Rose McQuinn 7 - Deadly Legacy (12 page)

And seated at the kitchen table, after dealing with the usual polite preliminaries regarding health and the weather, I asked had she seen any more activities at Mrs Lawers' house.

'Just the usual policemen who seem to be looking for something. They were talking to the Frenchie. Very annoyed and upset he was. I stood at the door listening, he was protesting like mad.'

That pleased her. 'Something about a hurt bird that he was looking for. I've seen him looking in the windows again, but I didn't tell the police. Not my business.'

She looked thoughtful. 'Mind you, maybe they think he had something to do with what happened to poor Mary. Wouldn't surprise me. He looks villainous enough. Scruffy, wild hair, not like the gentleman he pretends to be.'

A pause and she added, 'Remember that man I told you about, who was such a bully to poor Mary? Well, he's been back a couple of times and I've seen him walking round the house, staring in at the windows, as if he might be thinking of breaking in.

'Last night when he was there again, prowling about the back garden, I went out, asked him what he wanted. He kept his head down, turned his back on me. I asked if I could help and he said not unless I had a key to the premises.

'That made me right angry, I can tell you. I said of course not but what did he want anyway? And that made him angry, he swore at me and shouted it was none of my damned business. Cheeky devil!'

Giving her a moment to calm down, I asked, 'When is the funeral?'

'No one's told us. I asked one of the policemen and he said not until after the Fiscal's report. About the gas and so forth.'

What were they looking for, hoping to find? I wondered as she added, 'That big bossy man giving orders, behaves like a policeman but he doesn't wear a uniform ...' The description fitted Chief Inspector Gray. '... he's been around asking questions up and down the street, all the houses. I could only tell him that we were all friendly neighbours and I didn't know if Mary had any enemies, but then we didn't talk about private affairs.'

'Didn't you mention the prowler?'

She nodded. 'I did that. Told him about the man wanting a key but he said probably a prospective buyer who wanted to put in a bid for what was a historic property - you know, associated with Bonnie Prince Charlie and the siege of Edinburgh. He didn't seem all that interested, especially as there have been other local folk wandering past and peering in at the windows, as well as neighbours like the Frenchie. Not a bit of shame, these other nosy folk from round about, the kind who dash to the scene of accidents full of morbid curiosity.'

I left her and as I headed homewards I couldn't help wondering what Gray's reactions would be if I told him about my encounter with the bogus maid who tried to kill me. Jack would say that I was concealing vital evidence.

On second thoughts, aware of Gray's low regard for my success as a lady investigator, he would probably dismiss that as circumstantial evidence. Besides, I must tell Jack first of all.

* * *

There was no message from the hospital. I breathed a sigh of relief. It meant that there had been no crisis and that Jack was still alive. And if I knew him, putting up a fight for survival.

Next morning as I made my way along the corridor, outside Jack's ward, I was intercepted by a nurse who asked for my name. I said 'Mrs McQuinn' and she shook her head. 'Family visitors only, I'm afraid. That's the rule.'

I stood my ground. 'I am not his wife, but we live together.' And disregarding her scandalised expression I explained that Jack's only family were his parents, living at a fair distance on the Borders. They were elderly, didn't travel and Jack would be relying on me to keep them informed.

As I was speaking, the surgeon Mr Wainland had approached and obviously overheard the conversation. Recognising me, he looked unperturbed by what he had heard and, bowing, said, 'Of course you may visit.' And to the nurse standing stiffly at my side, 'Kindly inform Sister that Mrs McQuinn is to be admitted at any time.'

Turning to me again, he smiled. 'Our patient is making good progress considering the seriousness of the injury and the loss of blood he sustained. We will have a better report, hopefully in a day or two, and certainly seeing you will cheer him up.' He wagged a finger at me. 'But only ten minutes, this first time. See to it, Nurse.'

Opening the door, she ushered me inside. I went over to the bed. Jack's eyes were closed. He looked pale and wan, far from his normal, healthy, outdoors complexion.

I touched his hands on the counterpane and whispered, 'Jack!'

His eyes flickered open. For a moment dazed, like one awakened from a dream, he then smiled, a shadow of that old familiar grin. Leaning over, I kissed him.

A chuckle. 'Steady on there. I am forbidden any excitement, doctor's orders. Have to remain calm at all costs.' We both laughed, entwined fingers. Then came the question I was dreading.

'Have you seen Meg? How does she look? Have they had a photograph taken of her? I've asked for one so often. And did she like the doll I sent for her birthday?'

There was nothing else for it. I took a deep breath, and carefully editing out any mention of Lochandor and my frustration and defeat in tracking down Meg, I told him precisely what he was most anxious to hear. That she had found good adoptive parents, with a very nice house in Joppa.

'Did you see her, then?'

'No,' I had to reluctantly admit. And as Jack's expression turned to one of dismay, I said hastily, 'The housekeeper told me that the family had gone up north to Aberdeen to present Meg to her new relatives.'

The mention of a housekeeper seemed to impress and I added the reassurance that I would return at the end of the week.

If I had any misgivings, I kept them to myself. I did not care to air them to the invalid, especially an uneasy and growing suspicion that the woman who handed on Meg via the orphanage at Lochandor was perhaps just a step away from the notorious Edinburgh baby farmer in Stockbridge and in Dalkeith Road in the 1880s, just a stone's throw from Arthur's Seat.

Jack listened patiently. 'Well, it all seems very promising. These Blakers people sound like ideal foster parents. However, the final business, signing papers and all that sort of thing - not needed when her Aunt Pam took her - that will have to be dealt with now, all made legal.' Another sigh. 'Have to wait until I'm up and about again.'

He moved gently as if to get into a more comfortable position. 'Have you told my parents yet what happened? About the accident? They're in the police records - next of kin,' he added with an apologetic glance as if it should be me. 'However, I've told the doctors about them being elderly and I don't want some local bobby charging up to their door with bad news ...' He paused and smiled thinly. 'I said that you were the one to break it to them gently.'

I realised that 'bad news' and 'breaking it gently' meant that Jack had not expected to survive at all. I shivered and said, 'I've already mentioned the situation regarding your parents to the surgeon, so I'll send them a letter right away, just saying that you had an accident at work--'

'A
slight
accident - stress that, Rose. Nothing serious,' he put in. 'Go on ...'

'And that you are meanwhile in hospital but making good progress.'

I felt I should cross my fingers as I said it.

'That's the ticket.' His smile twisted into a grimace, a spasm of pain, then a cough brought the nurse rushing in. Bending over him she took his pulse with a reproachful glance in my direction.

'Please go now. You've had more than your ten minutes.' And she added severely, 'Visits tire patients out, you know.'

'Is he going to be all right?' I asked.

'Come back tomorrow. We'll know better then.'

Walking towards the entrance, picking up my bicycle, I tried to fight back tears which threatened to blind me to the road ahead. Pessimism has never been one of my vices. Even in my darkest hours in Arizona when Danny disappeared and I lost our baby, I had never completely given in to despair. Once again, I had to learn to face facts, however terrible.

But what if Jack did not recover, or, what was uppermost in my mind, did recover, but was left unable to carry on his duties as a detective inspector? Pensioned off with early retirement for him would be the equivalent of dying.

And that other question resolutely forced to the back of my mind refused to be banished. What of Meg, the child for whose existence I also felt a shadow of responsibility?

Back in Solomon's Tower, I wrote to Andy and Jess Macmerry trying to make Jack's accident sound as light as possible, just a gunshot wound but healing nicely. That didn't sound exactly truthful and struck, on reading it over, a note of false cheer. I sealed the envelope firmly, cycled down to the nearest postbox, and returning considered the thorny question of that other responsibility nagging so heavily on my conscience: Mrs Lawers' legacy.

There was only one thing to do. Hopefully it contained some clue as to where its future lay and a clue as to why I had been attacked on the Perth train while Mrs Lawers and her maid were murdered to gain possession of its contents.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Thane was absent. The Tower seemed strangely empty, desolate without his presence; although he spent more time out on the hill during the day, reverting as he often did in autumn to being a wild deerhound, hunting, catching and eating his own food, he always returned when darkness fell to take up his role of protecting me, especially when Jack was away from home.

But at the back of my mind I knew the reason for my present unease. Thane had been with me for six years, since I first came to live here on Arthur's Seat, and despite the curious, almost unbelievable story regarding his breed which Dr Everson had told me, I could not shake off the fear that one day he might grow old and not return and I must lose him for ever.

Thrusting aside these melancholy thoughts, I went across to my desk, where at the back of the drawer lay Mrs Lawers' package alongside my derringer.

Suddenly there was a ring at the front doorbell. Praying that it wasn't news from the hospital, I opened the door to find Beth on the doorstep. A very different Beth from the pale shivering girl, so frightened and tearful, I had first met clutching a newborn baby to her heart.

'I do hope you don't mind me calling on you unannounced.' She smiled and went on quickly, 'But you were so kind to me, I wanted to say thank you again and let you know what has happened ...'

I invited her in and we walked across the hall. 'The kitchen, I'm afraid,' I said apologetically, aware of present neglect, of floors needing sweeping and a duster vigorously applied.

She sat down, removed her gloves and smiled. 'I came by train and got off down the road, but the horse omnibuses from Portobello are also convenient for those of us without carriages. Don't you agree?'

I nodded. She didn't know about my own unique form of transport, the bicycle parked in the barn.

'Nanny and Adrian are looking after the baby--'

'Adrian?'

That accounted for the radiance, I decided, as she clasped her hands delightedly.

'Yes, Adrian! I am so happy, Rose, I just had to let you know. We have been reunited and he and his actor friend Steven are staying with Nanny just now.'

And so the story she longed to tell began to unfold.

'Adrian was so upset, I can't tell you, about my parents' foul treatment. They turned him from the door, told him sternly that I wanted nothing to do with him and refused to tell him where I had gone.'

She paused for breath and I asked what was intriguing me most at that moment. 'Is he pleased about the baby?'

A wry smile. 'A little taken aback. He had no idea, of course, nor did my parents mention that I was pregnant and that I had not found out until he was away on tour. He wants her called Lillie - after his favourite actress Lillie Langtry, who he once had the pleasure of meeting in London.' She frowned, and as I waited for her to continue, I asked, 'You did not mention that your own baby was a little boy?'

She shrugged and said firmly, 'No. He was so pleased to have a little girl - he had always wanted a girl. When he said that, I did not want to spoil it for him with a disappointment, or throw in all those horrible complications, that awful business of the substitution.'

Pausing, she shook her head. 'I just didn't know where to begin. I wanted to forget it all, just be happy together again, pretend it had never happened, like a bad dream.'

She looked at me as if for some comment, hopefully approval. I said nothing, thinking only that this situation bore all the roots of further disasters. Beaming at me, she said, 'You know, I have grown so used to little Lillie now, that I almost believe she was always mine.'

I shook my head. It might well be complicated for Adrian to understand the truth, but this attitude of building a life on such a shaky foundation was quite beyond me.

'I hope we will marry as soon as I come of age next year,' she went on. 'Adrian thinks we should wait, as I come into an inheritance from my great aunt when I am eighteen, but I lose all claim to it if I marry before that without my parents' consent. I do have a small personal allowance which keeps me going, without any luxuries, of course.'

A sigh and I thought of the thousands of young girls in poor homes who had been in a similar predicament, disgraced, thrown out by angry parents and forced in despair to end it all with a leap from the Waverley Bridge, or if they were of stronger stuff, take to the great army of prostitutes walking the Edinburgh streets, selling their bodies to keep from starving.

As for the unfortunate babies, they belonged in the chronicles of baby farmers who made a lucrative business of conveniently disposing of unwanted infants. Not by adoption but by murder - for a small fee and no questions asked.

Beth was saying, 'It isn't long to wait, especially as Adrian has expectations of his own. It's a big secret, something he cannot talk about, not even to me, but it will bring him fame and fortune. I think it has to do with a recent audition in London. Now isn't that exciting news?' Her eyes gleamed bright. 'Oh, I should dearly love to move to England.'