Philip Gray had been riding with the Prince. They had quarrelled when the Prince accused him of cheating at cards. Bertie had returned alone. Later, when the actor's horse came in riderless, a search party found him gored to death.
Sir Archie had met his death in suspiciously similar circumstances. Two men dying in identical place and manner, months apart, after quarrels with the same illustrious guest, hinted not merely at coincidence, but at murder.
If only the trail was still warm. Any clues regarding Gray's death by misadventure had vanished beneath last year's fallen autumn leaves and for the last four weeks Sir Archie had rested in his grave.
The Prince had been the last to see both men alive and Faro remembered grimly the letter Her Majesty had shown him.
He wished he had been allowed to make a copy of it for a more careful study of the schoolboy pleading: 'Don't blame me. It wasn't my fault, Mama.'
Her son's innocence was all he had to prove. Murder in this case was not his business.
If only he could leave it at that...
From the valise under his bed, Faro withdrew the bull's horn. Weighing it in his hands, he knew how Sir Archie had been murdered. Almost as if he had been present, a silent witness, he could conjure up the exact picture of Elrigg's last moments.
The horn had been broken off from the pair stolen from the public bar downstairs.
Archery was the local sport and it would not have needed an expert marksman to realise that although it could not be fired with any accuracy from a crossbow, it presented a splendid potential as a murder weapon. By a piece of good fortune his opportunity came when he found his victim semi-conscious and unable to rise from the ground.
Faro frowned. That posed a question. It had to be someone who was in the area at the time and witnessed the accident. It might have been that Sir Archie was still alive when the first of the rescue party arrived, perhaps one of the tenants alerted by Constable Dewar on his way through the village. For a man with a grievance, a unique opportunity of settling an old score.
Once the deed was done, the murderer withdrew the horn and thrust it into the wall, where with luck he hoped it would never be noticed.
With circumstances of Philip Gray's death still fresh in everyone's mind, the possibility of foul play had never occurred. Neither Yarrow nor Dewar had thought to search the copse for evidence, indeed the constable's observation regarding the lack of hoofmarks had been mockingly dismissed.
Faro regarded the bull's horn thoughtfully. The question now was who had reached Sir Archie ahead of Yarrow and Dr Brand.
The only person he could safely eliminate was Lady Elrigg who had remained at the Castle. In a state of shock as befitted the newly widowed.
He knew nothing of any relationship with the young actor but he recalled vividly his first sight of Lady Elrigg and Mark leaving the archery field together. Had there been a sinister quality to their careless laughter?
Although Elrigg would be Mark's some day, did he see himself as a young knight ready to dare all - even murder - for the stepmother who could never be his wife?
Guilty lovers invariably provided the best motive for murder. From Biblical times to the present day that had been the case and Faro did not doubt it would continue until the final curtain descended on mankind. The male rivalry between the old and young was not unique. Just a mile away, that instinct for survival of the species was strong enough to drive young bulls to challenge the king for supremacy of the wild cattle herd.
The question was, did Lady Elrigg respond to Mark? If so, then she had the perfect reason for wishing to be rid of an elderly husband whose charm was limited to his bank account, especially when there was a fortune and a handsome, young and virile man to inherit it. If Poppy Lynne had married Elrigg only for his fortune and with his stepson conspired in his murder, then Faro would feel no sympathy for either of them.
Was she morally responsible for Gray's death too, enticing men to kill for her love? The more facts Faro unearthed, the less he liked the unpleasant picture that his imagination created. One did not have to dig too deeply below the surface to discover that Elrigg was a man who made many enemies. Known as well as unknown - as yet!
Of the known enemies, Hector Elrigg had the best reason of all. Over the years, a festering rage and resentment that he was morally the rightful heir. He also had the best vantage point for murder: witnessing the accident from the hillfort, seeing the Prince ride off and finding his hated uncle helpless, had he seized the chance for revenge?
With the bull's horn?
Faro shook his head. No, it wouldn't do. Hector might have stolen the horns, but it was unlikely he could have secreted them away for such a possibility. If they had been taken from the inn with such a plot in mind, then Sir Archie would have been lured to his death.
And it seemed highly unlikely that the future King of England could have dreamed up anything as subtle as the method used of diverting attention from his equerry's murder. Unless he had been the willing accomplice of Lady Elrigg. Would such a theory fit the Prince's panic-stricken retreat from the copse and his speedy departure from the Castle?
Faro doubted that. Bertie's constant fear of blackmail and his ready supply of mistresses made Poppy Elrigg in no way special or permanent. Merely one more dalliance, that was all.
Dismissing the Prince's role in his equerry's murder, Faro realised that anyone besides the poacher Duffy might have stolen the horns, hidden them away in the copse where they had been
