Himself.
Taking Sir Terence aside, he explained that he must return to Edinburgh immediately and set some enquiries in motion. He refrained from adding what was surely uppermost in all their minds. A missing royal duchess who was also the beloved goddaughter of the Queen and the late Prince Consort.
Terence Lethie's heavy sigh indicated that he knew exactly what was at stake. 'Our carriage is at your disposal, sir.'
Faro glanced towards Miss Fortescue. 'A photograph - or a picture - it would help considerably, sir -'
‘I’m not sure that we have one.' He nodded towards the anxious group still surrounding Miss Fortescue. 'She will no doubt be able to describe her mistress - a little later, perhaps, when the shock wears off and she is more composed.'
Vince followed him to the door: 'Perhaps I should stay, Stepfather.'
'I think that would be an excellent idea, lad.'
Faro left with some regret. He had been looking forward to a little hard-earned and agreeable relaxation. He would miss tomorrow's tour of the gardens, a chance to see the Crusader's Tomb in the ruined priory and more important, as he was later to discover, the Luck o' Lethie.
As he prepared to depart he had an ominous feeling of disaster, that too much valuable time had already been lost. Twenty-four hours was difficult enough, but ten days...
If only Miss Fortescue's unfortunate amnesia has cleared up a little earlier.
As the carriage drove towards Edinburgh, he had ample opportunity to brood upon what had happened to the coachman and more crucially the present whereabouts of the Grand Duchess of Luxoria.
Chapter 6
At Sheridan Place, a message from Superintendent Mcintosh awaited Faro. He was to proceed to the Central Office immediately. Realising that it must be important for the Superintendent to interrupt his weekend, Faro found him as he expected in no good mood.
'You're wanted at Holyrood, straightaway. The usual Royal-visit security formula.'
Faro knew a moment's joy. 'I take it that the Grand Duchess of Luxoria has arrived.'
'Who?' Mcintosh looked at him blankly. 'I know nothing about any Grand Duchess. Only that the PM wants a word.' And Faro went to the door, 'Try not to irritate him, Faro. It doesn't do any of us - particularly yourself - any good, you know.'
Of course he would be patient, Faro decided, clinging to the hope that he had once again allowed his imagination to indulge in morbid fancies. But even his optimism began to fade, faced with the long gallery, its inquisitorial length deliberately chosen to intimidate all but the boldest and most determined. At its far end, Mr Gladstone was pacing the carpet, his already thin-lipped mouth a fast disappearing line across a grimly set countenance.
At Faro's approach, he regarded his watch in some irritation. A stickler for punctuality on all occasions, he grumbled: 'You took your time getting here, Faro.'
'I came from the office immediately, sir.' Faro was damned if he'd apologise.
The watch snapped shut. 'You were summoned yesterday, Inspector.'
Faro was at a loss for an appropriate response. 'Yesterday-was Saturday, sir. I was absent from Edinburgh. In fact, I have already had to cut short my weekend with friends.'
He could have said a great deal more on that subject but Gladstone's impatient gesture dismissed such inconvenience as of no importance.
'Friends, indeed?' he snorted. 'Her Majesty's wishes come first, you've been on the job long enough to know that, Faro,' he added severely, his tone indicating that if Faro wasn't fully aware of the fact, then he might soon be seeking other employment.
It had the desired effect. Faro bit back an angry response and said calmly, 'Am I to presume that the arrival of the Grand Duchess of Luxoria is imminent?'
The Prime Minister looked startled. 'So you aware that she is expected?' Suddenly he thumped his fists together. 'She has not yet put in an appearance. Nor has her arrival been signalled. And that is precisely why you have been summoned, Inspector. Her Majesty is about to leave Balmoral to meet her god-daughter - here. So where the devil is she? Answer me that.'
'I would suggest that she is perhaps making a private visit -to friends -'
'Friends, eh?' The Prime Minister nodded sagely. 'From what I have heard of the lady's unfortunate domestic circumstances, there is no doubt a gentlemen involved?' His head inclined to one side, he regarded Faro, extremely pleased with himself for this sharp piece of observation.
'We will, of course, conduct the usual enquiries,' Faro said sternly.
'With the utmost discretion, if you please.'
'Naturally, sir. Now if you will excuse me.'
And giving Mr Gladstone no chance of further questioning, Faro beat a hasty retreat.
Back at the Central Office, Faro thought rapidly. The Superintendent was no fool. He would have to be told and sooner rather than later about the distraught Miss Forstescue.
'It appears that her lady-in-waiting has arrived at Lethie Castle,' he ended the account of his interview with the Prime Minister. 'Her mistress was making a visit there en route to Edinburgh.'
'And so - her present whereabouts?'
'They don't know - precisely. But they expect her arrival imminently,' he ended smoothly, rather proud of this piece of invention, but the Superintendent roared like a wounded lion.
'You realise what this means, Faro. We've mislaid a member of the Royal Family. This could be the end of all our careers. We'll be lucky if we don't see the inside of the Tower. Dear God, what will Her Majesty say to this? You'll have to tell her.' His laugh was without mirth. 'And I don't envy you that.'
'There could be a quite innocent explanation.'
'Could there indeed?'
'The Prime Minister hinted at a secret assignation of a romantic nature.'
'Ah!' McIntosh sighed profoundly. 'Rumour has it that the marriage is fairly unsound. Presumably he has found consolation elsewhere. The PM would of course know about that from information within royal circles.'
Faro wondered why it had not occurred to the
