Read Online The Missing Duchess by Alanna Knight - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alanna Knight
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Detective and Mystery Stories, Police, England, London, Large Type Books, Large Print Books, Faro; Jeremy (Fictitious Character), Faro; Inspector (Fictitious Character)
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bodice, stained by cats and ripped by their claws, suggested that this was yet another of the Dowager Lady Marsh's elegant cast-offs.
The sight offended Faro, deeply. By no means a frugal man, he deplored such waste. Such a gown, now a bed for cats, would have fetched an excellent price in Edinburgh's luckenbooths, and provided meals in plenty for many a starving family.
Without any further compunction about searching the house for the missing baronet, he went down a few steps and opened an old studded door, where there was another surprise in store.
He was in a stone-walled chapel-like apartment. Instead of the religious symbols its mitred roof suggested, here were the accoutrements of the Ancient Order of Templars. Doubtless Sir Hedley had belonged to the order in his youth, as did so many of the nobility. But what struck Faro as extraordinary was that the room was clean and obviously well-tended and completely out of character with the sordid condition of the rest of the house. Who then was the guardian of this shrine, for Sir Hedley seemed an improbable choice?
The sight of this serene chapel left him with a sense of disquiet, as he pondered other inconsistencies such as Sir Hedley's apparently innocent role as rescuer of Miss Fortescue.
Had he misjudged Sir Hedley, dismissed him as a harmless eccentric? Was Vince's loathing unconsciously justified and did the Mad Bart, in fact, hold a sinister role in the Grand Duchess's disappearance?
By the time Faro had put some distance between himself and Solomon's Tower, the thought of Sir Hedley's complicity became even more unlikely, and as he approached the High Street, his sense of logic reasserted itself.
The truth was undoubtedly that he had been too involved with his own distaste for the West Bow. His eagerness to get the investigation over with as soon as possible had permitted the unforgivable in a detective. He had allowed his preoccupation with bitter personal emotions regarding his long-dead father to blunt his normally acute powers of observation and deduction.
With a dawning sense of horror at a nightmare that had already begun and from which there was no probable awakening, he could no longer delay reliving the scene from that moment Constable Reid summoned him from his carriage to view a beggar-woman's corpse.
This time he would proceed as a diligent detective on the look-out for anything even slightly out of the ordinary that would never be considered except in a possible murder investigation.
He stepped into the Central Office to be hailed by Danny McQuinn, who had newly returned from Aberdeen. Faro was glad to see his young sergeant again and, after a few moments' social conversation, he decided that McQuinn had better become acquainted with the case of the missing Grand Duchess. Once the bane of his life, the passing years had smoothed the rough edges of the Irishman's personality. Trust, respect and even grudging admiration had grown between the two men.
In addition, Faro recognised with gratitude that, on more than one occasion, he owed his life to McQuinn's quick thinking. And this had extended to members of Faro's family.
McQuinn was sharp, none better, and Faro was consoled that he made no immediate connection between the missing Duchess and the dead vagrant in the West Bow. Or at least if he did, then he refrained from comment.
'Drownings in the Forth, sir? Nothing reported. Weather's been good since the storm,' McQuinn added.
'Try further afield, McQuinn. Bodies can be carried right across the estuary to the coast of Fife or down the East Lothian coast.'
'What sort of a corpse are we looking for, sir?'
'A coachman, possibly in some sort of livery.'
'I take it he was driving the lady's carriage.'
'Yes.'
McQuinn thought for a moment. 'As both are missing, could there be some connection? I mean, like kidnapping, holding her to ransom.'
'I've thought of that.'
'The newspaper might have a photograph of her, sir. Dare say Miss Fortescue will
The sight offended Faro, deeply. By no means a frugal man, he deplored such waste. Such a gown, now a bed for cats, would have fetched an excellent price in Edinburgh's luckenbooths, and provided meals in plenty for many a starving family.
Without any further compunction about searching the house for the missing baronet, he went down a few steps and opened an old studded door, where there was another surprise in store.
He was in a stone-walled chapel-like apartment. Instead of the religious symbols its mitred roof suggested, here were the accoutrements of the Ancient Order of Templars. Doubtless Sir Hedley had belonged to the order in his youth, as did so many of the nobility. But what struck Faro as extraordinary was that the room was clean and obviously well-tended and completely out of character with the sordid condition of the rest of the house. Who then was the guardian of this shrine, for Sir Hedley seemed an improbable choice?
The sight of this serene chapel left him with a sense of disquiet, as he pondered other inconsistencies such as Sir Hedley's apparently innocent role as rescuer of Miss Fortescue.
Had he misjudged Sir Hedley, dismissed him as a harmless eccentric? Was Vince's loathing unconsciously justified and did the Mad Bart, in fact, hold a sinister role in the Grand Duchess's disappearance?
By the time Faro had put some distance between himself and Solomon's Tower, the thought of Sir Hedley's complicity became even more unlikely, and as he approached the High Street, his sense of logic reasserted itself.
The truth was undoubtedly that he had been too involved with his own distaste for the West Bow. His eagerness to get the investigation over with as soon as possible had permitted the unforgivable in a detective. He had allowed his preoccupation with bitter personal emotions regarding his long-dead father to blunt his normally acute powers of observation and deduction.
With a dawning sense of horror at a nightmare that had already begun and from which there was no probable awakening, he could no longer delay reliving the scene from that moment Constable Reid summoned him from his carriage to view a beggar-woman's corpse.
This time he would proceed as a diligent detective on the look-out for anything even slightly out of the ordinary that would never be considered except in a possible murder investigation.
He stepped into the Central Office to be hailed by Danny McQuinn, who had newly returned from Aberdeen. Faro was glad to see his young sergeant again and, after a few moments' social conversation, he decided that McQuinn had better become acquainted with the case of the missing Grand Duchess. Once the bane of his life, the passing years had smoothed the rough edges of the Irishman's personality. Trust, respect and even grudging admiration had grown between the two men.
In addition, Faro recognised with gratitude that, on more than one occasion, he owed his life to McQuinn's quick thinking. And this had extended to members of Faro's family.
McQuinn was sharp, none better, and Faro was consoled that he made no immediate connection between the missing Duchess and the dead vagrant in the West Bow. Or at least if he did, then he refrained from comment.
'Drownings in the Forth, sir? Nothing reported. Weather's been good since the storm,' McQuinn added.
'Try further afield, McQuinn. Bodies can be carried right across the estuary to the coast of Fife or down the East Lothian coast.'
'What sort of a corpse are we looking for, sir?'
'A coachman, possibly in some sort of livery.'
'I take it he was driving the lady's carriage.'
'Yes.'
McQuinn thought for a moment. 'As both are missing, could there be some connection? I mean, like kidnapping, holding her to ransom.'
'I've thought of that.'
'The newspaper might have a photograph of her, sir. Dare say Miss Fortescue will
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