Enter Second Murderer (14 page)

"The post-mortem on Lily Goldie revealed no such evidence that could besmirch her character."

"Then I am greatly relieved."

"You believe, then, that Hymes was responsible for her murder?"

"I see no reason to doubt it. Perhaps she was desperate."

"Desperate?"

"Yes. She believed she had to find a father for the child. Anyone who would give it a name and save her reputation."

"But Hymes was married already."

"I don't suppose Lily knew that."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Denbridge, but what you are suggesting simply does not make sense."

"It makes good sense to me, or to any woman who finds herself in such a situation. You have my assurances on that, Inspector," she added sharply.

"Surely you would think it strange that such a—lady—as Miss Goldie appeared to be, should have formed an attachment with Hymes in the first place?"

"Not if she was desperate to find a husband in her unhappy circumstances. Besides, perhaps he had some fearful fascination for her, even mesmeric," she added, eyes gleaming. "This, I understand, can happen all too often when young ladies emerge from sheltered lives and allow themselves to be preyed upon by creatures from the lower classes."

Clara's conclusions certainly threw some unusual light on Lily Goldie's activities, and on the ways of womankind in general, thought Faro cynically. As a detective used to dealing in facts, he found it almost impossible to give credence to such an imaginative explanation.

As he was leaving, Faro glanced over the notes he had written. "When Miss Goldie expressed her fears of being pregnant, did I understand that she said to you: 'His parents—or someone—will have to pay dearly for this little indiscretion'?"

"Yes, indeed. Those were her words. I am positive."

"I merely put it to you that you might have been mistaken, because Ferris was an orphan."

Clara laughed. "Now, Inspector, it is you who are mistaken. Tim had a young brother at St. Leonard's."

"You are sure of that?"

"Of course I am. I met him with Lily on two occasions. He's about fourteen or fifteen. Rather slightly built, but a handsome boy, with fine features, from what I could see, as he did not have the courtesy to raise his cap to me. Of course, I understood, it's an awkward age and he was obviously very shy and ill-at-ease."

"What was his name?"

Clara spread her hands wide. "Inspector, I have the most appalling memory for names—I even forget those of people to whom I'm introduced, which can be most embarrassing. And in this case, I doubt whether I would have considered Tim's young brother important enough to have it stick in my mind."

"One more question, Mrs. Denbridge, if you will oblige. Did these meetings take place before or after Mr. Ferris died?"

Clara bit her lip. "About the same time. Yes, I remember thinking it very appropriate, and hoping that Lily was a comfort to Tim's brother in his sad loss."

As he said his farewells, Faro added, "If the boy's name should come to mind—or any other detail, however trivial it seems to you, I would be most obliged if you would drop me a note. Here is my private address."

He rejoined the cab, whose driver was enjoying a quiet snooze in the sunshine. On the way back to Edinburgh, Faro decided that the meeting with Clara Burnleigh now presented him with what he most dreaded: a visit to St. Leonard's. First of all, he must explain his reasons to the Headmaster, who might not be kindly disposed towards having a detective inspector interview Ferris Minor.

Faro sighed. For a dead man, Timothy Ferris was turning out to be persistently enigmatic. The only remaining hope was that his young brother would shed some light on a particularly baffling case. And one which he now regretted having reopened.

If only he could believe in Clara Burnleigh's reasoning, absurd as it was, and accept that Lily Goldie had given Hymes good reason for murdering her.

If only, to quote Superintendent McIntosh, he had "let hanged murderers lie".

Chapter 11

At the Central Office, there were no new cases for him, merely a routine check on Wormwoodhall to establish the whereabouts of the notorious Black Tam, whose re-entry into society had produced a spate of robberies with violence.

As St. Leonard's School lay on the respectable area bordering Causewayside, he might be able to catch Black Tam and interview Ferris Minor in one visit. It was an appealing thought and, closing his door, Faro put up his feet on his desk, sent out for a pint of porter and, for the first time in months, a mutton pie. Then he sat down and, sharpening a pen, drew up a sheet of paper and compiled a complete report from his sketchy notes of his meeting with Clara Burnleigh.

He wondered what Vince would make of his findings as he set off for St. Leonard's, a modern building despite its aggressively medieval castellations. The long drive, not yet decently shaded by trees, seemed oddly naked, the house deserted.

"There's no one here," said a gardener. "The whole school is away on a founder's day picnic to Peebles."

Faro thanked him for the information and left. Heading for Causeway side led him past the street where Alison Aird lodged with the other female members of Trelawney's Thespians.

Why not call upon her? His excuse was feeble but irrestible, an apology for having missed her performance in
Macbeth
.

Mrs. Penny, the landlady, eyed him sourly. "Mrs. Aird is not at home." And without any further question, she added, "I do not know where she has gone, and I do not know when she will return. And I am unable to take messages of any kind for my boarders. That is my rule. You may leave a note on the hall table, if you so desire."

Faro regarded the formidable lady with awe. Large, florid, her face painted, and doubtless wearing a discarded theatrical wig of a suspiciously youthful gold. As she spoke, Mrs. Penny's appearance suggested the figurehead of a ship come to grotesque life.

And one well able to repel boarders, thought Faro, making his apologies and his way to the gate, under her keen eye. A lady who would take no nonsense from anyone.

He continued on his way into the warrens of Causewayside, with a certain caution and reluctance. He was already known to many of the inhabitants, for he had regularly appeared to run famous criminals to earth in this notorious area.

The cobbled street was quite crowded, but as he walked down, trying to maintain an air of jaunty indifference, most of the inhabitants melted into the shadows of the grimy tenements and dingy hovels. By the time the Quaker Mission came into view, the street was almost deserted and he guessed that word of his coming had already spread like wildfire among the thieves and vagabonds whose presence had sorely tried him in the past.

The mission was situated in a secluded court with a tiny garden. He had never set foot in it before, but Alison Aird's association with the Quakers made him curious, and as he looked inside he thought he saw her sitting under a tree, and reading from a book to an audience of small children.

Could it be? She was against the sun, but yes, it was indeed Alison Aird. He stood in the shadows, for a moment enjoying the contrast between her gentle beauty, her muslin frock and neat hair, and the grimy poverty of the ragged urchins, bare-limbed, filthy, verminous. The sight struck his heart with new tenderness and an overwhelming desire to protect her.

She was unaware of his presence until his shadow came between her and the sun. The children's reaction was immediate—"Scarper. Peelers."—and they melted into the distance before she had finished reading the sentence.

"Children? Come back here—what on earth. . . ?"

Turning, she saw his tall figure approaching across the grass. She stood up and held out her hand with a welcoming smile—but no more.

"Good day, Inspector." She frowned. "This is very unexpected."

"Not at all, Mrs. Aird.This is a neighbourhood which I unfortunately know very well indeed."

"What brings you here? You have not come to arrest me, I hope?"

Faro laughed at her bewilderment. "I have come in search of a gentleman known as Black Tam. But I suspect that news of my approach has already reached him."

"Is he a dangerous character?"

"Very."

"Then are you wise to come alone?"

Her anxious tone suggested concern. Did she really care? he thought. "What of yourself, Mrs. Aird? I see you have not heeded my advice."

"Will you be reassured if I tell you that I come armed?"

"Armed?"

"Yes, Inspector, armed." Despite her solemn tones, he had an uneasy suspicion that she was laughing at him. From her reticule she withdrew a tiny dagger from a jewelled sheath. "I go nowhere without it." Handing it to Faro, she continued, "It was a present from an Indian holy man long ago who said that one day it would protect me from a terrible death."

Returning it, Faro did not add that it would be useless against a strong assailant. "A pretty toy, Mrs. Aird, but you would be better not to tempt fate and stay away from this area. As I have told you, it is no place for a gentlewoman."

Mrs. Aird laughed. "As I told
you
before, I am no gentlewoman, merely an actress." She held up the book of
Tales from Shakespeare
. "I was asked by the Quakers if I would read to the poor children, in the hope that it might provide the right inspiration for them to make a better life for themselves."

Faro refrained from commenting that it would take a great deal more than that to wean them away from the sordid existence that was bred in them, from first cry to dying breath.

"You look doubtful, Inspector. There is no danger here. The poor are not all wicked. Sometimes all they have to give is their friendship."

He made a grimace. "Not to policemen. And I would advise you, beware the face of innocence. It is most often a mask, and you have chosen to work in the midst of a strong criminal element."

With a sigh, she closed her book, gathered up her bonnet and basket. "Since you have scared away my little friends, I might as well return to my lodging. Would you care to accompany me? Mrs. Penny will give us tea-her scones are delicious. Where has everyone disappeared to?" she whispered as they walked down the almost deserted street. "I have never seen the place so empty. What on earth did you do to them. Inspector?"

"Nothing, I assure you. But they know my reputation. I rarely come to Wormwoodhall and leave again empty-handed."

"Empty-handed? How so?"

"Yes. I usually take some member of their fraternity away with the cuffs about his wrists."

"Good gracious, Inspector. You alarm me. You seemed such a friendly man, calm, full of compassion. I could not imagine you putting the fear of death into anyone. And now I am seeing you in a very different role. I feel quite cheated," she added, with a mocking smile.

"We all have our obverse side, Mrs. Aird." And he thought of the grieving woman in grey he had first seen in Greyfriars Kirkyard and of his instant infatuation. While he wondered how he might with tact raise the subject of that first meeting, his senses were strangely aroused by her forearms under the parasol she carried. So soft and gently freckled, defenceless and utterly lovely, he longed to seize her in his arms.

Would her reaction be outrage, at being kissed in the public street, he thought, following her along the path to her lodgings where a transformed Mrs. Penny greeted their arrival together.

Alison Aird was clearly a favourite and when she went upstairs to her bedroom to attend to her toilette, Mrs. Penny, with the undisguised delight of a match-maker, now fawned upon the Inspector.

Full of eye-fluttering apologies for her harshness in sending him away, she whispered, "So many admirers, and I have my instructions, directly from Mrs. Aird: not to admit anyone. Those are her very words. In all the time she has been under my roof, she has never once brought a gentleman back to partake of my tea and scones until this moment." She gave him an admiring glance. "But the moment I saw you, I should have realised that you were different. That you were someone special. I do most abjectly apologise for my behaviour towards you, sir, and trust that it will be overlooked."

Faro, feeling exceedingly flattered, readily agreed, whereupon Mrs. Penny was at great pains to inform him that Mrs. Aird was AGem.

"She is the perfect boarder, sir, there are none to match her for gentleness and consideration. It will be a devastation, sir, to me personally, a devastation to lose her."

"Who are you about to lose, Mrs. Penny?" asked Mrs. Aird, who had entered the room soft-footed having changed her sturdy outdoor shoes for slippers.

"Well, yourself, Mrs. Aird. I was just remarking to the Inspector that I have prayed you would meet some nice gentleman who would persuade you to leave all those actors, and that uncertain life you have on the stage."

Her bold look in Faro's direction was unmistakable, but Mrs. Aird did not blush or look embarrassed, she merely shrugged and said, "I fear not, Mrs. Penny. I have no great wish to marry again and I have passed the age where I am likely to appeal to some eligible man who will sweep me off my feet and wish to have me as his life partner."