The Coffin Lane Murders Read online

  Two lovers were next, then two small children rushing forward to greet their grandfather. Then at last, as he was losing interest in watching passengers and wondering anxiously if Rose had missed the train, she emerged.

  Delighted to see him she threw her arms around his neck. 'This is a great honour, Pa,' she said, laughing. 'What have I done to deserve a personal escort in the middle of your working day?'

  Faro took her arm and pointed to where all the waiting carriages had swiftly been engaged. 'That's your answer. And the snow.'

  Again she laughed. 'I wouldn't dream of wasting my money - you know me, Pa. I love the walk down the Pleasance in any weather.'

  'Ro-se - over here.'

  And there was Olivia, with Vince's coachman negotiating his way through the station precinct.

  'What luck,' Olivia greeted them, as they dashed over and she opened the door. 'I had an appointment with the dressmaker and Vince remembered that you were arriving on the four o'clock train. So I decided that I'd meet you - just on the off chance. Such weather!'

  She smiled at Faro. 'Great minds think alike.'

  'They do indeed, my dear.' Suddenly stricken with remorse at all the work he had left on his desk at the Central Office Faro said, 'And now I can rely on you to see Rose safely home.'

  Rose looked from one to the other. 'What's all this about being seen safely home?'

  Olivia shrugged. 'There's been a - well, some women attacked in Coffin Lane.'

  Rose's eyes widened. 'How dreadful. Were they all right?'

  Avoiding a reply, Olivia said, 'Brent - we're holding up the traffic. Jump in, Rose dear, I'll tell you all about it.'

  Handing Rose into the carriage, Faro waved the two goodbye and set off back to the Central Office.

  The suburb of Newington had been horrified by the three deaths. It was not the sort of thing they expected in their pleasant villas, to be close to sudden violent death. Even if they were not personally concerned, such matters threw doubts upon the respectability and desirability of their properties and reflected disastrously upon their value.

  Faro sighed. There were a lot of ladies like Miss Errington in the Newington area who would feel that a mere servant's unhappy and violent end was horrifying, not so much in itself but because it might adversely affect their young daughters' chances of making successful and wealthy marriages.

  To such people, maintaining a well-established position in society was of vastly more consequence than the brutal murders of three women of no importance.

  Chapter 13

  Rose was looking forward to meeting Conan and Kate Pursley and intrigued by the idea of visiting Solomon's Tower.

  'Pa tells me that the Mad Bart is quite transformed and reformed too.'

  'Yes, my dear, and we are trying not to call him that any more,' said Vince. 'There's a party there on Christmas Eve. It's really for Jamie's benefit, so please try to remember that his name is Sir Hedley.'

  'Idiot,' said Rose, slapping her half-brother playfully. 'Of course I will. I do know my manners, which is more than I can say for some.' She paused, frowned. 'Christmas Eve? Oh yes, I should be back in time for that.' And turning to Faro she smiled. 'I'm just here for the weekend, Pa.'

  Trying to hide his disappointment he said, 'I thought you were to be home right until New Year.'

  'Did I not tell you? I'm to be bridesmaid for Sally's wedding - she's a teacher at the school.'

  Aware of her father's dismal expression, not concealed quite quickly enough, she patted his hand. 'But I'll be back again in time for the festivities. Promise.'

  They were interrupted by the front doorbell. Conan and Kate were ushered into the drawing room. Introductions followed.

  When Rose took Conan's hand, she smiled and then frowned. 'We've met before, haven't we?'

  Conan smiled. 'I don't think so.'

  Rose looked across at her brother who was showing Kate a book he had recently acquired on Edinburgh's history.

  For a moment she looked bewildered, then she smiled. 'It must be because I've heard so much about you.'

  Conan raised an eyebrow. 'All of it good, I hope.'

  'Indeed, yes,' Rose laughed.

  The doorbell rang shrilly through the house.

  Faro opened the drawing-room door and saw Mrs Brook speaking to Dr Spens, informing him politely that she would see if Inspector Faro was at home.

  More trouble, sighed Faro as he called down, 'I'm here, Angus. Come away in.'

  Angus ran lightly upstairs. 'I hope I'm not intruding. I thought I might find Dr Pursley.'

  'We are about to have dinner. Perhaps you would care to join us if you haven't a more important engagement this evening?' he added, aware that neither Vince nor Conan would welcome this invitation that politeness demanded.

  'I would be delighted, sir.'

  Returning from advising Mrs Brook to set another place, he observed Angus bowing over Rose's hand, obvious admiration glowing from his boyish face.

  Mrs Brook announced dinner and Faro's attitude was a mixture of annoyance and amusement as they trooped into the dining room and the young doctor moved swiftly into the chair next to Rose.

  There he proceeded to monopolise her attention with talk about himself, his background, his father, his ambitions. Angling any conversation which threatened to remove Rose's attention away from himself, while keeping a firm and steady eye on the food set in front of him, whatever important information the visit had occasioned was apparently forgotten.

  Mrs Brook had excelled herself. As ever when Rose was in residence, the meal was of mammoth proportions, including all the special dishes that her favourite lass had enjoyed in childhood days.

  When at last the empty plates and dishes were removed and the diners returned to the drawing-room, all having expressed the certainty that they could not eat another bite and were incapable of rising from the table, Rose recovered enough to be persuaded to sing while Olivia played the piano, with Angus, not to be outdone, accompanying Rose's ballads.

  The applause was genuine. Whatever his failings Angus possessed an exceedingly pleasant baritone voice.

  Carriages were called for and as goodbyes were being said, Faro heard Angus inviting Rose to lunch with him on his afternoon off.

  She was smiling regretfully, not at all displeased.

  'Where does your friend live in Glasgow?' Faro overheard Angus asking her.

  'Just two streets away from my lodgings. In Briary Road. Do you know it?'

  'I do indeed. What a coincidence-'

  Faro turned away. He could see that even if there were no coincidence, Angus would make it his business to invent one.

  But for himself the information was important.

  Briary Road was where the murdered woman, Mrs Simms, had lived.

  As they closed the door on their guests and returned upstairs, Rose said, 'What a splendid couple the Pursleys are. A definite asset to your little group.'

  'You could almost say our family,' said Vince, 'for that is how Olivia and I regard them.'

  Rose laughed. 'Now I remember. I have seen Conan before. In the station at Glasgow - Sally advised me to book a seat at this time of year and I saw him talking to one of her neighbours. What a coincidence.'

  'Not really,' said Olivia. 'Conan visits his parents almost every week.'

  'It's a funny thing,' Rose frowned. 'I thought for a moment that he was you, Vince.'

  Olivia looked at her. 'I don't think they are a bit alike, except,' she added after a studied glance, 'except in height and they are certainly similar in build. And both have fair hair. But so has Kate.'

  'In fact you could all be related,' said Rose.

  'Typical Scots type,' said Faro.

  'We all know Rose's weakness for seeing resemblances to perfect strangers,' said Vince. 'And she believes that married couples begin to look like each other after a year or two.'

  'And their pets too,' said Olivia teasingly. 'Remember how you pointed out a striking likeness between po
or old Mrs Dayley and her horrid poodle.'

  'She was delighted. Quite flattered,' Rose protested.

  'Wait until you meet Nero - the Pursleys' dog. That will tax even your imagination,' said Vince with a chuckle.

  A shrill cry shattered their laughter at Rose's expense.

  'That'll be Jamie. He's out of his bed again. He is naughty,' said Olivia wearily. 'And it always happens on nanny's night off. Or when we have company. He enjoys making an entrance - just like his father,' she added, laughingly avoiding Vince's playful slap.

  'I must tell you about the charity performance the golf club is arranging, Rose. Your brother is very enthusiastic, just longing for a chance to tread the boards. We're doing Cinderella.'

  'What fun! Will there be a part for me? Tell me more,' said Rose.

  Overhead the cries became more insistent and Vince put a hand on his wife's shoulder. 'You stay, my dear. I'll have a stern word with the young fellow.'

  Olivia relaxed gratefully. 'Bad timing from Jamie. If this had happened earlier Kate would have been in her element. She adores Jamie, loves any chance to cuddle and cosset him. They spoil him with toys too; a typical childless couple who would have made wonderful parents.'

  'Have they been married long?' asked Rose.

  'Oh, years and years. There have been several miscarriages and now - nothing. So sad.' Olivia cocked an ear towards the door and yawned. 'I think I'll retire.' Leaning over she kissed Rose and Faro. 'Our young fellow is up and about by six. I hope he doesn't disturb you too much.'

  Alone with her father, Rose said, 'That's a very dynamic young man they've brought into the practice. Attractive too, in his way. I imagine Angus Spens will go far.'

  'So his father believes.'

  'Your new superintendent? What a coincidence.'

  She was smiling and Faro asked, 'Angus seemed to find you fascinating, lass. Mutual, was it?'

  'I'll tell you when next we meet, when I have that lunch with him,' she said with a teasing glance.

  There was a small silence before Faro said, 'What news of Danny?'

  She laughed. 'I thought you'd never ask, Pa. Remember when it was a forbidden subject with us? I'm so glad all that is behind us now and that you approve of my future husband,' she added, emphasising the word so proudly that Faro realised he need have no fears regarding young Dr Spens as far as Rose was concerned.

  'But Danny's the same as ever,' she continued with a sigh. 'Everything has to be perfect, tied up serene and secure before he comes for me.' Faro was silent.

  'What about you, Pa? Are you thinking of retiring soon, now that you've completed your thirty years on the force?'

  Faro shrugged. 'I'm trying not to think about it, lass. I have no intentions of retiring; perhaps a change of scene someday, that's all. I might go to America.'

  Rose's eyes widened at that. 'We might go together, begin a new life with Danny. Wouldn't that be wonderful?'

  'I was only joking, lass. I've been long enough with Vince and Olivia, I certainly wouldn't inflict myself on another pair of newly-weds in my old age.'

  She took his hand. 'You mustn't think of it like that. Besides, you'll never be old, Pa. Sometimes you don't seem any older than Vince - or me. And you have many rich, full years ahead of you.' With a sly glance she went on, 'We haven't given up hope of marrying you off some day - to some suitable woman.'

  He shook his head sadly. 'Don't depend on that one, lass.'

  Rose poked the dying fire thoughtfully and, keeping her tone casual, she asked, 'How is Ireland - ever hear from your lady writer?'

  Faro sighed. 'Very occasionally, not enough to build hopes or dreams on. Let's not forget that Imogen Crowe is first and foremost a Fenian terrorist, with a price on her head. If she sets foot in this country they'll put her in prison. Her life would be forfeit.'

  'You could go and see her, though. Have a holiday.'

  He shook his head. 'False hopes and dreams, Rose love. I've had them all and that's where they're likely to remain - in the realms of fantasy,' he added with a sigh.

  At her sorrowful expression, he hugged her and whispered, 'Thanks for caring, lass. Sorry I can't oblige you with a nice stepmama.'

  'I just want you to be happy, Pa. I liked Imogen. I felt that she was right for you. I'd like fine to see you settled down before Danny and I take off together.' She looked at him earnestly. 'I'd hate to have you left on the shelf.'

  Faro chuckled. 'Spoken like a true mama! You'll do well in God's good time!'

  When she continued to look grave, he said, 'Cheer up, I'm happy enough. I have Vince and Olivia, and wee Jamie, and we all get along famously. What more could a man ask for?'

  She gave him a candid glance. 'You're too good to live your life vicariously through other folks' happiness. Has it never occurred to you that it's about time you deserved some of your own?'

  When he made no comment she said, 'Maybe Imogen's waiting over there for you to do the asking. Like me waiting for Danny,' she added sadly.

  Faro shook his head. 'You've got it all wrong, lass. If Imogen really wanted me, she'd not wait to be asked. She's that kind of woman, the kind you admire so much.'

  'And what would your answer be?' Rose asked eagerly, with new hope in her eyes.

  He wagged a finger at her, his smile enigmatic. 'Who knows? Wait and see.'

  Chapter 14

  Suddenly Faro found his home was the centre of a hive of activity into which Rose threw herself with the characteristic enthusiasm and energy that marked the few occasions she spent with her family.

  And now that family was extended. There was little Jamie, the 'young fellow', to dote on, to spoil and take for walks. There were more ambitious walks with her father on Arthur's Seat on the rare moments when their time at home coincided.

  But most of all there was Olivia whose good works had extended to organising a benefit at the Pleasance Theatre for the Gentlewomen's Fund for City Orphans.

  An amateur production of Cinderella was in preparation and members of the local golfing fraternity, including Vince and Conan and others belonging to a glee club, had been prevailed upon to provide some spirited singing. Meanwhile, behind the scenes of frantic rehearsals wives, mothers and sisters had been persuaded to sew or otherwise provide the costumes.

  This was to be a pantomime with a difference, an all-male cast with the exception of Cinderella. It was billed as: 'A great amateur extravaganza with a talented conjurer, an acrobat and a profusion of the most popular of current music hall ballads.'

  But even as plans were made, beyond cosy lamplit drawing rooms with Christmas trees and peaceful snowy gardens lay shadows of darkness and fear. For in that wintry gloom there was one unforgettable menace, the still missing madwoman, Conan's patient.

  It was a time of terror when few of the area's female residents cared to travel without an escort. The days were short and nightfall descended at four o'clock, by which time solitary females glanced nervously over shoulders and recognised the wisdom and urgent necessity of heading for safety and home, with the key turned in the lock as speedily as possible.

  Up to now, all attacks had been in the open, but one could never be sure that the Lady Killer's range might not be extended, the temptation of an unlocked door, somewhere to hide, irresistible.

  This murky outer ring of uncertainty and lurking danger had become Faro's arena where he sought clues to the disappearance of a woman who could appear wraithlike from the dark, strike her victim with a kitchen knife (for so it had been concluded was the weapon involved) and then melt away into the night.

  Where was she hiding or, more correctly Faro suspected, who was providing her with a refuge? In front of her lay Newington with its villas and their handsome gardens. Behind her the deserted barren stretch of volcanic rock and rough grass that were Arthur's Seat, broken only by the forbidding shape of Solomon's Tower at its base.

  An unlikely place of concealment, Faro decided. Was there another explanation, an accomplice or a friend in the new vi
llas with or without knowledge of her homicidal tendencies?

  But who and where?

  And staring up at the vast bulk of Arthur's Seat, a mass of treacherous rocks and fissures at present being combed over in all the hours of daylight by every available policeman, he wondered if there were some secret hiding place on the hill itself.

  And Faro remembered the many legends of hidden chambers. Most folk tales were based on a grain of truth. Could there be some secret chamber inside the hill, some long-abandoned hermit's cave?

  As each patrol of constables returned from a fruitless search, Faro could not shake off the feeling that all these killings were linked by one still-elusive vital clue. Find it and the reason for this whole series of crimes would be revealed.

  He realised that one other mystery remained unsolved: the question of the bookseller's demise, which Conan insisted could not have been a coincidence.

  'Possibly Celia was on a visit to him when she disappeared. That might have been her last sighting. The old man died of pneumonia resulting from the influenza. In his weakened state a fall would be fatal, according to the medical report,' Conan added, with a shake of his head.

  'I am not convinced. I would like to know a great deal more about how he came by those bruises, supposedly the result of falling headlong down a flight of stairs,' Faro said firmly. 'What I want to know is did he sustain such injuries before he fell?'

  Conan had persuaded Vince that his theory was right, and that the snuff-seller Bob had provided the vital clue: Dr Benjamin had been approached by a man 'not from these parts' determined to purchase the valuable book that was not for sale.

  'Let's look at it this way,' said Vince eagerly. 'When he refused to sell, the prospective buyer decided to get possession by fair means or foul. The most logical explanation is that he disturbed the old man who got in his way and was trying to escape, and he pushed him downstairs.'