The Bull Slayers: Inspector Faro No 9 (14 page)

'Wait a moment,' Faro interrupted. 'You mean that there
was something to hush up - like foul play?'

'Well,' said Dewar reluctantly, 'that's what I thought.'

'How so?'

Dewar shrugged. 'This actor arrives in the village and takes
a room at the inn. He starts asking about Her Ladyship. Seems
he was an old chum, they have been on the boards in London.
Next thing we knew, he's cleared off in a carriage taking him to
the Castle, to be the guest of the Elriggs, to entertain Mr
Osbourne - on one of his visits. Must have been there for about a week, when he and Mr Osbourne went out riding together.'

He paused, frowning. 'Mr Osbourne came back alone, so we
are told. They had parted company. No one took much notice
of the fact that Mr Gray was missing at dinner that evening. It
wasn't until next morning, when the maids discovered his bed
hadn't been slept in, that the alarm was raised. The servants
were a bit worried about that, especially the housekeeper, who thought he'd maybe gone off with the silver. You can never tell
with that class of people, sir.

'We were alerted but we weren't permitted to question Mr
Osbourne personally. All we had was what he told His
Lordship, that he and Mr Gray had ridden as far as the
pastureland at the edge of the estate and he, Mr Osbourne, was
feeling tired and decided to return.

'That was all we had to go on. We set out and there he was,
poor gentleman, lying dead in the copse beside the hillfort. He'd
been gored by one of the wild cattle. There was no doubt about
that. A dreadful accident. The Coroner and Sir Archie were all
for having it cleared as quickly as possible. Didn't want it
getting into the newspapers, with royalty involved.'

He looked at Faro. 'I've often thought that it was odd
finding His Lordship in the same place. Died the same way too.
A strange coincidence, don't you think?'

Faro made no comment, thinking that any other police than
Elrigg would have thought it also suspicious enough to merit
immediate investigation.

At that moment they were interrupted as Mrs Dewar came
out of the house, drying her hands on her apron.

'Food's ready, Sandy.' And, seeing Faro, she smiled. 'Is this
the gentleman you were telling me about?'

She bobbed a curtsy as they were introduced, looking very
impressed. 'Won't you take a bite to eat with us, sir?'

'Aye, do that,' said Dewar. 'Jessie can beat the inn for
anything they might produce. And it's steak pie -'

'Go on with you, Sandy,' said Mrs Dewar. 'Can't have Mr
Faro expecting too much. It's all simple food.'

As they led the way into the house, he heard her murmur to
her husband, 'He's younger than I thought he'd be. And my,
isn't he handsome?'

Faro ate at the Dewars' kitchen table with its welcoming fire
and even more welcoming smell of freshly baked pies. The
vacant place opposite him was set for Sergeant Yarrow, the constable explained: 'We don't have many meals together. I go
on duty when he comes off so that the station is manned during the day. He boards with us, has the spare room upstairs. House
is too big for Jessie and me since the lads left the nest.'

'Came to look for a place of his own. But somehow he just
stayed on and we've got used to having him.' Mrs Dewar
looked round from piling extra potatoes on their plates. 'He's such a nice kind thoughtful man. Just like one of the family.
More pie, Mr Faro?'

Faro declined the offer and Mrs Dewar continued: 'He's not
a bit of trouble. He'd make a grand husband for some lucky
lady, I tell him.'

Dewar laughed. 'Jessie's always trying to marry him off.
There's no such thing as single blessedness for her.'

'A crime against nature, that's what it is, God never meant his creatures to live solitary lives,' Mrs Dewar protested.

'A bachelor, is he?' said Faro.

'Not him, more's the pity. His wife died around the time of
his accident.'

'Aye, and he misses her. I often see him looking at her
photograph when I take him in his tea,' sighed Mrs Dewar. 'I
think he was glad to start a new life here, away from all the
memories.'

Pausing, she looked across the table at Faro. 'Are you a
married man yourself?'

Faro shook his head. 'Like your Sergeant, I'm a widower.
My wife died in childbirth eight years ago.'

'How sad,' tut-tutted Mrs Dewar. 'You're all alone too, sir?'

'Not quite. I have two little girls living with their granny up
in Orkney.'

'Orkney?' Mrs Dewar frowned. 'That's a fair distance from
Edinburgh, isn't it?'

Faro smiled. 'It is indeed. But my wife was married before
and I have a stepson living with me. He's a doctor.'

'That's nice for you. You'll have another spoonful of
dumpling?'

'Yes, thank you, Mrs Dewar. That was absolutely delicious.'

As Mrs Dewar beamed, very liberal with the jam sauce, they
heard the back door open.

'Talk of the devil,' said Dewar. 'That's the Sergeant now. I'll
need to take over, Jessie,' he added, scraping his plate.

Faro wished he could have had a moment in private with
Dewar to stress the need for secrecy. He didn't want the news
of his real identity spread around Elrigg. However, such a
hurried exit was impossible with a second helping of pudding
uneaten on his plate.

Sergeant Yarrow's greeting was friendly and politely interested as he enquired about the progress of Faro's
investigations. As Mrs Dewar made a great deal of fuss over
him, he seemed to enjoy her attentions.

Faro mentioned that he had been to the kirkyard and
Yarrow said: 'If you're interested in the history of Elrigg and the
cattle, I have a book upstairs. You can borrow it if you like. It
won't take you long to read.'

'What about your food, Sergeant?' Mrs Dewar sounded
alarmed.

Yarrow smiled at her. 'That can wait a wee while, Mrs
Dewar. I had a pint of ale at the inn so I won't starve.'

'You should be careful. Drinking isn't good for you. I hope you're taking the medicine that Dr Brand gave you.'

'Faithfully, Mrs Dewar.'

Faro looked at him quickly. His colour was bad, he looked
like a sick man. And he found himself remembering Imogen
Crowe's gloomy pronouncement.

'The Sergeant has one of the best views over Elrigg. A lovely
room, it is,' said Mrs Dewar.

'Yes. My window looks directly towards the standing stones
and if I take out my telescope, I can watch the cattle grazing.
From a safe distance.'

'Why don't you show Mr Faro?'

When Yarrow frowned, Mrs Dewar said, 'No need to worry,
it's all neat and tidy, not like the way you left it.'

Yarrow's smile was a little long-suffering as he nodded to
Faro. 'Come along then.'

Faro followed him upstairs. The room with its bay window was very attractive, much lighter than the kitchen downstairs. He guessed that Yarrow strove to keep it as a man's domain
despite his landlady's feminine touches of lace and vases of
flowers.

Yarrow read his expression. They're very good to me. It's a relief to have a good working relationship with Dewar - makes
life much easier.' He sighed. 'Too easy really. I didn't mean to
stay with them year after year. Mrs Dewar spoils me, as you've
probably observed.'

Faro was looking at the mantelpiece, dominated by three
silver framed photographs. A wedding - a younger, handsome Yarrow in Metropolitan Police uniform with his pretty bride; a second photograph of the couple staring down at a baby and a
third of Mrs Yarrow with a handsome curly-haired infant on
her knee, smiling into the camera.

'What a beautiful child. Yours?' said Faro.

'Yes. But no more, alas.' Yarrow turned from the glass—
fronted bookcase, his face expressionless. 'This is the book. No
hurry, just leave it at the inn for me when you go -'

'Your food's getting cold, Sergeant!'

At Mrs Dewar's call upstairs, Faro smiled. 'I'll be on my
way.' And he hurried downstairs through the kitchen, thanking
Mrs Dewar for her kindness while she urged him to drop in any
time.

'You'll be most welcome to share our little meal with us.'

He was not sorry to have missed eating at the Elrigg Arms in what would have been solitary splendour. A few farmers with
their dogs occupied the bar and Bowden stopped him on his
way up to his room. 'You've missed your visitor, sir.' At Faro's
puzzled expression Bowden laughed. 'Aye, Jack Duffy. Called in
to see you on the off-chance.'

'What did he want?'

'Wouldn't say. Just that he wanted a word with you. In a
right old state he was, said it was urgent and where were you,
and so forth. I told him I wasn't your keeper -'

'Did he leave a note?'

'A note, sir. Duffy can't write. There's nothing wrong with
his sums though. He can certainly add up.' Bowden grinned. 'It
was something important he wanted to get off his chest, that's
for sure.' Bowden gave Faro a significant wink. 'And knowing
Duffy, like I told you, I'd take any bet you like that it has to do
with money.'

'Did he say when he'd be back?'

'Told me to tell you he'd be in at six again tomorrow
evening. I was to tell you to be here because he had vital
information to give you.'

Faro felt exasperated at having missed the poacher a second
time. Was it no more than a ruse to extract money from a
stranger by offering him some stolen booty, or did he know
something vital about Sir Archie's death that he was willing to
sell to the insurance mannie?

Later that afternoon, Faro set off for the Castle. On his way
through the village, his conscience prompted him that he should
send a postcard to his daughters in Orkney and write a long
overdue letter to his mother.

Opposite the one church which catered for all Elrigg's
spiritual needs was the one shop which catered for all their material ones, from food to farming implements.

Purchases in hand, Faro waited for some time behind a
customer buying boiled sweets from a large selection of glass jars. Her choice involved a great deal of indecision.

Turning to him, she smiled apologetically and he recognised the elderly schoolteacher, whom the shopkeeper addressed very
civilly as Miss Halliday.

'My apologies, sir, these are rewards for good conduct and
good marks for my children. Yes, that will do nicely, thank you.' As she awaited the weighing out and summing up of
pennies, she continued: 'Are you enjoying your visit? I observed
you outside the school railings and deduced that, as you were not a parent and therefore known to me personally, you must
be a visitor.'

'I am indeed,' Faro smiled inwardly. What splendid
detectives these local people would have made. His strict rules
of observation and deduction might well have been invented by
them.

The teacher obviously expected some further enlightenment
and Faro found it difficult to give the kind of response that the
woman's shrewd and eager expression demanded. He still wore
his recently acquired persona like an ill-fitting suit of clothes,
about which he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and
self-conscious. A poor actor, he was certain that everyone in Elrigg had seen through his disguise and knew it for a lie.

'If you are staying for a while, perhaps you would care to
come to our charity concert, the day after the Archery Contest?
The children are performing well-known scenes from
Shakespeare's plays and I can guarantee an evening of lively
entertainment...'