'Bruce belonged to the minor Stirlingshire aristocracy and inherited enough wealth to indulge a passion for foreign travel. He was something of an enigma, an eccentric we would call him, absorbed by the theory that the Jews in Abyssinia were descendents of King Solomon's misalliance with the Queen of Sheba which had resulted in a son, Prince Menelik.
'His research was meticulous, but my grandfather suspected there was a great deal more in his letters than scholarly research, which Mr Bruce for his own reasons did not wish to have published.'
Faro's interest in the goings-on of Old Testament worthies was somewhat limited and he could only smile politely as Millar went on: 'My grandfather's letters hint that Mr Bruce might have been on the track of a greater treasure.'
Pausing, he regarded Faro quizzically. 'In fact, you might find the Luck o' Lethie particularly interesting -'
Before he could say more, they were interrupted by the arrival of an attractive, vivacious woman with black curls and sparkling eyes. Petite, pretty and breathless, she took Millar's arm.
'Stuart, dear, aren't you going to introduce me?'
'Of course, my dear. My sister -'
Elspeth Stuart Millar, who Faro guessed was nearer his own age than her brother's, took his hand eagerly. 'You are a celebrity, Inspector Faro, and my brother is very naughty to monopolise you.'
Looking at Bruce's book which Millar held, she said: 'Do leave all your boring old theories at home, dear. I'm sure Mr Faro didn't come here to linger in the dust of past times.'
Transferring her hold to Faro's arm, she looked up into his face. A ravishing smile completed the picture of elegance and charm. 'Dear Stuart has a bee in his bonnet about our grandfather. I assure you, he was a most tiresome old man. And desperately mean too -'
Millar gave a good-natured shrug as Faro, with an apologetic glance over his shoulder, allowed himself to be led away to a sofa by the window where Elspeth spread her skirts, and fan in hand, settled herself comfortably.
'There are so many things I'm just dying to ask you, Inspector. I know you won't probably be allowed to tell all. One has to be discreet -' She leaned forward confidentially. 'Do tell me, do you ever meet the dear Queen when she's at Holyrood?'
This was one of the questions most frequently addressed to Faro across dinner tables. His answer was a smile and a vague nod and a refusal to be drawn into further discussion on the subject. He was well acquainted with Her Majesty and the Prime Minister. The people who questioned him would have been very impressed by such information.
But Elspeth Stuart Millar was quite right in her assumption. Such information was classed as 'highly confidential', for several times during his years with the City Police he had been instrumental in averting disaster and royal murders which would have changed for ever the path of British history.
Some day, in a distant future when all the main characters including Faro himself were part of history, no doubt those stories would be told.
'What is she really like, I mean? And er, is there any truth in those shocking stories about her behaviour with John Brown?'
Faro was saved further comment as, turning, he saw Vince rushing towards them, his manner considerably agitated.
'Excuse me, madam.' And leading Faro away, he pointed. 'Over there, Stepfather. By the door -'
Chapter 5
Following Vince's anguished stare, Faro saw Sir Hedley Marsh standing in the doorway, blinking owlishly at the assembled guests.
As if still unable to believe his eyes, Vince murmured: 'The Mad Bart, Stepfather. What on earth is he doing here? Surely the Lethies never invited him!'
Faro shared his stepson's surprise. It was unknown for the aristocratic hermit to be lured out of Solomon's Tower to a social gathering.
'Dear God,' groaned Vince. 'If I'd seen the guest list, I'd have refused -'
But wonders weren't over by any means. As the Lethies went forward to greet him, from the shadows of the hall a young lady emerged.
At first Faro wondered if he was witnessing a manifestation of the family ghost in a dress of a bygone age.
That's the woman I told you about,' Vince murmured. 'I didn't know this was to be fancy dress -'
Even though Faro's experience of female apparel was slight, he could see that the full skirt and decollete neckline were reminiscent of the paintings of the young Queen Victoria on the walls of Holyroodhouse. The white silk of the gown had acquired the yellowish hue of age while the silk roses swirling across its skirts were faded blooms indeed.
As for the wearer, her face was as pale as the gown she wore. She was having considerable difficulties with the revealing neckline and a waistline that flowed rather than fitted. In fact the picture presented was of a garment whose original owner had been of shorter and more robust proportions.
As for the guests, they were too well-bred, too well-clad and in full control of any expressions of astonishment as their host and hostess led a shambling but reasonably clean and tidy Sir Hedley and his lady into the room.
'What on earth can Terence be thinking of? - Oh Lord, he's seen us.'
There was no chance of escape as Sir Hedley rushed forward and, ignoring Faro, eagerly seized Vince's hands.
'My dear young fellow. What a pleasant surprise. If I had known you were to be here we could have shared a carriage. You remember - er - this young lady.'
As Vince bowed over his erstwhile patient's hand, a sudden smile banished her anxious and bewildered expression. 'Of course I remember you - the doctor. You were so kind.'
'And this is Dr Laurie's stepfather, Detective Inspector Faro. My - er - niece - Miss Marsh.'
At
