She was silent, her face sorrowful 'I'm glad I was wrong but that Royal Family of yours has a lot to answer for.'
They reached the station as Faro's train steamed into the platform.
'Well - goodbye,' he said, taking her hand.
She brightened suddenly. 'Maybe you will have time to see me when I come to Edinburgh again.'
'Of course. Wait - I'll give you my address.'
'You'll miss your train. I can find you. I'm familiar with police stations, you know.'
The carriage door closed. The guard blew his whistle.
And Faro realised he had a great deal more to say.
As she stood on the platform and raised a hand in farewell, the sun gleamed on her hair lighting her with sudden radiance. With a whoop that was part joy of discovery, part despair, he realised he had not even kissed her yet.
He had a sudden desire to throw open the door, leap back down the platform. And take her in his arms.
He saw her smile, her lips formed the words.
Till Edinburgh!'
The Missing Duchess1876
For Dick and Elizabeth Warfel
And the magic of Cockshell Cottage
East Lothian
Chapter 1
The discovery of a woman's body in the Wizard's House in the West Bow was a sombre end to what had been an unusually convivial evening for Detective Inspector Jeremy Faro.
The Annual Regimental Dinner in Edinburgh Castle had provided everything to his taste; victuals excellent, drams in constant supply, toasts short and witty. But the highlight of the occasion was his reunion after many years with his cousin Leslie Faro Godwin.
The war correspondent was guest of honour. That in itself was something of a novelty where newspapermen were still regarded by the rich and famous with suspicion. Jackals of society, who earned a contemptible living by scandal-mongering and exposing the shortcomings of their betters for the titillation of their readers.
'Gentlemen sometimes wrote for the press, but newsmen were rarely gentlemen.'
Whoever penned that sneering epithet had never encountered Leslie Faro Godwin, thought Faro proudly as he listened to his cousin's talk. Leslie, who was five years his senior, was the veteran of many campaigns. Brave as any soldier, utterly fearless, he had 'lived in the cannon's mouth', as he described it, for twenty years and made light of his imprisonment and torture by the late Emperor Theodore of Abyssinia during the early years of the war which had ended in 1868. Now after eight years of dodging Maori spears in New Zealand and Ashanti spears in Africa, he had recently returned from covering military operations in the Malay Peninsula.
The evening's entertainment left scant opportunity for private conversation between the two men. As they dived for shelter from the heavy rain to await their carriages, Godwin shouted: 'Edinburgh weather never changes, that's for sure.'
'It can be relied upon to be totally unreliable,' said Faro as they shook the moisture off their evening capes.
Godwin regarded him with satisfaction. 'Good to see you after all these years, Jeremy. You're quite a celebrity.' He chuckled. 'Hardly surprising really. You had a very enquiring turn of mind, even as a small child.'
'I appreciate your delicacy. Some called it just plain nosey!'
'Perhaps, but it paid off. You certainly fulfilled your early promise.'
'And so did you to all accounts.'
Faro glanced at his cousin approvingly. Experiences calculated to turn most men's hair white overnight, had not even flecked with grey his thick dark hair and splendid military moustache. Difficult, Faro thought, to label him as past forty.
'It has been a very long time,' said Godwin, as if he read his mind. 'All I recall is that I was an unpleasant little beast, such a bully,' he added apologetically.
If that were so, then Faro realised it had not quelled the hero worship of a lonely four-year-old child for this older cousin. And he still remembered vividly the sad and terrible nightmares that had persisted long after their parting.
Their rare meetings had been memorable occasions in which he first set foot in the awesome splendour of a New Town mansion. There Thora Faro Godwin enjoyed a very different lifestyle to that of her policeman brother Magnus, Jeremy's father.
Thora's progress had been steadily upwards on the social ladder, from the day in Orkney when she met Hammond Godwin, a rising advocate and Member of Parliament. Struck by her beauty, for she had little else to offer, he had married her.
'I remember the last time we met quite clearly,' said Faro sadly. 'It was at my father's funeral.'
'Of course.' Godwin nodded. 'And I felt very grown up and important at being allowed to follow the cortege with the men, for the first time.'
His words brought the scene back vividly. Whatever the circumstances, that last visit to the Godwins had been a farewell gesture. They were never again invited to Charlotte Square. A child did not understand such things, but Jeremy's mother, once a domestic servant herself, recognised and respected, without the least resentment, a social gap too wide to be bridged by anything less that the courtesy of attending a poor relation's funeral.
Mary Faro knew her place. She would not have dreamt of embarrassing her widowed sister-in-law by calling upon her without invitation.
'We must meet again, catch up on the family news,' said Godwin heartily.
'Where are you staying?'
'I've rented a place in the Lawnmarket. What about you? Married? Children?'
'A widower, alas. I have two bairns - girls - staying in Orkney with their grandmother.'
Godwin looked at him. 'Orkney. A long way from Edinburgh, isn't it?'
'Best I could do under the circumstances. A detective's life was bad enough for my poor Lizzie, hardly ever seeing me. Too many hazards for my daughters.'
'Surely there are admirable governesses in Edinburgh?'
Faro laughed. 'Maybe so, but not affordable on my salary. Besides, they have a better life in Orkney. Are you married?'
Godwin smiled sadly. 'I was once - a long time ago.' He sighed, staring ahead as if seeing it bleakly. 'But successful marriage and parenthood require the presence of
