Rose McQuinn 7 - Deadly Legacy (14 page)

There was no more I could do that day, so I decided to return Beth's gloves and made for Nanny Craigle's address in Portobello that she had given me, a pleasant bicycle ride on a calm sunny autumn day, interludes to be cherished before the storms came raging in from the North Sea.

I was pleased to find the house where Beth had taken refuge in a charming road close to the sea with a glimpse of the promenade. Searching for the number as I approached the gate, I saw a man emerging from the front door.

'A moment, please - I am about to call on Mrs Craigle.'

Turning, he gave me a startled glance and said, 'Of course.' And thrusting open the door again, he called, 'A visitor for you,' bowed hastily and hurried down the street.

I stared after him, sure for a moment that we had met before. A woman came hurrying into the hallway. Smiling, she was silver-haired, with the gentle features and ample frame that must have been a comfort to her charges.

I introduced myself and handing her the gloves, explained how Beth had left them at the Tower.

'Miss Beth will be sorry to have missed you. She has taken Lillie to meet some friends of Adrian's.'

'Adrian? Is that the young man who has just left?'

'It is indeed. A fine actor,' she added proudly. 'I have two of them boarding with me at present. Do come in if you have a moment to spare.' I followed her into a pleasant parlour, beyond the window a pretty garden.

'I have just made a cup of tea,' she added, inviting me to take a seat. 'I know all about you from my wee girl - I mean Miss Beth, I still think of her as a little lass. She told Adrian and me all about you and that old tower you live in. Adrian egged her on, wanted all the details; he loves old houses, it's all part of being an actor in historical roles.'

That was why I was sure we had met before and I told her I must have seen him at the Pleasance Theatre with the Portobello Players, where Jack was especially keen on supporting local talent.

Mrs Craigle smiled indulgently. 'Adrian will be pleased to hear that. He is very good - too good, alas, we feel for a repertory company. His ambition is the London stage. Not vaudeville,' she added hastily, 'that's too common for Adrian. He has set his heart on performing Shakespeare, like his idols.'

She paused and bit her lip. 'It's all very well, but I'm not entirely sure that being an actor's wife is the right thing for Miss Beth. London's a big city from what I hear and there's a lot of bad things go on which she hasn't experienced in her sheltered life.'

She sighed. 'And there's the added complication of having a baby to look after. Adrian loves little Lillie but how would they be able to afford a wee baby?'

Hesitating, she looked at me. 'Miss Beth confided in me that you know her terrible story - God knows it's an absolute disgrace, but let's face it, neither of them are Lillie's real parents, and to be quite honest with you, I'm deeply worried about her future.'

She shook her head. 'Miss Beth ought to tell Adrian the truth but she's scared that if he knows the baby isn't his, well, that might change his mind about getting married.' A sigh and she went on, 'Adrian is a good fellow - but what we call "deep", if you know what I mean. He doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, neither does his friend Steven, the other actor who lives here - he's very ambitious too, harps on about his ancestral connections.' She paused.

'The two of them were always a bit wild, you know, gambling and drinking too much, the way young lads are, and Adrian was heavily under Steven's influence until Beth came into his life. Lots of young ladies but never any commitments. That's how Adrian got Miss Beth into trouble,' she added grimly. 'I blame myself for that. They used to meet here. I should have known what was going on - I'm afraid I still thought of her as a stage-struck wee lass, nothing more.'

Pausing to refill my teacup, she regarded me steadily as if trying to make up her mind about what to say next. 'As a matter of fact, I had in mind a different ending. At seventeen a lass can't see ahead like those of us who have lived a bit longer. It was a pity about the baby, but I've always thought she would be much happier staying in her own class, marrying a fine gentleman like Sir Frederick who is so devoted to her.'

She shook her head sadly. 'I've seen these other marriages between the daughter of the house and the coachman before, in my own life, and I could assure her they never end in happiness. Perhaps I ought not to be confiding all this in you, a stranger, but from what Beth tells me, I know that we both have her welfare at heart--'

This soul unburdening was cut short by a knock at the door. A neighbour for whom Nanny was doing some sewing had called to collect it.

I took my leave, meaning to ask Jack if he could remember which play we had seen Adrian in. The picture Nanny had painted of the handsome actor was not encouraging and I couldn't shake off an unhappy feeling that the prospects for Beth's future were not exactly heartening.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I was busy in the kitchen when Sergeant Con Wright appeared at the back door.

'I tried the front - but you didn't hear me.'

Thane bounded to the door and, inviting the sergeant to come in, I shook my head wryly.

'The bell is somewhat temperamental.' Out of loyalty I didn't add that this was just another on Jack's waiting list of household repairs. Thane was making a great fuss of the sergeant and seemed to find his uniform intriguing. 'I expect it's all those smells of foreign places,' he laughed.

'Leave him be, Thane,' I said sternly.

'No, no, maybe he recognises me.'

'How could that be?'

Again he laughed, patting Thane's head. 'We had a deerhound once, just the image of him, when I was a lad over in Fife. He was great with us children, and when he left us I never wanted another dog, unless I could have one like him.' He shook his head regretfully. 'But he's not quite the right breed for a single man in police lodgings in Edinburgh - are you, old chap?' And turning to me, 'It's perfect for him here with the hill and all.'

I wanted to ask him more about that lost deerhound. Had he died, or just disappeared, as Doctor Everson had told me often happened? However, the sergeant's eager expression said he had good news.

'I've just been in and he seems very much better, Mrs McQuinn. Getting along well and taking a great interest in things again. Asked me to pick up his file - he said you would know the one he meant - and to get him some nightshirts; he's sick of wearing hospital gowns.'

Leaving him to make a fuss of Thane, I went upstairs to Jack's wardrobe, took out some garments that I thought would please him and collected the Jacobite file.

Con thanked me and said, 'He's keen to get back on the job. Wants to know all the latest details about that murder enquiry at Duddingston. Especially as there's been a new development. We've traced a relative of the maid Molly Hinton.'

My heart leapt - could this be the bogus maid? He went on, 'She is being very helpful with the enquiries, was in constant correspondence with her aunty, that's how we got her address--'

'Where is she now?'

'Staying at the house next door to Mrs Lawers. With Mrs Dodd. Intends to stay until the funeral.' And gathering up the two parcels for Jack he said, 'I had better go now, sorry to have taken up so much of your time, Mrs McQuinn.' Another pat for Thane. 'But it's been great meeting you, old chap. You take me right back to happy days.' He sighed. 'All gone now, alas. Both my parents - and I was an only lad.'

He had hardly closed the door when I rushed out to the barn, took out my bicycle and headed for Duddingston.

At last, I thought, a vital clue!

Amy Dodd greeted me eagerly. 'You'll never guess ...'

And although I was aware of the details from the sergeant, I wasn't going to spoil her excitement about the new arrival.

'Molly Hinton's kin. Name's Jane - she's out at the moment, won't be long. Just a stroll, a breath of fresh air. Keen on walking ...' And breathlessly she added, 'So if you're not too busy, why don't you just sit down and wait to meet her.'

As those were exactly my intentions, I did so and asked, 'What does she look like?'

Amy seemed surprised by this question. 'She's a lot younger than poor Molly - a niece in fact. And a lot stronger. A quite robust young woman--'

That fitted the description of my attacker and the sound of footsteps in the passage indicated that the robust young woman was about to appear.

Going to the door, Amy ushered me into the parlour. 'I'll be making a cup of tea.'

I held my breath, waiting for this confrontation with the woman who had tried to kill me - as well as some logical excuses or explanations.

She came in and removed her bonnet, Amy hovering ready to introduce us.

We shook hands. This Miss Hinton was of medium height, plump and rosy with curly brown hair, which was enough for me to recognise instantly that this smiling young woman who greeted me bore not the slightest resemblance to the other Miss Hinton.

I was both disappointed and relieved at the same time, since how I would have dealt with the scene I had envisaged was quite beyond me. She took a seat opposite and said, 'Oh, I am so glad to meet you, Mrs McQuinn. I gather from Aunt Molly's letters that poor Mrs Lawers thought highly of your services.'

'You knew of me?' That was surprising.

'Of course; as her only remaining kin, Aunt Molly and I wrote long letters to each other.' She paused and a shadow crossed her face. 'Aunty was a bit of a gossip and she told me everything that went on in the house. Nothing much else to write about, poor soul, seeing she couldn't get about much outside, being lame.'

I remembered the club foot as she added, 'Aunty knew Mrs Lawers trusted you and that you had once helped her--'

The door opened. Amy came in carrying a tray, and Jane went on, 'The police are very interested in her letters to me - after this awful tragedy. Asked to read them.' And biting back tears, she shook her head. 'I hope they get the man who did it, but those letters didn't help, mostly just family things.'

'But she did talk about Mrs Lawers.'

Jane Hinton smiled. 'Oh yes, it was her way of letting off steam, if you know what I mean. Mrs Lawers was good and kind but a bit, well - eccentric. She had many bees in her bonnet ...'

'Did she tell your aunt anything about her background?'

Amy put in, 'I always understood that your aunt and Mary were alone in the world.'

Jane nodded, thought for a moment. 'We gathered that poor Mrs Lawers had only the one relative, a bachelor living up in the Highlands, as she called it. There was another, but Aunty said she didn't talk about him because he wasn't really family. He had been adopted ...'

This was interesting, I thought, a new lead, a new suspect, as she went on, 'He was a distant nephew, and we guessed that reading between the lines, or between the sheets,' she giggled, '- if you ladies will pardon the expression - he was a by-blow from the other side of the Lawers family. Mrs Lawers and her husband were first cousins, you know.'

'Did this nephew ever come to visit her?' I asked.

'Once or twice, I believe, and there was a great to-do according to Aunty, who guessed he was hoping to be left everything in her will. Although "everything" didn't amount to much more than the house - and a package of old papers which she guarded with her life.'

And lost it because of them
, I thought sadly.

Jane's statement had cleared up some of the issues, but I was still no nearer finding out the identity of the bogus Miss Hinton. The only plausible reason was that this unpleasant nephew had a female accomplice.

At the kitchen table I made a note in my logbook of the meeting with Jane Hinton and noted certain vital theories, including the somewhat obvious connection with that missing nephew.

If only John Lawers in Lochandor had been amenable and not met such an unfortunate end, he might have been able to shed some light on this family scandal. Certainly Mrs Lawers believed him to be a bad lot and, according to Molly Hinton, after her money. This doubtless included possession of the legacy resting in my sideboard drawer.

I threw down my pen. So where was this mysterious nephew lurking now? Was he still in Edinburgh?

I now identified him as Amy's 'bullying man', whose threats she had overheard, determined to obtain the legacy. Threats being to no avail, he had finally lost his temper and knocked them to the ground. Two frail old ladies, one of whom was lame, would have put up little resistance. He then smothered them and, arranging the murder scene to look like a faulty gas connection, began a frantic search of the premises.

The only other person who seemed interested in the house, apart from the morbidly curious, was the Frenchman. Not being on speaking terms with Mrs Lawers and being despised by her was hardly a motive for murder. Regarded by everyone as an eccentric and a recluse, he must have hated those policemen prying into his affairs. An unlikely suspect, I felt a sneaking sympathy for him.

But where did I come into all this, what was my role in this scheme of things? It had all happened in a short space of time and when I returned ill from Lochandor the two women were already dead - but for how long had they lain unobserved before Amy Dodd made the grim discovery? There were conceivably times unaccountable for even to the police.

Perhaps rifling through the drawers had revealed that Mrs Lawers had been a client of mine. Had he guessed that she might have entrusted the documents to a lady investigator and, with his victims already dead, engaged his female accomplice to relieve me of the legacy on the train journey?

And from my angle, the most important detail was missing. Not the present whereabouts of the chief suspect, the villainous nephew, but the chilling thought that lurking somewhere in the district was the bogus Miss Hinton.

Wherever she was, she now knew that I still held the vital package. Having uncovered its contents I decided that the safest place of concealment was the secret room until Mr Hayward, the historian, produced the other half of the torn map left by a refugee or a spy in his flight from Solomon's Tower.