'Another murder? Harder to explain away than Sir Archie.'
'How did you know?'
'I didn't. Not until I saw Eric's portrait. He was the image of you. Your eyes looked out at me. And then there was his grave in Branxton kirkyard. But most of all were your own words, first on the scene of the crime...'
Yarrow laughed soundlessly. 'You begin with what is certain, what you are sure of, then you build on to it.'
'The first lesson in detection, I see you still remember that,' said Faro. 'My only certainty was that the killer had to be first on the scene. And after I'd ruled out the Prince of Wales, I was left with only one man it could be - yourself.'
Faro turned round painfully and touched the sleeve of Yarrow's uniform jacket hanging over a chair. 'See, there's a button missing.'
'I know. I must have lost it.'
'And I found it. Clutched in Duffy's hand when I pulled him out of the water. The final piece of evidence, of course, was your name on the gravestone in Branxton.'
'And enough to hang me,' said Yarrow slowly.
Faro looked at him. 'Was it revenge? A eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?'
'Not only for my lad's death, shot by that drunken devil, but for my wife and the end of my marriage. Eric's death killed her as surely as if the bullet had struck her heart.'
He sighed, staring out of the window. 'She was never strong after he was born and he was her whole life. After he died I watched her creep steadily away from me month by month, then week by week, then each day, each hour.'
Breathless again, he paused. 'I wanted to die too when I was shot up in the Covent Garden massacre. I was pretty smashed up and they didn't expect me to survive. I was a long time in limbo, at the gates of death and to be honest I was very disappointed when they told me I would live.
'But I knew my career, my glorious future they had talked about, was over. I'd never be fast on my feet again. I hated London after that and when I got the chance to come to Elrigg, it seemed that fate had taken a hand. I'm not a superstitious man, I don't believe in ghosts, but Eric started to haunt me. I dreamed of him constantly - I was obsessed, convinced that he wanted me to avenge him.
'As for Sir Archie, I was sure he'd see it on my face whenever we met - arrogant bastard that he was and me so servile: yes, sir, no, sir! But there were never any opportunities of getting him alone. I've waited years, sometimes I was with him alone but, without using my bare fists, I couldn't kill him.
'The first real opportunity came when we were riding escort to the Prince of Wales. We saw them disappear towards the copse and then the Prince left alone. You know the rest, Dewar set off for the village and I went to - help - Elrigg. He was unconscious and I knew I'd never get such a chance again. But what to use for a weapon? And then I remembered that the day before I'd found Bowden's horns in a ditch and shoved them in my saddle bag. Evidence to nail Duffy, I thought.'
He smiled wanly. 'Now it seemed like fate, for I held in my hands a weapon to avenge my lad and make it look like an accident. I broke one of the horns off, didn't even check to see that he was still breathing in case he opened his eyes - just thrust it - hard - with both hands - into his back. It went in easily, like a stiletto. I don't know where I found the strength but he had a soft fatty body,' he added in a tone of disgust.
'I thought he groaned, but even if he wasn't dead then he had never seen my face. I hid the horn in the stone wall - '
'Where I found it.'
Yarrow smiled wearily. 'I might have guessed. And that it wouldn't take long for you to guess the rest. I hadn't bargained on Duffy either. He'd been lurking around and knew there was never a bull in sight.'
'Blackmail.'
'Yes. I paid him a few pounds but it wasn't enough and then he said he'd tell you - the insurance mannie - what he knew. I overheard him asking you, leaving messages with Bowden and knew I had to do something about it - quick. So I arranged to meet him, promising him more money for his silence. Had a bottle with me - whisky this time. As we talked he was already drunk - and very abusive when he realised I didn't have a hundred pounds on me.
'He hit me. We both fell and struggled on the ground. I pushed his face down into the water - held him till he was dead. Then I poured the rest of the whisky over him.'
'What about Miss Halliday?'
Feebly he held up his hands. 'Not guilty. I never attacked her. I liked the woman, respected her. I'd called to collect the quarantine papers. I'd never been inside her house before. She gave me some tea, and as I sat there I saw Eric's face smiling at me.'
And Faro remembered that the abandoned cup of tea and Eric's likeness to Yarrow had helped him guess the killer's identity.
'That painting, dear God, like he was trying to speak to me. Such a likeness, tears came into my eyes. I had to have it. So I went back late that night intending to steal it. I was clumsy in my eagerness, knocked an ornament down in the dark. It smashed, she heard the noise, came downstairs, tripped and fell headlong. She
