Free Deadly Beloved by Alanna Knight Page A

could imagine the scene but one vital question still remained unanswered. What did he do with the body? All he had to do was open the compartment door and push body, cloak and knife out on to the railway line. Otherwise Wilson would have found the body when he was collecting his tickets again after Longniddry and the hue and cry would have been raised immediately.
    The snow lay deep on both sides of the line covering the banks. Here and there a shrub or hedgerow was visible, but most of the landscape was hidden under a heavy blanket of snow.
    There was another possible explanation for the still missing body. Heavier than the cloak, had it rolled, gathered momentum as it slid down an embankment? Was it still lying entombed in a huge unmelted snowball somewhere along the line?
    As they approached Longniddry Station, a biting wind and acrid smoke blew into Faro's face as he leaned out of the window in search of places where a falling body might have lodged. There were none immediately visible and when the platform was in sight he beheld a band of uniformed policemen carefully searching the area surrounding the railway line.
    As the train slowed down, they recognised him and shouted, "Nothing so far, sir. Nothing suspicious. No bloodstained corpse, but we keep hoping."
    Faro lingered, watching the station master collecting tickets. He seemed to know most of the passengers well enough to pass the time of day and greet them by name.
    That was hopeful. This was a small station and the people who used it were probably regulars working in Edinburgh or Musselburgh. A stranger, particularly one wearing bloodstained clothes, would surely be remarked upon.
    Station Master Andrews was more than willing to chat about this sensational occurrence which had put Longniddry on the map. But Faro was in for a disappointment to his hopes that he might remember a stranger carrying a large brown paper parcel.
    "Two weeks, sir." The man rubbed his forehead. "That's rather a long time ago. This train's always busy — dinner time and a lot of coming and going between the local stations."
    To Faro's question, he shook his head.
    "I think I would have noticed any stranger among the passengers, sir. I have a good memory for faces and it's mostly locals travelling on that train. Always a lot of our ladies with their maids returning from shopping expeditions in Edinburgh."
    He looked at Faro curiously. "Word certainly does get around fast. Inspector. There was this reporter from the Scotsman wanting to know all the details ..."
    Faro groaned. This was the worst possible news. He must try to stop this sensational piece of information being made public, although at the moment there was nothing the press could do to tie it in with the missing Mabel Kellar. As far as everyone but the few Central Office officials knew, Mrs Kellar was still on holiday with her sister at North Berwick. He just hoped that Ina and Mrs Flynn were not avid newspaper readers.
    Trying to sound more casual than he felt, he said, "He was off his mark very quickly, seeing that the cloak has just been discovered."
    "Yes, Inspector. It was a lucky day for him. He had been down here covering a society wedding in one of the big houses and was waiting for the Edinburgh train when Brown comes rushing down the track carrying the bundle and shouting. 'Look at this. I reckon there's been a murder done.' Those were his exact words and the reporter was on to it like a shot."
    "Where can I find Brown?"
    "There he is now. Over there, crossing the line, just back from his dinner."
    Brown was young and eager. Yes, he found the parcel and took the liberty of unwrapping it, just in case. "I could see straight away that there'd been foul play." He paused looking at Faro's expressionless face. "Been a murder, hasn't there, sir?"
    When Faro said cautiously, "Not necessarily," Brown continued, "But it's suspicious, wouldn't you say, sir? All that blood — and a carving knife."
    "But there's no body so far, so