The Bull Slayers: Inspector Faro No 9 (26 page)

Yarrow looked at him in wonder. 'You mean - '

'I mean that I am going to assist a miscarriage of justice. Life has dealt you enough blows, Yarrow, blows that you are paying for dearly. You had a splendid career, an unsullied reputation.
And that's how it will be remembered as far as I'm concerned.'

There was a message from Vince at the Inn. 'Returning to
Edinburgh immediately. Had a telegraph that Balfour is in
hospital. Sorry about the holiday. In haste.'

Yarrow died that night, mourned by all who knew him,
especially by the Dewars who spread the word that while
practising for the archery contest he had mistaken a moving
shadow for one of the wild cattle looming out of the mist
towards him. The arrow misfired and hit Faro a glancing blow.
A sick man, the effort of pulling back the bow had caused a
fatal haemorrhage.

Only Imogen Crowe and Hector Elrigg knew the truth and if Dr Brand had his suspicions then he kept them to himself.

As for Faro, it seemed an unlikely explanation that might
have satisfied Dewar but would have opened up an immediate
inquiry for any detective inspector. The insurance mannie was a
different matter.

Dr Brand signed the death certificate and the Sergeant was
laid to rest. The Metropolitan Police he had served so gallantly
in London most of his life as a police officer sent a
representative to the funeral at Elrigg kirkyard.

No connection was ever hinted at concerning Eric Yarrow's
grave in Branxton. At least, Faro thought, father and son lay
only a few miles apart, to rest for all eternity under the same
windswept skies, the same bird-haunted hills.

Imogen Crowe did not attend Yarrow's funeral. When they met,
Faro expected that she would be announcing her engagement to
Hector Elrigg.

She laughed. 'You are quite wrong: for once your deductions
have played you false, Inspector Faro.'

'You would be surprised how often you are right about that,'
he said bitterly.

'Just be glad you are alive - that we were in the vicinity when
you fell into Yarrow's trap, his lure to get you there. You want
to know why I was there that night. Hector has been courting
me each time I have come to Elrigg. Perhaps this past weekend
I was tempted for a while and then... well,' she looked at him
and quickly looked away again as their eyes met.

'I intended telling him that I couldn't marry him as we drove
back from Branxton. By the time we reached the hillfort the
mist had got worse and I went into the cottage with him. One
thing led to another, I insisted on leaving - and I wanted to walk
- alone.'

She paused, embarrassed. 'Hector said if I insisted on
walking back across the pastureland in heavy mist, he'd better
get his gun. He carried it as a matter of course in heavy mist,
when the cattle come down from the hill. A shot is all they need
to scare them off. I waited for him, I heard you calling. The mist
lifted for just a moment, like a swirling shroud, and I saw
Yarrow, creeping along by the fence. He was heading in your
direction, loading a crossbow.'

They were both silent and then Imogen said: 'When are you
leaving?'

'Tomorrow, I'm going back to Edinburgh. I wouldn't be
much use on a vigorous hill-walking holiday with my arm in a
sling. What about you?'

'I'm going to Ford Castle for a little while, to continue my
book. I'm leaving this afternoon.'

'So am I. By train. May I offer you a lift this time?'

She smiled, remembering. 'That would be most kind. But I
insist on seeing you to the station.' When he began to protest,

'I have to go into Berwick anyway. I need some more writing
materials.'

On that journey they spoke little to each other.

'Will you be returning to Elrigg?' he asked.

She shook her head. 'I think not.'

There was another silence. Handing her
The History of
Civilisation
, he said gently, 'Your book. Tell me about Philip
Gray.'

Turning, she smiled. 'What do you want to know?'

'Was he your lover?'

'You make that sound uncommonly like an accusation,
Inspector Faro,' she said mockingly.

'None of my business,' he shrugged, trying to sound casual but sure she lied, as he saw again the words on the flyleaf. 'To
my dearest Imo, with my love always, Philip G.'

'As a matter of fact,' she said slowly, 'I did love him. He was
my cousin.'

'Your cousin?'

'Yes. His name was Phelan Crowe. Uncle Brendan brought
us up. I went to gaol for him,' she said bitterly. 'And friends
urged Phelan to change his name because of the association, so when he came to London, he became Philip Gray.'

'Was the fact that he died here what brought you to Elrigg in
the first place?'

'Yes. He was more brother than cousin, you know. I had an
idea someone had killed him. I was like Yarrow. I wanted
vengeance but I had no idea how to go about it.'

She was silent, her face sorrowful 'I'm glad I was wrong but
that Royal Family of yours has a lot to answer for.'

They reached the station as Faro's train steamed into the
platform.

'Well - goodbye,' he said, taking her hand.

She brightened suddenly. 'Maybe you will have time to see
me when I come to Edinburgh again.'

'Of course. Wait - I'll give you my address.'

'You'll miss your train. I can find you. I'm familiar with
police stations, you know.'

The carriage door closed. The guard blew his whistle.

And Faro realised he had a great deal more to say.

As she stood on the platform and raised a hand in farewell,
the sun gleamed on her hair lighting her with sudden radiance.
With a whoop that was part joy of discovery, part despair, he
realised he had not even kissed her yet.

He had a sudden desire to throw open the door, leap back
down the platform. And take her in his arms.

He saw her smile, her lips formed the words.

Till Edinburgh!'