Killing Cousins (5 page)

Another delighted smile. Their ways parted with a promise to meet again and a bewildered Faro followed his stepson into the hall.

From the shadows Mary Faro emerged, drying her hands on her apron, and clasped her only son to her heart, rapturous at his unexpected appearance.

'Oh, son, I can hardly believe it's you. You never told me,' she reproached Vince.

'He wanted to surprise you.'

'And you did that, all right.' And linking arms with both of them she said, 'Well, I'm glad. I'm glad. Even if it is a melancholy time for you to come to this house.' And, standing on tiptoe, she kissed him again. 'You can have a room of your own, next to Vince. It's all very grand - not what we were used to in Kirkwall when you were a lad,' she continued as Faro was complimentary about a fine wide oak staircase leading up to a portrait gallery festooned with stags' heads, rising in a forest of antlers.

His mother proudly ushered him into an elegant and fashionable bedroom furnished in mahogany. Satisfied with his suitable exclamations of delight, she departed, carrying away wet garments and promising her two precious dears a nice pot of Earl Grey tea.

Faro sat down on the bed, slowly removed his boots. Staring at his feet, he was still hearing Inga's voice, her laugh, unable to obliterate her still-violent assault on his senses, that strong capable hand he had held. And Jeremy Faro, who prided himself on his total recall, the superb memory and observation which had helped him solve many a baffling crime, now made the disquieting deduction that he was unable to remember a single word of his conversation with Inga St Ola less than half an hour ago.

Awareness extended to Vince, silently staring out of the window, Faro realised how little the lad had contributed to the conversation with Inga. Quite unlike himself since any attractive woman was a challenge. But this time gallantry, chivalry even, had been strangely absent.

Vince turned, aware of being the subject of that careful scrutiny. And, familiar over the years with his stepson's reactions, Faro knew that Inga's magic left that normally susceptible young man unmoved. In fact, without a word being spoken between them, he knew that his stepson heartily disliked her.

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 Captain 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.