Killing Cousins (An Inspector Faro Mystery No.4) Page 4

  Mary Faro's imminent ascent of the stairs with the tea tray was announced by a twitter of tea cups. Faro sprang to his feet and shouted over the banisters, 'I'll have it down there, Mother, if it's convenient.'

  'I'll come down later,' said Vince, leaning over his shoulder. 'Must change my boots. I'm afraid one of them is letting in water. Deuced uncomfortable,' he added, cutting short a reproachful homily from his stepgrandmother on the fatalities appertaining to wet feet.

  Patting the box containing the Marsh Test apparatus, Vince nodded to Faro and, putting a finger to his lips, disappeared into his bedroom.

  Mary Faro ushered Jeremy into the drawing-room. He exclaimed over magnificent proportions, handsome furniture, elegant mirrors and, dominating the room, two great bay windows which looked down over lawns to the south and west.

  Here was a room that begged the visitor to enjoy peace and tranquillity. Not only providing an opportunity to enjoy a whole day's warmth and sunshine when the capricious weather allowed, the windows also offered an uninterrupted view of the sea with its pattern of islands.

  Watching his mother set down the tea tray, he felt suddenly awed by his surroundings. He was, after all, merely the housekeeper's son. 'Are you sure? The kitchen would do excellently.'

  'Not at all, dear. You're to be a guest here. Dr Balfray says so.'

  'I must pay my condolences.'

  'You'll have plenty of time later, dear. The poor love is in his study. He's hardly ever left it, apart from attending the funeral. Terrible, terrible this is for him. I just don't know how he is going to get through this evening. All these tenants coming for the wake - and their bequests.'

  'Bequests?'

  'Yes, dear. It's the rule of the Balfrays, established by the right- and proper-minded grandfather. When the laird or his lady dies, every tenant who comes to the wake is entitled to receive one golden guinea.'

  'A very generous gesture, very commendable.'

  Mary Faro nodded. 'They're a grand family. The best there is. But tell me about you, lad. What brought you here?'

  Briefly touching on his last case which had left him standing on a quayside in the north of Scotland, Faro asked eagerly, 'Rose and Emily? How are they? Vince tells me they come over at the weekends.'

  'Indeed they do, dear. I'd have liked fine to keep them here with me but Aunty said she would take them when the new term started...'

  When he frowned, she added reproachfully, 'You surely haven't forgotten Aunty Griz who was so kind to you when you were a peedie bairn, after we lost your poor dear father... ?'

  'Of course, of course,' lied Faro. 'Aunty Griz.'

  'And she's so reliable. She loves them and they dote on her. I thought my place was with Mrs Balfray and Dr Francis, when they were relying on me and now that he's alone I can't leave the poor doctor in the lurch,' she added, her eyes welling with tears.

  'You did the right thing, Mother,' said Faro, patting her hand. 'A sad time for all of you. Vince tells me Mrs Balfray was greatly loved and that a lot of people helped to take care of her.'

  Mrs Faro sniffed. 'Hardly a great lot.' And, enumerating on her fingers, she continued, 'Beside myself there was Miss Balfray, who is just heart-broken too. Reverend Erlandson, our nice minister she's engaged to, is a great comfort to her and to us all. And, of course, our Inga, as always the first to offer help to anyone.'

  'I met her on the way in.'

  'You did?' Mary Faro looked pleased. 'Well, well. She's such a sweet girl. So sad that she's never married. She'd have made a marvellous wife for someone.'

  Again in that quick sideways glance he thought he detected a hint of reproach. Did his mother still think that someone should have been himself?

  The years have been very good to her, I thought'

  'Indeed they have.' Mrs Faro beamed. 'She's a lovely girl, always was, and it goes all the way through, despite the nastiness of some folk here.'

  'How's that, Mother?'

  'Oh you know, Jeremy. Even when you were a lad there was all this talk about her being a selkie. And her doing nothing but good. Always ready with her herbs and the like and I've seen her with my own eyes breathe life into a dying bairn. But some folk can never be satisfied. Just be a peedie bit different...'

  She shrugged, pausing to refill his cup. "There were rumours that she'd brought other sick people back to life. And you know what folk said? What kind of life was that if it cost them their immortal souls. They thought that was what she did, stole their souls for the devil.'

  'What brought her to Balfray?'

  'She came years back. When Saul Hoy's mother died. Saul's the smithy and they were distantly related to your poor dear father by marriage. Anyway, Saul was left with this simple brother, they call him Troller Jack, and Inga came to look after him when he was ill. The laddie just doted on her, she could do anything with him and she just stayed on.'

  She gave him a hesitant look. There was talk about her marrying Saul. But it never came to anything. There's plenty that snigger about that, too, and would like to say that she's a bad woman.'

  Faro smiled. His mother would have been the first to make comments on anyone but Inga living in the same house as a bachelor, both of them of marriageable years. 'You know how island folk gossip. What can you expect them to say?'

  'I would say that's her own business,' snorted Mary Faro. 'But I'll tell you because she's kin. She told me once that she might have married him but she learned from her mother before she died that he was her half-brother. Isn't that awful?'

  Faro smiled. It was not an unknown occurrence.

  'Wasn't that a terrible thing to find out?' asked Mary Faro in shocked tones.

  'Better found out before than after marriage.'

  Mrs Faro hesitated a moment then went on. 'If there have been any sweethearts in her life, past or present, then this is Inga's biggest secret of all. Luckily her reputation keeps the men hereabouts at bay. You can see them eyeing her, especially when it's harvest time and they've had a few drams, but none of them would harm her. In fact, they're too scared to lay a hand on her.' Mary Faro chuckled. They know all about what crossing a witch can do to a man, their wives have made sure of that.'

  And suddenly confidential, she leaned forward and touched his arm. 'You know what I think? I think she's still sweet on you. You were her one and only.'

  'Childhood sweethearts, Mother. Few of them ever walk down the aisle together.'

  'You needn't laugh. Maybe it's like that in Edinburgh with all those temptations, all those wicked ways,' she said crossly, 'but here in Orkney people are different. Couples meet when they're bairns, often still at the school, and grow up to get married. They love only once, like your poor dear father and me—'

  She was interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the door.

  The newcomer was Dr Francis Balfray. His ashen countenance, his unshaven unkempt appearance, told a poignant tale of sorrow before which Faro's condolences were lost.

  Indeed, Faro doubted whether he heard them at all, they seemed such a totally inadequate drop in that ocean of despair.

  Had he eaten today? Would he like a nice cup of tea?

  Faro listened in amazement to his mother's bright stab at normality, her brave smiles in Balfray's direction. She was doing her best, bless her heart, but what was food and drink to a man at such a time as this?

  Vince arrived and Faro observed the obvious sympathy between the two young men which relieved the awkward situation. His stepson seemed to have hit the exact chord of what was right in these doleful circumstances.

  Watching them, he was glad to see that their postgraduate meeting had turned a polite acquaintance into what looked like the beginnings of close friendship. If tact and compromise were at work, then Vince would make a splendid general practitioner in medicine.

  'I heard voices and thought I might find Captain Gibb and Norma. Arrangements, you know... for ... for this evening.'

  Mary Faro said she hadn't seen them, but that the Captai
n was probably in the library with his books.

  Francis nodded absently and at the door again remembered the courtesy due to the unexpected guest.

  His smile was forced, his hand unsteady. 'Do make yourself at home, Mr Faro. You are most welcome to Balfray.' And, having fulfilled the ancient obligations of a laird to the stranger under his roof, he gratefully took his departure.

  Vince drank his tea, ate his buttered scones with an alarming speed that would have crippled Faro with a digestive upset for several days. All the while he managed to include an affectionate repartee with his stepgrandmother who so obviously adored him. Then, declining further refreshment, he made his exit, his slight gesture indicating that Faro should follow him.

  Once in the bedroom, Faro said, 'Well?'

  'Not well at all, Stepfather. The test in both cases is positive. Come and look at this.'

  Faro inspected the simple apparatus set up on the desk. The ingenuous but amazingly sensitive device which recovered die arsenic was a metallic mirror on a piece of porcelain.

  Looking over his shoulder, Vince said, There are 3.20 grains of arsenic present.'

  Faro whistled. 'And two grains is a fatal dose, is it not?'

  'Correct. And we have enough here in both samples to cause Thora Balfray's death. She was murdered, Stepfather. There is no longer the least doubt about that.'

  Chapter Four

  Faro sat down on the bed. 'So you were right. I was hoping you'd be wrong, you know.'

  'So was I.'

  'There's no doubt whatsoever?'

  'None at all. Thora Balfray was poisoned.'

  'Where do we go from here?'

  'Suppose you tell me. You're the policeman.'

  Faro looked at him sharply.

  'I'm sorry, Stepfather, but at this moment I wish to God I'd never heard of the Marsh Test and that after I'd signed the death certificate I'd been able to persuade my conscience that Thora died of natural causes.'

  Beating his fists upon the bedpost in a furious gesture, he swung round to face his stepfather. 'Why the hell didn't I leave well alone? Answer me that if you can.'

  'Because it wasn't well, lad. Because someone murdered Thora Balfray and, if you hadn't done something about it, your conscience would have plagued you for the rest of your life. Besides, you owe it to Francis.'

  Vince laughed bitterly. 'Oh yes, and he is going to love me for that. His suffering has only just begun. Losing Thora was merely the beginning of the nightmare of what he will now have to endure.'

  'Listen,' said Faro sternly. 'I know exactly how you feel. Many's the time I've suspected, aye, known, that murder has been committed, and I've been so sorry for the innocent folks involved that I've been tempted, even wished, as you are wishing, that I'd never poked and probed into the whole sorry business.'

  Vince had taken to pacing the floor angrily, as if to thrust out the force of his stepfather's words.

  'Your first debt, lad, let me remind you, is not to Francis Balfray. It is to his wife, an unfortunate young woman, loved by all for her many virtues it seems, who was put to an agonising slow death by someone close to her. Someone I don't doubt that she loved and trusted. You know as well as I do that arsenic has always been the most popular and easiest way of getting rid of unwanted relatives. It began with the Caesars, so much in demand in Imperial Rome that food tasters were as numerous and as necessary as chefs.'

  'Very popular with the Borgias, too, I seem to remember, Stepfather. "Le poudre de succession", that's what the French call it'

  'And with good reason. You're being blinded by the closeness of these tragic events around you, Vince. But I beg you, cast all sentiment aside and think calmly and coldly about what really happened and why.'

  Vince gave him a horrified look. 'You mean that until we know the motive for Thora's death, some other member of the family might also be in danger. Is that it?'

  Leaning on the table, Faro continued, 'Precisely. We now have a murderer on the loose and having got away with it once, he - or she - might decide to strike again. I'm presuming that Francis stood to gain by his wife's death and so he must be watched very carefully.'

  Vince sat down suddenly. 'Come to think of it, he told me something, oh, just last week. He was riding back from the harbour along the cliff path after dark when someone leaped out waving a cloak or something. His horse was terrified and threw him, luckily on to the grassy slope. But they both had a lucky escape - another yard and they would have been over the cliff and into the sea. Very nearly a tragedy. Doesn't bear thinking about,' he added with a shudder and, springing to his feet, he looked down at his stepfather. 'Poor old Francis, I wish you could have seen him. He staggered in, all muddied and shaken. Got the fright of his life, although he passed it off as a practical joke.'

  'Some joke,' said Faro grimly.

  Vince looked at the mantelpiece clock. 'We'd better start dressing for dinner. Too late to summon the Procurator Fiscal, I suppose, even presuming we could get a boat to take us to Kirkwall.'

  'I doubt that would be a popular request with everyone preparing for the wake. Besides, he'd hardly welcome being summoned at this hour.'

  Vince's sigh sounded suspiciously relieved. 'If I'm for the chop I'm glad to delay the evil hour.'

  'Let's not think about that, lad. There were extenuating circumstances. After all, you're a young doctor...'

  'Please don't make excuses for me, Stepfather. I'm making enough for myself without your help. And whatever you say by consolation doesn't alter the fact that I compounded a felony. I'd like to get it over as soon as I can, so can we now talk about motives and opportunities?

  'She was an heiress in her own right, distaff side. Francis inherits her fortune and, as there is no direct heir in the event of his demise, Thora willed everything to Norma Balfray. Thora was the child of Sir Joseph's second marriage, so she could only inherit Balfray if she outlived her stepsister.'

  'Interesting,' said Faro thoughtfully.

  'Norma inherited a penniless Balfray, heavily in debt. As for Francis, he has no direct claim to it. He belongs to a cadet branch of the family - you can look at the family tree sometime if you're interested. They share the same great-great-grandfather.'

  'Sounds like everyone else in Orkney, when you go back that far.'

  Vince smiled. 'Francis has been a constant visitor since his childhood. Sir Joseph was very fond of him - the son he never had. When he put Francis through medical school it was implicitly understood that he set up practice as resident doctor in the castle, for the benefit of his tenants, and be referred to by the courtesy title of "laird". Sir Joseph had another reason. Francis and Norma had been childhood sweethearts and he approved of the match.

  'Sadly, it didn't work out like that at all and Francis married Thora instead, who insisted that Norma be made a generous allowance.'

  Faro gave him a cynical smile. 'Decent of her, in the circumstances. And, although Thora might be termed the goose with the golden eggs where Norma was concerned, let us not forget that fortunes are not the sole reason for murdering close kin.'

  'No one in the household would have harmed her, that's for sure. They all made their devotion to her perfectly clear. Ask Grandma, she'll tell you. Nothing much passes her by in the way of gossip.'

  Faro considered for a moment 'What about opportunity? Administering poison without giving a dose massive enough for immediate demise means constant access, for just a little at a time.'

  Vince laughed grimly. 'Opportunity certainly wasn't lacking. Grandma tells me that everyone in the household was trying to tempt her jaded appetite: egg nog, soup, tonics, home-made remedies,' he enumerated. 'And for those with less noble motives every country house and estate has access to arsenic in the form of rat poison.'

  'Who chiefly nursed her?'

  'Norma. She was with her almost constantly, except when she was relieved by Grandma—' there was the slightest hesitation '—or Inga.'

  'You mentioned jealousy. There was no enmity b
etween the stepsisters?'

  Vince shook his head. 'None that was apparent. To any observer they seemed devoted to each other.'

  'Despite the fact that Thora stole Francis? And that generous allowance might have been less charitably regarded by Norma as conscience money?'

  'Oh, that was forgotten, and, I imagine, forgiven long ago. Especially as Norma found happiness elsewhere. She is going to marry Reverend Erlandson, the family priest'

  'Priest? I thought you said he was a minister.'

  Vince laughed. 'Not of the Church of Scotland. The Balfrays are Episcopalians. In my opinion, the services are just one step removed from Roman Catholicism. Probably the Balfrays compromised on religion,' he added doubtfully. 'They've remained staunch Jacobites in our stronghold of Calvinism.'

  Faro smiled. 'My first thought when I arrived in Balfray was that if Bonnie Prince Charlie had returned to Scotland in 1845 and had included Orkney in his triumphal itinerary, he wouldn't have noticed a great deal of difference in the passing of over a hundred years.'

  He paused and added, 'I shouldn't have imagined there was much call for a resident churchman in a place the size of Balfray.'

  'There isn't, Erlandson has one or two other parishes that he serves. Mostly by boat if the weather and the tide are right,'

  'Interesting.'

  'He's very enlightened, you know. He and Norma are deeply enamoured of each other.' He smiled. 'You'll see. Much in love and don't care who knows it.'

  Faro laughed. 'Indeed. Then I shall look forward to meeting our resident chaplain and his lady love. What about kitchen staff?'

  'Norma is nominally in charge of housekeeper, maids and so forth. But even she retired gracefully when Grandma took over from the last housekeeper, the one who was drowned.'

  'Oh yes, the unfortunate Mrs Bliss.' Faro placed his fingertips together and studied them thoughtfully. 'And so, Vince, what are your present theories about who might have wanted rid of Mrs Balfray?'

  'Theories are easy, Stepfather.' Vince hesitated. 'I'd like you to meet the family and form some ideas of your own, then well talk about my theories.'