Free The Evil That Men Do.(Inspector Faro Mystery No.11) by Alanna Knight

in any way.’
    At the front door, she extended her hand. ‘I can only assure you of one thing. That my husband loved me, and his daughter. A good father and husband, a splendid employer - everyone who met him and knew him will tell you that. I can think of no earthly reason why anyone should wish to murder him. Certainly not in this household.’
    Since the time of Cedric’s death pointed to the fatal dose of arsenic having been administered in Priorsfield, Faro was thank ful that he did not have to interview the servants.
    Walking briskly down Princes Street in the direction of the High Street and the Central Office, he heard rapid footsteps behind him.
    It was Sergeant Danny McQuinn. ‘Been interviewing the sor rowing widow, sir?’
    McQuinn’s words made Faro wince. Words that were all too often used mockingly in the Edinburgh City Police.
    ‘I was in the servants’ hall. Heard you leaving.’
    ‘You didn’t waste much time. Anything to report?’
    McQuinn shook his head. ‘Think she’s guilty?’ he asked eagerly. ‘Tricky situation for you, sir, going to be a relative by marriage and so forth. No doubt you have a reluctance—’
    Faro ceased walking and regarded the young sergeant sternly. ‘I have no reluctance, McQuinn. If she damned well poisoned her husband then she’s as guilty as any common murderer. And she’ll suffer the same fate if I can prove it,’ he added angrily, and proceeded to walk faster than ever.
    ‘Your stepson’s future mother-in-law, Inspector?’ McQuinn’s long stride kept an easy pace with him. ‘Now that would create a sensation in the police, wouldn’t it now?’
    McQuinn laughed, then, perhaps taking pity on Faro’s agon ised expression said: ‘But you don’t really think she’s guilty, do you? Nice lady like that. If it consoles you, no one below stairs would believe it either. They think the world of her. And of the master, as they call him.’
    ‘What else did you find out?’
    McQuinn sighed. ‘Not a lot, sir. On this visit, I thought it tactful to take refuge in a little subterfuge.’
    ‘What kind of subterfuge?’
    ‘Lies, Inspector,’ McQuinn said cheerfully. ‘But like all the best distortions of fact, based on a core of truth. As you know there are always burglaries in this area. Not too difficult to invent a cache of objects found near their basement. Worked a treat. All the maids were suitably impressed. No, there was nothing missing of that description from their establishment’
    Again McQuinn laughed. ‘And I would have been the most surprised man on earth if there had been. However, there wasn’t much point in prolonging the visit seeing it was Priorsfield where their master died.’
    And taking out the handsome silver timepiece which McQuinn proudly boasted was ‘a parting gift from my Glasgow colleagues’, he added: ‘Looks as if I have just enough time to present the robbery story to the servants there. With a bit of luck, I’ll have more vital information from them. In fact, if I look sharpish, the Musselburgh train passes the gates.’
    ‘Papa! Over here.’
    Faro turned and there was Rose clutching her bonnet against the shrill wind blowing up the Waverley Steps, and thereby affording, in her descent from the horse-drawn omnibus, a glimpse of slender ankles.
    One look at McQuinn’s amused face told Faro that he was suitably impressed by this revelation as breathlessly Rose rushed to her father’s side.
    ‘I am meeting Grace.’ And smiling at McQuinn, she held out her hand. ‘Hello.’
    Aren’t you going to introduce me, sir?’ said McQuinn, smiling delightedly.
    ‘Introduce yourself,’ laughed Rose. ‘We are old friends.’
    ‘We are?’ McQuinn, plainly embarrassed, looked quickly at Faro and then to Rose and back again.
    ‘Don’t you remember? You once rescued me from probable death or dishonour when a silly French maid had mislaid me on the way from the Castle. Emily and I never did discover whether we were about to