me briefly at the door and said, 'I know you're worried sick, so am I. But I've handled kidnap cases before; there's a definite pattern.'
I tried to be consoled, but those kidnappings were not personal cases and this one was his own daughter.
'We'll maybe need money, so I'd better see what I've got in the bank,' he said shortly.
Then he was gone and I was left with Thane, who had been regarding us with the anxious expression that said his humans were in trouble. And because there was no one else I told him what had happened and he moved closer to my side, a gesture meant to be reassuring. But what could a deerhound do against kidnappers?
Jack knew the procedure but so did I. Kidnapping was a hanging offence, and if the kidnappers didn't get the ransom they were demanding, they were quite likely to kill the child and disappear. They could not risk their victim falling into police hands and telling all. Not even a small child. No trail must be left.
This was one of the worst days in my life, and I did not dare to leave the Tower just in case. I hoped the ransom note would not be delivered while Jack was absent. But that was exactly what happened.
There was a knock at the kitchen door and I opened it. A man stood there, hat pulled well down over grey hair, eyes invisible under heavy eyebrows. A muffler to his chin completed the disguise, making certain that he would never be recognised again.
A hoarse voice. 'Afternoon, madam. I have a message for Mr Macmerry.'
There was no use pretending otherwise - I felt certain that he knew I was alone in the house.
'I will not beat about the bush. Give Mr Macmerry this message. If he wishes to see his daughter again, alive, he is to take a thousand pounds and leave it under a loose stone on the rim above the Wells o' Wearie.' The ancient well was half a mile from the Tower. 'Meanwhile I will accept a package from you, madam, a package containing documents given you by the late Mrs Lawers, just for any trouble and as a goodwill insurance that no ill will befall the little girl while her father assembles the required ransom.'
'I haven't any idea what you are talking about,' I said.
He moved forward menacingly, with a gun pointed at my heart. 'Don't try my patience, lady.'
As I backed away from him, moving further into the kitchen, I touched the derringer in my pocket. I could kill or wound him severely. As if he knew my intentions he said, 'Remember, if anything happens to me, the child will be disposed of immediately. So, the package if you please.'
I shook my head and at that moment a floorboard creaked at his heels. No human footfall, no other presence except for Thane and myself. But the noise was so loud that it completely threw him off guard.
He swivelled round. And Thane leapt, knocking him to the ground and pinning him to the floor.
He yelled. 'Call your dog off. Remember, if I die the girl dies too.'
Suddenly the door opened, and there was Jack with Gray, and never had I been so glad to see a bevy of uniformed policemen surging into my kitchen.
As Jack called Thane off, the man was dragged to his feet and Gray stepped forward. Pulling off the bonnet and grey wig he arrested Adrian Dyce on suspicion of committing three murders.
It was my turn to feel rather ill as they led him away, cursing his captors. Jack put his arm around me.
I said, 'Thank God you got here in time.'
He nod
ded. 'Gray has had his eye on Adrian for some time on suspicion of drug smuggling, and we're pretty certain he killed Steven.' It fitted what Nanny Craigle had said and my theory that, far from being friends, Adrian was heavily under Steven's influence, as Jack continued.
'As you so rightly worked out, we'll find that he was Sawler's accomplice. Together they hoped to find the treasure. But thieves fall out. Maybe Adrian got greedy, decided he could go it alone, pretty certain that there was thirty thousand pounds hidden in the Tower here.'
I hesitated for a moment and then said, 'Jack, I haven't told you before, but the policeman who lured me to the hospital to break into the house. I'm pretty sure that it was Steven.'
Jack looked at me. 'How do you know?'
'Well, it was one or the other of them. Adrian was the bogus maid, but he's smaller and slimmer than Steven.'
Jack frowned. 'And he could have known I was in the hospital. It was in all the local papers.'
He paused and then said gently, 'Why on earth didn't you tell me all this at the time? About the burglary? I certainly would never have gone to Eildon and left you on your own.'
'Which is precisely why I kept it to myself. And there had been no damage done. However, I thought I recognised the dead man at the loch as the policeman.'
'And you still didn't mention that important fact.'
I shrugged and he said sternly, 'Withholding vital information, Rose, which would have been of considerable help, as well as saving precious time while we were trying to establish his identity.'
'If I had told you, then Gray would have wanted a lot more information.'
'For a murder you intended to solve yourself, of course,' Jack said mockingly. 'Rose, that was a chronically wrong decision. You must know that.'
'With hindsight, I suppose so,' I admitted reluctantly. 'All I knew was that I had solved several murders on my own.'
'And may I remind you, several times almost lost your life.' Jack shook his head. 'You must have used up more than a cat's nine lives.' He took my hand. 'This is all about Gray - your own personal feud, isn't it? A matter of female pride, not allowing him to catch the criminal, beating him to it because he refuses to take your role as a lady investigator seriously.'
Rose McQuinn 7 - Deadly Legacy Page 20