'None at all. Living here you must know a great deal more than any stranger about likely suspects.'
'True. There aren't many, I can assure you. Take the man Duffy, he's the nearest we get to criminal activities, he's well known as a petty thief, but we never have been able to pin anything big on him, he was too wily for that.'
Faro remembered Dewar's words. 'You think he might have attacked Miss Halliday first - before his accident?'
Yarrow nodded eagerly. 'I'm positive that's the way of it. Miss Halliday's homemade wine was famous. He couldn't resist drink of any kind. Might have sampled a bottle with dire effects. She caught him at it - and we know the rest.'
Faro looked at him. There had been no evidence of empty bottles or glasses in that disturbed room. 'You are seriously considering this theory?'
'Except that we have no record of Duffy ever being violent, or of breaking and entering a private residence. A genial rogue rather than a genuine criminal.'
'What about the gypsies? Have you considered that there might be less genial rogues among them and that their arrival coincided with Miss Halliday's attack and Duffy's death?'
Yarrow shook his head. 'Assault and battery isn't their style at all. Like Duffy, it's more clothes off lines and a hen or two.' After a long pause, he added: 'There is, however, one matter which is perturbing me greatly at the moment. A matter that is well out of our province, but perhaps with your greater experience you could advise me.'
'If I can.'
Again Yarrow hesitated before continuing: 'It concerns the woman Imogen Crowe. Did you know, by any chance, that she has a police record?'
Faro shook his head. This was a surprise - or was it?
'What did she do?'
'Went to gaol for harbouring Fenian terrorists. I've been keeping an eye on Miss Crowe's activities. I don't suppose you remember the case in Scotland. There was a Brendan Crowe - her uncle and guardian, so she claimed - who took a shot at the Queen riding in St James's Park.'
Faro sighed. 'I vaguely remember the case. There have been similar incidents. About twelve years ago, wasn't it?'
Yarrow regarded him admiringly. 'Correct first time, sir. Year after the Prince Consort died and Her Majesty had gained a great deal of public support and sympathy, her being a widow and so forth. Crowe was shot and wounded by us - we cornered him but he managed to escape to his lodgings. Topped himself before he could be arrested -'
'And his niece - Miss Crowe?'
'She was in the house with him, fought the arresting officers tooth and nail. Protested that she knew nothing about his political activities. We didn't believe a word of it, naturally, so she was sentenced as accessory. Lucky for her that he never stood trial or she might have been hanged.'
'She must have been very young at the time,' said Faro.
'Not all that young, sir, eighteen. Old enough to know right from wrong, I'd say.'
It was a situation Faro knew well and one that he deplored. A public outcry means that the police are expected to produce a scapegoat, someone the mob could vent their anger on. An eighteen-year-old girl, terrified and confused, horrified by her guardian's death, would do excellently.
'She was very probably speaking the truth,' he said.
'Once a terrorist, always a terrorist.' Yarrow gave him a hard look. Clearly, he did not share Faro's sentiments. 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,' he added grimly. 'The Bible got it right, you know.'
When Faro said nothing, Yarrow added: 'We put her behind bars for a couple of years.'
'What is she doing in Elrigg then?' asked Faro, already knowing the answer.
'She writes books.'
'Romances?'
Yarrow laughed. 'Hardly, sir. About Women's Rights, the sort of thing females who have been in prison write if they are literate, encouraging other women to believe that they've been ill-treated - all that sort of nonsense. Shouldn't be allowed.'
Faro felt a fleeting compassion for Imogen Crowe, knowing only too well the notorious conditions of women's prisons in London: verminous, ill-treated prisoners, starved and beaten. Unthinkable that she might have been innocent, as she claimed.
Yarrow was regarding him shrewdly. 'When Dewar told me about you, my first thought was: is he here in connection with Imogen Crowe? And your very important client has confirmed that for me. You can rely on my discretion, of course, sir, and you don't need to say whether I’m right or wrong. I'll understand perfectly.'
When Faro smiled, he continued: 'I'd hazard a guess that the authorities believe, with the Prince of Wales being a frequent visitor to the Castle, that there might be a Fenian plot and that she's here to spy for them.'
As he waited for a reply, he scanned Faro's face carefully. 'You think she might be involved in something?'
This was a new aspect of the case which had never occurred to Faro. Could Yarrow be right? There had been no mention of Fenian activities. Surely the Prime Minister would have known and the Edinburgh City Police would have been alerted in the interests of national security even though it was outside their province.
He shook his head. 'It doesn't sound like a Fenian plot to me.'
Yarrow looked disappointed. 'That actor fellow. The one who was gored by one of the wild cattle. He was Irish too, been on the boards in Dublin. Food for thought, eh, sir?' he said.
'It is indeed.'
'I'm about to look in and see how Miss Halliday is. I don't suppose...'
'Yes, of course, I'll come with you.'
As they walked towards the Manse, in the light of Yarrow's information regarding Imogen Crowe, Faro decided to err on the side of caution and keep his observations - and his notes - to himself for the time being.
Chapter 23
Mrs Cairncross's relieved expression as she greeted them at the Manse said that their worst fears had not been realised.
'Yes, she's awake, the poor dear.
