Read Online Murder by Appointment: Inspector Faro No.10 by Alanna Knight - Free Book Online
Authors: Alanna Knight
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illustrious relative.'
Obviously John Brown had not the least idea what the word 'incognito' meant since he arrived by open carriage in full Highland dress. His red hair, beard and the 'Balmoral' bonnet identified him immediately to all of Edinburgh familiar with the Illustrated News, as well as those who had seen scurrilous cartoons and drawings of John Brown with Her Majesty circulated privately.
Faro and Brown were of equal height and, Lachlan decided, both somewhat intimidating personalities. Two men, he thought, suppressing a smile, who were more than a match for one another.
Faro, sensitive to atmosphere, was immediately aware that Brown, an indifferent actor, was not pleased by this unexpected encounter despite Lachlan's enthusiastic introduction. After a polite exchange of greetings and an acknowledgement of their last meeting, Brown surveyed the Chief Inspector from under lowered brows. His expression was one of extreme caution, his tone evasive, his words slow and chosen with care.
It was, thought Faro, as if he expected each one might be taken down and used in evidence. Not until much later did he realize the excellent reason for Brown's behaviour.
Unaware of any tensions between the two men, Lachlan said, 'I have told Uncle John about McNair's visit and that you would like to know more about his background.'
'I understand the puir man is dead,' said Brown.
'That is what we are investigating.'
The word 'investigating' startled Brown. He sat upright, listening carefully as Faro explained the circumstances of McNair's death.
'Do you suspect foul play?' he demanded sharply.
'That may be difficult to prove.'
Brown looked relieved and ceased chewing the end of his moustache as Faro added, 'However, unless his body can be formally identified and claimed within a few days, it must be disposed of by the city's medical officers.'
Brown nodded 'I ken Davy McNair well. An awfae' like thing to happen to him. He was groom at Balmoral, been in Royal service as long as I can remember.'
'Had he any family?'
'He wasna' married, if that's what you mean. There was a sister, Bessie—twin to him. She was a housemaid at the Castle too and they had a cottage on the estate. They were near neighbours to your auntie.'
Listening, Faro felt triumphant. So his memory had not failed him entirely. He had doubtless seen Bessie McNair on his last visit to Deeside several years ago, for his aunt's birthday party begun in such high spirits and culminating in the mists of Glen Muick where only seconds separated the Queen from death at the hands of an assassin.
'When did they leave Her Majesty's service?'
Brown frowned. 'A while since. There was a wee bit of trouble.' He wriggled uncomfortably. 'I dinna ken exactly what was involved. Some sort of pilfering.'
'Pilfering? After many years of loyal service, that does seem a little strange.'
'Temptation, man. It's a great thing is temptation.' The deep sigh that accompanied his words indicated more clearly than any speech that this was a subject on which John Brown could say a great deal, indeed that he might prove to be something of an authority on temptations.
'I'll take a look, identify him formally, if ye like. He'd want to be buried in Crathie and I can arrange that. Any sign of his sister?' Brown added. 'Rumour had it she'd gone to Edinburgh. Mebbe he'd come to look for her.'
Faro did not relish having to tell that Bessie McNair was also dead, killed in a road accident.
Brown tut-tutted. 'Is that a fact now? Man, man, that's terrible. Although it's mebbe better that way. I mean them being so close. I've often heard tell that with twins, one doesnae' long survive the other.'
Reading Faro's doubtful expression, he said hastily, 'You're not hinting that these unfortunate happenings were anything else but accidental Inspector? A rare coincidence—'
A lifetime's association of dealing with highly suspect alibis had left Faro with no great faith in amazing or rare co incidences.
Obviously John Brown had not the least idea what the word 'incognito' meant since he arrived by open carriage in full Highland dress. His red hair, beard and the 'Balmoral' bonnet identified him immediately to all of Edinburgh familiar with the Illustrated News, as well as those who had seen scurrilous cartoons and drawings of John Brown with Her Majesty circulated privately.
Faro and Brown were of equal height and, Lachlan decided, both somewhat intimidating personalities. Two men, he thought, suppressing a smile, who were more than a match for one another.
Faro, sensitive to atmosphere, was immediately aware that Brown, an indifferent actor, was not pleased by this unexpected encounter despite Lachlan's enthusiastic introduction. After a polite exchange of greetings and an acknowledgement of their last meeting, Brown surveyed the Chief Inspector from under lowered brows. His expression was one of extreme caution, his tone evasive, his words slow and chosen with care.
It was, thought Faro, as if he expected each one might be taken down and used in evidence. Not until much later did he realize the excellent reason for Brown's behaviour.
Unaware of any tensions between the two men, Lachlan said, 'I have told Uncle John about McNair's visit and that you would like to know more about his background.'
'I understand the puir man is dead,' said Brown.
'That is what we are investigating.'
The word 'investigating' startled Brown. He sat upright, listening carefully as Faro explained the circumstances of McNair's death.
'Do you suspect foul play?' he demanded sharply.
'That may be difficult to prove.'
Brown looked relieved and ceased chewing the end of his moustache as Faro added, 'However, unless his body can be formally identified and claimed within a few days, it must be disposed of by the city's medical officers.'
Brown nodded 'I ken Davy McNair well. An awfae' like thing to happen to him. He was groom at Balmoral, been in Royal service as long as I can remember.'
'Had he any family?'
'He wasna' married, if that's what you mean. There was a sister, Bessie—twin to him. She was a housemaid at the Castle too and they had a cottage on the estate. They were near neighbours to your auntie.'
Listening, Faro felt triumphant. So his memory had not failed him entirely. He had doubtless seen Bessie McNair on his last visit to Deeside several years ago, for his aunt's birthday party begun in such high spirits and culminating in the mists of Glen Muick where only seconds separated the Queen from death at the hands of an assassin.
'When did they leave Her Majesty's service?'
Brown frowned. 'A while since. There was a wee bit of trouble.' He wriggled uncomfortably. 'I dinna ken exactly what was involved. Some sort of pilfering.'
'Pilfering? After many years of loyal service, that does seem a little strange.'
'Temptation, man. It's a great thing is temptation.' The deep sigh that accompanied his words indicated more clearly than any speech that this was a subject on which John Brown could say a great deal, indeed that he might prove to be something of an authority on temptations.
'I'll take a look, identify him formally, if ye like. He'd want to be buried in Crathie and I can arrange that. Any sign of his sister?' Brown added. 'Rumour had it she'd gone to Edinburgh. Mebbe he'd come to look for her.'
Faro did not relish having to tell that Bessie McNair was also dead, killed in a road accident.
Brown tut-tutted. 'Is that a fact now? Man, man, that's terrible. Although it's mebbe better that way. I mean them being so close. I've often heard tell that with twins, one doesnae' long survive the other.'
Reading Faro's doubtful expression, he said hastily, 'You're not hinting that these unfortunate happenings were anything else but accidental Inspector? A rare coincidence—'
A lifetime's association of dealing with highly suspect alibis had left Faro with no great faith in amazing or rare co incidences.
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