Murder by Appointment: Inspector Faro No.10

Murder by Appointment: Inspector Faro No.10 by Alanna Knight

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Authors: Alanna Knight
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arrest, Andy began to tremble, and yelled, 'Ma!'
    Muttering reassuringly, Faro did not relinquish his grip on the lad's arm. Andy was bundled inside the police carriage beside Constable Thomas, his nervousness increased at being thus anchored between guardians of the law.
    'What was this lady like?' Faro asked, as the carriage trundled through the streets.
    'Oh, just an old lady, ye ken.'
    'How old would you say?' asked Faro patiently.
    'Older than you. Grey hair. No' frae Edinburgh, either.'
    And gazing steadily out of the window, he pointed. 'Over there. That's it.'
    The tiny cottage of recent vintage was deserted, its windows blackened ominously.
    There had been a fire and the smell of smoke hung unpleasantly upon the air.
    As they stepped down from the carriage, Andy was not disposed to linger. With one panic-stricken glance at the scene he took to his heels and raced along the road back towards the city.
    And what was strangest of all about his precipitous departure was his neglect to wait for any reward for his services.
    The fire had been recent enough for their presence to attract an immediate investigation by next-door neighbours and two small elderly ladies of almost identical appearance hurried towards them. Obviously sisters, white-haired, with spectacles over noses twitching with curiosity, hands fluttering in dismay and eyes wide and eager. Their emergence struck Faro with a striking resemblance to a couple of squirrels from the nearby woodland.
    'It happened two nights ago—' said the first.
    'No one was hurt, Mary,' said sister number two. 'That's right, sir. The lady who lived there—'
    'Who lives there, Annie,' sister Mary corrected her.
    'A Miss McNair—'
    'They'll need to trace her, to give her the news.'
    'What a shock for the poor soul.'
    A shock for the searchers too, thought Faro, when they discovered she was dead, and in all probability murdered.
    'How did the fire start?' he asked.
    Two heads shook in unison.
    'Miss McNair was a very careful lady.'
    'Oh, she was, indeed. Not the kind Annie and I would associate with neglecting fires.'
    'But sparks do come out, Mary. These chimneys are bad on downdraughts. Remember we had our fireside rug burnt.'
    'And if we hadn't been in the room, goodness knows. Our cottage might have gone up in smoke many a time.'
    'That's why we are always particularly careful with the fireguard, isn't it Mary—'
    'We are from the police, madam. And this is Detective Inspector Faro,' said Constable Thomas, interrupting what showed signs of becoming an interminable flood of reminiscences.
    'We are looking for Miss McNair in connection with one of her relatives recently deceased,' said Faro.
    Relief flooded the two upturned faces. Police obviously suggested criminal activities in this gentle neighbourhood.
    If only he and Thomas could investigate without attracting undue speculation, but the two sisters watched them relentlessly as Faro tried the front door.
    It was locked. As he was wondering how to broach the subject of a spare key, sister Mary approached and said, 'The back door is open. The lock was broken when Miss McNair moved in and she's never had it repaired.'
    'Besides no one here ever locks their back doors, Mary.' And turning to Faro, Annie continued, 'She's only been here a short while and keeps herself to herself. Doesn't she?' she added to her sister.
    As did Mr Glen, thought Faro grimly, with no longer any doubts that Lachlan Brown's 'Davy Mac-something' would also prove to be a McNair.
    Picking their way through the two rooms, they saw that although the interior of the kitchen had been seriously damaged, its contents had survived the conflagration as a depressing array of blistered furniture and scorched rags of curtains.
    'Look over here, sir,' said Thomas.
    The fireplace showed evidence of papers having been burnt in the grate. Faro regarded it thoughtfully. One spark would have been sufficient to ignite the worn rug and spread fire through the house.
    That

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