Read Online The Evil That Men Do.(Inspector Faro Mystery No.11) by Alanna Knight - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alanna Knight
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also embarrassed, at a loss for the appropriate response. The kind of questions he was used to asking widows, whose husbands had died under very suspicious circumstances and arsenic poisoning, were suddenly quite shocking before this gentle woman whose daughter was to marry his stepson.
And yet - and yet. In the past had he not conducted just such interviews in just such elegant surroundings with an apparently inconsolable heart-broken widow? Invariably a young widow in the course of investigation revealed as a scheming murderess who had heartlessly watched an old husband die a slow and agonising death. To gain a fortune, or an insurance, or to free her for a waiting lover’s fond embrace.
Barbara’s face loomed before him in all its unattain able loveliness. The sudden thought appalled him.
Could there possibly have been a ghastly mistake? Had it been Theodore and not Cedric who was the intended victim?
Observing Maud Langweil closely as she attended to the tea ritual, her hands were quite steady, and Faro would have found it difficult to doubt that he was regard ing an innocent woman.
He prided himself upon occasional flashes of intuition and decided he would be surprised indeed to discover that Ce dric’s widow had secret reasons for wishing to rid herself of an unwanted husband. The whole idea seemed ludicrous, even indecent, to contemplate, especially as she was so eager to befriend his daughter.
Again he wished he had been able to postpone Rose’s arrival for enrolment at the Academy. The thought of his daughter besmirched by association with the as yet undiscovered murderer in the Langweil household was sickening, intolerable.
As if interpreting his discomfiture, Maud asked: ‘I suppose the question that is framing itself in your mind and that you are too polite to ask is the obvious one: were the relations between my late husband and myself quite amicable?’
Her casual tone took him aback, especially as she paused with the teacup halfway to her lips and said: ‘Isn’t that what you really are here to find out? If we were happy together?’
Faro took a deep breath: And were you?’
‘Indeed we were. The best of friends and comrades as well as having a marriage as harmonious as most of our friends’ after twenty years.’
When Faro frowned, she again interpreted his thoughts. ‘Per haps that answers the next question you are too much of a gentleman, outside your professional capacity, to ask: Did Cedric have a mistress?’
Looking towards the window, she smiled as if at a sudden vision. ‘He may in the way of many gentlemen who belong to private clubs and societies have had access to ladies of a certain profession.’ Her shrug was eloquent. I never enquired, nor had I any desire to know of such occasions, A man is a man, Mr Faro, and we women are brought up to realise that such small indiscretions are part of their nature but have naught to do with destroying the structure of an otherwise happy marriage.’
She shrugged. ‘We are taught to tolerate such matters and ignore them. Lusts of the moment and nothing more, Mr Faro. With as little lasting effect as the gratification of appetite. Which in fact, as a man, you must recognise is all that it is—’
Faro was saved the further embarrassment of a reply to this forthright condemnation of his sex’s morals by a tap at the door.
‘Mama?’ Grace looked in anxiously. Are you able to see Madame Rich? Or shall I ask her to come back later?’
‘No, my dear. Tell her I will see her. If Mr Faro will excuse us. Madame Rich is our dressmaker,’ she explained. ‘We have certain requirements for mourning attire - and orders that must now be postponed for Grace’s spring wedding,’ she added with a small sigh.
Faro held open the door for her, and she turned to him anxiously. ‘I do apologise, Mr Faro, for I have not answered all of your questions.’
As they descended the stairs, she added: ‘Do please come again if you think I can help you
And yet - and yet. In the past had he not conducted just such interviews in just such elegant surroundings with an apparently inconsolable heart-broken widow? Invariably a young widow in the course of investigation revealed as a scheming murderess who had heartlessly watched an old husband die a slow and agonising death. To gain a fortune, or an insurance, or to free her for a waiting lover’s fond embrace.
Barbara’s face loomed before him in all its unattain able loveliness. The sudden thought appalled him.
Could there possibly have been a ghastly mistake? Had it been Theodore and not Cedric who was the intended victim?
Observing Maud Langweil closely as she attended to the tea ritual, her hands were quite steady, and Faro would have found it difficult to doubt that he was regard ing an innocent woman.
He prided himself upon occasional flashes of intuition and decided he would be surprised indeed to discover that Ce dric’s widow had secret reasons for wishing to rid herself of an unwanted husband. The whole idea seemed ludicrous, even indecent, to contemplate, especially as she was so eager to befriend his daughter.
Again he wished he had been able to postpone Rose’s arrival for enrolment at the Academy. The thought of his daughter besmirched by association with the as yet undiscovered murderer in the Langweil household was sickening, intolerable.
As if interpreting his discomfiture, Maud asked: ‘I suppose the question that is framing itself in your mind and that you are too polite to ask is the obvious one: were the relations between my late husband and myself quite amicable?’
Her casual tone took him aback, especially as she paused with the teacup halfway to her lips and said: ‘Isn’t that what you really are here to find out? If we were happy together?’
Faro took a deep breath: And were you?’
‘Indeed we were. The best of friends and comrades as well as having a marriage as harmonious as most of our friends’ after twenty years.’
When Faro frowned, she again interpreted his thoughts. ‘Per haps that answers the next question you are too much of a gentleman, outside your professional capacity, to ask: Did Cedric have a mistress?’
Looking towards the window, she smiled as if at a sudden vision. ‘He may in the way of many gentlemen who belong to private clubs and societies have had access to ladies of a certain profession.’ Her shrug was eloquent. I never enquired, nor had I any desire to know of such occasions, A man is a man, Mr Faro, and we women are brought up to realise that such small indiscretions are part of their nature but have naught to do with destroying the structure of an otherwise happy marriage.’
She shrugged. ‘We are taught to tolerate such matters and ignore them. Lusts of the moment and nothing more, Mr Faro. With as little lasting effect as the gratification of appetite. Which in fact, as a man, you must recognise is all that it is—’
Faro was saved the further embarrassment of a reply to this forthright condemnation of his sex’s morals by a tap at the door.
‘Mama?’ Grace looked in anxiously. Are you able to see Madame Rich? Or shall I ask her to come back later?’
‘No, my dear. Tell her I will see her. If Mr Faro will excuse us. Madame Rich is our dressmaker,’ she explained. ‘We have certain requirements for mourning attire - and orders that must now be postponed for Grace’s spring wedding,’ she added with a small sigh.
Faro held open the door for her, and she turned to him anxiously. ‘I do apologise, Mr Faro, for I have not answered all of your questions.’
As they descended the stairs, she added: ‘Do please come again if you think I can help you
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