Dangerous Pursuits (A Rose McQuinn Mystery) Read online

  Jack stared at me and laughed. 'You surely don't really think he murdered his wife? Rose, partners go missing every day - a violent row and they take off. Mostly like Mrs Winton they are back within the week. Husbands and wives don't go round murdering each other unless there is a very good reason - like money.'

  He paused. 'So you thought it might be Nora Marks you - thought - you found in the old chapel?'

  'It still might be,' I said obstinately.

  'Not unless Desmond Marks is a superb actor. Remember, he said he didn't recognize her, looked ready to faint away.'

  'You've said the words, Jack - a superb actor. He might just get away with it.'

  'Wait a minute, Rose. Where's the body?'

  'I suspect he has found a place somewhere safe and secure where no one is likely ever to find her. You've told me yourself, there are plenty of deep fissures and caves miles long on Arthur's Seat.'

  'True enough, they go right into the very core of what was left over from its days as an active volcano.'

  He shrugged. 'But I'm not prepared to go into all that St Anthony's Chapel business again. Rose. And you might as well know, on your favourite subject, that the woman who was washed up at Granton definitely has been identified.'

  'Who is she?'

  'We heard from Fife that a woman had been out walking with her little dog. He'd rushed into the sea, got into difficulties. She panicked, went after him, couldn't swim and drowned. Her father has been into the mortuary and recognized her. A sad business, a middle-aged woman who took care of an elderly relative and died first.'

  He smiled at me. 'No more cases to solve, Rose?'

  I still wasn't convinced about Desmond Marks, so I said, 'There will be, given time.'

  'And if not, you've found a pleasant occupation - and a very well-paid one - for a month or two at the Carthews'. How did the lesson go?'

  I told him about Tessa and the meeting with Lady Carthew and how I was enjoying it all.

  'You liked her, didn't you?' said Jack. 'That was a lucky break.'

  'And all thanks to Nancy.'

  But as I spoke, at the back of my mind there was an uneasy shadow, something I had seen, a picture I couldn't quite put together. It was like a jigsaw and I had been interrupted at a vital link.

  Was it something to do with Desmond Marks that plagued me?

  If only I could remember what it was...

  Before it was too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I rode out to Leith that morning to see Rory. As the nurse at the reception desk was busy with a woman holding a screaming infant, I made my way unhindered to the ward.

  Rory was asleep and he still looked white and frail, a stranger without all the hair that had once concealed his features.

  As I was about to leave, his eyes flickered open.

  I took his bandaged hand. 'Are you feeling better?'

  'Dinna - like - this - place. No' for likes o' me.'

  He looked towards the white ceiling and then his eyes closed again as if the effort of speaking had exhausted him.

  I stayed for a few minutes hoping that he might talk to me but he seemed to have drifted away, breathing heavily.

  A nurse I hadn't seen before bustled in and wished me good day.

  When I asked how Rory was, she looked anxiously towards the bed and said, 'We must remember he's an old man and he's had a terrible shock, although his burns were minor and they are making satisfactory progress.'

  Then she smiled. 'But we aren't giving up hope that he will make a complete recovery,' and she ushered me towards the door. 'Try not to worry, my dear, these things take time. Your father is in good hands.'

  I didn't bother to explain that he wasn't my father but asked, 'Has he had any other visitors?'

  She nodded. 'A young man has been in to see him - twice, I think.'

  When I asked his name, she frowned. 'I just saw him as I was doing my rounds. I presumed he was a relative, they'll be able to tell you at the desk downstairs.'

  Following her instructions, I asked the nurse at reception about Rory's visitor.

  'There's a book there,' she pointed to the desk, 'for visitors who are supposed to sign their names, who they are visiting, the time and so forth.'

  Obviously the hospital reception was not run on the most efficient lines for when I looked through the last two days there was no entry for Rory.

  I pointed this out and she said defensively, 'Well, they are supposed to sign in and out but we don't make a strict rule. But Mr Rory definitely had a visitor. A young man, a couple of times - always in a great rush.'

  'Can you describe him?'

  She looked puzzled by the question but said, 'Yes, I remember him well. He was tall and slim, fair hair, quite good-looking and very polite.' She smiled at the memory, obviously impressed by that brief meeting.

  I rode back to the Tower excited by my latest discovery.

  When Jack arrived I told him that I had been to see Rory and about the young man who had visited him.

  'Don't you see, this must be the same one I thought was a doctor,' I added triumphantly. 'Remember I told you how he bolted through the staff door when I spoke to him.'

  'Why on earth should he do that?' he laughed. 'And you only wearing one of your two heads after all.'

  I ignored that. Jack inclines towards facetious humour on occasions. I presume it is the stress of his work.

  I said severely, 'He obviously didn't want to be seen. However, since he's been in twice to see Rory, there must be some connection. He didn't leave his name at the desk which is a pity. I'd like to meet him.'

  'Did this nurse describe him?' Jack asked curiously.

  'Oh yes, tall, slim, fair, good-looking, she said. Jack, he's got to be Rory's estranged son - don't you see? If only we knew how to contact him.'

  Jack smiled. 'Well, I can help you there. I know exactly where the fellow is at this precise moment.'

  'You do!'

  'Yes, Rose. Come with me.' Instead of hurrying to the door, he pushed me in front of the big mirror over the fireplace.

  'Tall and slim. We'll leave the good-looking out of it.' And pointing at our reflections he smiled. 'There you are, Rose. That's Rory's visitor.'

  'You, Jack!'

  'Yes, I've been in Leith on a case and looked in a couple of times. As the nurse said I was in a great rush, hadn't time for signing visitors' books and so forth.'

  I could hardly suppress my disappointment when he asked, 'How did you think he was, did you see an improvement?'

  'Not a great deal.'

  'Nor did I.' He sighed. 'But I had an official reason for my visits. I was hoping he might have recovered sufficiently to tell us something about that fire,' he added grimly. 'But that doesn't seem likely at the moment, Rose. We'll just have to be patient.'

  'That's what I was told by the nurse. From the only words he muttered, I gathered he hates being in hospital.'

  Jack sighed. 'And that's something else we have to deal with. We must make some future plans for him. He can't go back to living in a ditch again.'

  'I agree. That's finished with for ever. Didn't you tell me that the hospital is run by the Church Council?' I added.

  'Yes, I'm hoping they'll find a place for him somewhere.'

  'If he'll accept. How do you think he'll take to living under a roof after half a lifetime in the open?'

  And there we had to leave it. On to a cheerier subject Jack wanted to know all about my painting lessons with Tessa. Pleased to hear they were going well, he took my hand. 'You're doing well. Rose. Are you happy with this new arrangement?'

  I shrugged. 'For the present, yes.'

  'You've finally given up on that other business?' I knew exactly what business he meant.

  In the face of no body ever being found, I had to accept that I had made a grievous error of judgement. The woman I had seen at St Anthony's Chapel, as Jack maintained right from the start, had merely fainted, perhaps fallen, been momentarily stunned, recove
red and walked away.

  I could accept that, but the bogus constable was another matter.

  And then Jack produced a shocking suggestion which he put to me with a certain male reluctance, as if this wasn't quite the ticket to discuss with a lady. I guessed from my days of rougher living in Arizona that there were matters that even the toughest and crudest of men talked freely about to each other, regarded as indecent for even a saloon girl's ears. Strictly male territory, from which wives and sweethearts must be protected. And I knew I was being privileged to enter that forbidden world when Jack said that he suspected the two had maybe been playing some erotic game.

  'A game - like charades?' I said.

  'Sort of.' He looked uncomfortable. 'Some couples find it very stimulating to their love-making if they - er, well, dress up.'

  Without going into details. Jack said these activities were quite harmless.

  Harmless, I thought, not unaware of rumours concerning gentlemen's clubs in Edinburgh to cater for the more grotesque tastes among the wealthy. For those who could afford them - children, boys... My mind shuddered away from further imaginings on which, I suspected, the police might be well paid to turn a discreetly blind eye.

  'Let's suppose,' Jack was saying, 'that this particular couple found making love in the open more exciting, dangerous even. And from a practical angle, if they were both married to other partners, out of doors was the only safe place where they were unlikely to be discovered...'

  Surely they could have found somewhere a little more comfortable than a ruined chapel on a cold night in late October, was my contribution.

  'A hotel bedroom, perhaps. Is that what you're thinking?' Jack shook his head. 'Dangerous places for illicit lovers. Walls have ears and waiters have eyes. There's another problem - I can tell you of cases where the only time men can - perform - is with the thought of the irate husband walking in the door at any moment. Anyway, back to our illicit lovers.'

  His eyes narrowed as he said, 'Let's suppose the woman's fantasy was being made love to by a policeman in uniform-'

  He stopped and grinned at me. 'And that is by no means far-fetched, I can tell you. Lots of lonely women fancy men in uniform. Ask any handsome young, or even not so young, bobby on the beat. Suppose these two had been drinking, had over-indulged, perhaps the woman had taken some stimulants. She lost consciousness and at that moment, a nosy woman arrived with an inquisitive dog.'

  Pausing, Jack regarded me thoughtfully. 'You thought your bogus PC Smith was McHully for a moment, didn't you - before he was killed that day at Leith?'

  The memory was still painful. 'I only got a glimpse, but yes, I felt that we'd met before.'

  'If you are right, then McHully, who had a wife and two bairns in Leith, was a bit of a womanizer-'

  'According to Nancy via Mrs Laing he was carrying on with Lady Carthew's maid and she had gone away with him.'

  Jack considered that for a moment. 'We could take that a step further. Perhaps he also had discovered a lucrative sideline helping out rich Edinburgh ladies with their fantasies.'

  I was doubtful about that, remembering the neat but shabby clothes. 'She wasn't dressed like a rich woman.'

  'Well, she wouldn't be, would she. If she didn't want to be recognized, she'd want to look as anonymous as possible and to be practical, wear something suitable for the heather on Arthur's Seat. Her maid's clothes would be perfect for the occasion.'

  He frowned. 'You know, I think we're getting somewhere with this, solving your mystery. Let's think back, you met the constable on the road, remember. He had gone for the carriage-'

  'What about the driver, the man he called Charlie?'

  He shrugged. 'They'd hired it and invented Charlie.'

  'As a matter of fact I looked in at the Pleasance hiring establishment and I was informed by Mr Micklan that he did not have a driver called Charlie in his employ.'

  Jack looked surprised. 'Well, well, you have been busy. What led you down that particular road?'

  'When I noticed they did vehicle repairs. And I was concerned about my buckled wheel.'

  'The one I mended,' Jack said heavily. When I muttered that it felt rather insecure, he said acidly, 'Thanks for your confidence. I thought I had done rather well. And what did you find out?'

  'Nothing useful. However, I met Mr Micklan coming out of the stables at Carthew House.'

  'A guarantee of good workmanship and reliability. The General would only deal with the best. Now where were we?'

  'The bogus PC Smith,' I reminded him. 'And the uncomfortable dalliance of illicit lovers.'

  He looked thoughtful. 'Well, supposing our constable was merely bringing the cab close to the chapel. They wouldn't have wanted it parked nearby in case it attracted the curious and for the same reason, he didn't want to have to carry his lady friend fifty yards along the road.'

  I could see that would be difficult to explain as I remembered something. 'Jack, wait a minute - what you just said about stimulants, being drunk. When I bent over her, I thought it was some sort of perfume she was wearing, a distinctive smell.'

  'Go on.'

  'Now I know exactly what it was,' I said triumphantly. 'Because I just encountered it again very recently. The same faint smell was in the hospital corridor when I visited Rory.'

  Jack whistled 'Chloroform. They could have been experimenting with chloroform. That's very interesting, Rose. And there was no way the man could explain to a nice respectable Edinburgh young woman what you had interrupted. So he went on with the part - to get rid of you as quickly as possible.'

  I remembered how nervous he had been, but it seemed too fantastic and dangerous. When I shook my head, Jack said, 'I know, Rose, but I assure you people like this exist in your respectable Edinburgh. Nice quiet well-behaved citizens who never put a foot wrong in their business and family lives by day and then - at night the whole scene changes.'

  'Like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.'

  'Exactly. Our Mr Stevenson knew a thing or two about this city he lived in. His student carousings down Leith Walk must have revealed goings-on that even he dare only hint at in print. You have to be a policeman to know about that other Edinburgh. Doctors know too, your stepbrother Vince must have had to deal discreetly with cases of venereal diseases among rich patients as well as child prostitution.

  'Your father was aware of it too. Rose, but would have kept the knowledge of such corruption well away from his little daughters.'

  Jack's theory was still difficult to believe, but somewhere there could be the grain of truth in it.

  And I knew he was being kind, giving me the benefit of the doubt as it were. For the only other explanation, which he must have toyed with however reluctantly, was that I had dreamed up the whole thing and was slightly mad. That would not have suited his purpose - or his love for me - at all.

  So fantastic it might be, but I had to accept the perversions of the rich in the society I lived in.

  I had to face it. I thought I had witnessed a murder. But in the absence of a body, or an identity for the bogus constable. Jack's explanation was remotely possible and one I might as well accept.

  Accept, too, that this was one mystery I never was going to solve.

  Or so I thought...

  But once again events proved me wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I carefully brought my logbook up to date that night with new revelations about the scene I had encountered at St Anthony's Chapel and how it might be interpreted, remembering that faint perfume which could be chloroform.

  As far as I was concerned, the woman could still be dead, not from strangulation but from an overdose of a dangerous drug used for operations and in recent years more widely in alleviating the pains of childbirth. Her Majesty had been quick to seize upon its advantages.

  Next morning there was a letter from my sister Emily in Orkney. I opened it with some fluttering of the heart. So often I had been hoping for an invitation that never came. But this time my expectations were
to be fulfilled.

  Emmy suggested that it might be possible for me to visit them when the weather turned warmer, in the spring perhaps. I reread this affectionate letter, more encouraging than any I had received so far since my return to Edinburgh.

  When I mentioned it to Jack that evening, he was very enthusiastic. 'What a splendid idea. Rose. We could go together for a holiday. I've always wanted to see Orkney...'

  I listened, careful to conceal my expression since I was not at all sure about this proposal, recognizing the need for caution and feeling the same diffidence that suggestions of visiting his parents aroused in me. Our present arrangement suited me very well and until I had - if ever - decided to be persuaded into marrying Jack, I wanted as few close kin and embarrassing explanations involved as possible.

  But it was with a more cheerful heart, bearing the good news that my sister Emmy had not forgotten me entirely, that I returned to my duties at Carthew House.

  As I approached the front door, I often glimpsed Lady Carthew sitting at her upstairs window, and later during Tessa's painting lesson when the weather was mild, we saw the General and his lady enjoying an afternoon stroll in the gardens.

  'There's Aunt Harriet!' Tessa would shout, tapping on the window and waving wildly.

  She received a cordial smile, a wave by way of greeting, but I was disappointed that Lady Carthew did not come to the library to watch Tessa's progress as she had promised and that the deeper acquaintance I had hoped for seemed unlikely to materialize.

  The Carthews had few visitors. One day I met the family doctor Hamilton Pierce taking his departure. His stout frame, white hair, distinguished countenance and soothing manner must have inspired confidence in his most fainthearted patients as well as making a considerable dent in their bank balances.

  Introducing us, the General said, 'Torquil has a sore throat, but there is no cause for alarm.'

  Dr Pierce smiled and picked up his bag. 'None at all. But we will keep an eye on Tessa for a day or two.'

  'And of course on Harriet,' said the General.

  The doctor nodded, rather sadly I thought.

  'Naturally we must keep Lady Carthew free from any possible infections.'