with DC Faro in Princes Street Gardens. A stunner, he whistled, even if she was a widow with a young lad in tow.
Lizzie had missed Jeremy by a mere ten minutes. When he approached the desk, Constable Ryan whispered slyly: ‘Your young lady has just called.’
‘What did she want?’ And the constable made a mental note that Faro looked startled and embarrassed. What on earth could have made Lizzie come to the Central Office? Only some dire emergency would have led her to try to contact him at work, he thought nervously.
Ryan shrugged. ‘Worried about one of her friends who has gone missing. Apparently the lass’s ma is demented about it, but wasn’t well enough to come herself …’
Faro was only half-listening, looking towards the door. Gosse would be arriving any moment and he had no desire for the sergeant to know that his detective constable’s ‘young lady’, as he called her, had been tracking him down at work in the Central Office.
Ryan said: ‘I had her sign an official statement …’
Faro held out a hand, and the constable grinned and shook his head, looking wary, as Faro said impatiently, ‘I will see it gets to the right department.’
He took it into the office he shared with Gosse and began reading Lizzie’s neat handwriting. All this fuss about an unreliable maid, he thought. He hadn’t realised that Ida was such a friend either. Perhaps that was just to help the girl’s frantic mother, typical of Lizzie too, always willing to carry other folks’ burdens as if her own weren’t enough.
The bit about the birthday party did seem strange. Such a devoted daughter, according to her mother – surely she would have let her parents know, spared their anxiety.
Gosse had come in. ‘Any progress on Liberton Brae?’
Faro told him about the visit, the search for Jock Webb. Gosse sighed, clearly disappointed, reluctant to have to admit that it now seemed unlikely that the ex-boxer was the killer they were looking for.
‘There is still the business of that playing card in his pocket, like the one under the woman’s body in Fleshers Close, sir,’ Faro reminded him.
Gosse gave a snort of disbelief. ‘You’re making toomuch of that, Faro. Letting it throw you off the scent. A coincidence, that’s all – disregard it …’
Faro’s silence indicated acceptance. However, he would continue to keep it well in mind until some explanations of how the cards came to be there were forthcoming.
Gosse was saying: ‘From the evidence so far, Webb is still our main suspect. After all, remember what that doctor said and that false address. All a pack of lies,’ he added firmly.
‘Not deliberately, sir,’ said Faro desperately. ‘His memory seemed to be a bit confused.’
Gosse tapped his nose in that familiar gesture. ‘Cunning, Faro, cunning, that’s what it is.’ And he repeated once more his favourite warning. ‘Wait until you’ve been on the force as long as I have. You’ll soon learn there’s no trick they won’t get up to. Have to be sharp and on your guard, all the time – never miss a trick.’
Faro knew there was no point in arguing and said: ‘On my way back I looked in at Fleshers Close, met the woman who appeared when we were leaving. She took the wee girl,’ he reminded him. ‘I asked her if she had heard anything that night before the body was discovered. She mentioned a carriage, some commotion outside in the early hours.’
‘Sounds as if the woman was murdered and dumped there afterwards. You did well, Faro,’ he added with unaccustomed praise. ‘Ryan tells me you have an official report of a missing person for me.’
Faro pointed to the desk. ‘Went missing at the weekend. Family are worried.’
‘Just a couple of days ago, no cause for concern.’ Gossesighed wearily. ‘She’ll turn up. If we tackled every case like this we’d get nothing else done, like tracking down murderers.’ And pointing to papers on the desk, he added: ‘We’ve had plenty
Lizzie had missed Jeremy by a mere ten minutes. When he approached the desk, Constable Ryan whispered slyly: ‘Your young lady has just called.’
‘What did she want?’ And the constable made a mental note that Faro looked startled and embarrassed. What on earth could have made Lizzie come to the Central Office? Only some dire emergency would have led her to try to contact him at work, he thought nervously.
Ryan shrugged. ‘Worried about one of her friends who has gone missing. Apparently the lass’s ma is demented about it, but wasn’t well enough to come herself …’
Faro was only half-listening, looking towards the door. Gosse would be arriving any moment and he had no desire for the sergeant to know that his detective constable’s ‘young lady’, as he called her, had been tracking him down at work in the Central Office.
Ryan said: ‘I had her sign an official statement …’
Faro held out a hand, and the constable grinned and shook his head, looking wary, as Faro said impatiently, ‘I will see it gets to the right department.’
He took it into the office he shared with Gosse and began reading Lizzie’s neat handwriting. All this fuss about an unreliable maid, he thought. He hadn’t realised that Ida was such a friend either. Perhaps that was just to help the girl’s frantic mother, typical of Lizzie too, always willing to carry other folks’ burdens as if her own weren’t enough.
The bit about the birthday party did seem strange. Such a devoted daughter, according to her mother – surely she would have let her parents know, spared their anxiety.
Gosse had come in. ‘Any progress on Liberton Brae?’
Faro told him about the visit, the search for Jock Webb. Gosse sighed, clearly disappointed, reluctant to have to admit that it now seemed unlikely that the ex-boxer was the killer they were looking for.
‘There is still the business of that playing card in his pocket, like the one under the woman’s body in Fleshers Close, sir,’ Faro reminded him.
Gosse gave a snort of disbelief. ‘You’re making toomuch of that, Faro. Letting it throw you off the scent. A coincidence, that’s all – disregard it …’
Faro’s silence indicated acceptance. However, he would continue to keep it well in mind until some explanations of how the cards came to be there were forthcoming.
Gosse was saying: ‘From the evidence so far, Webb is still our main suspect. After all, remember what that doctor said and that false address. All a pack of lies,’ he added firmly.
‘Not deliberately, sir,’ said Faro desperately. ‘His memory seemed to be a bit confused.’
Gosse tapped his nose in that familiar gesture. ‘Cunning, Faro, cunning, that’s what it is.’ And he repeated once more his favourite warning. ‘Wait until you’ve been on the force as long as I have. You’ll soon learn there’s no trick they won’t get up to. Have to be sharp and on your guard, all the time – never miss a trick.’
Faro knew there was no point in arguing and said: ‘On my way back I looked in at Fleshers Close, met the woman who appeared when we were leaving. She took the wee girl,’ he reminded him. ‘I asked her if she had heard anything that night before the body was discovered. She mentioned a carriage, some commotion outside in the early hours.’
‘Sounds as if the woman was murdered and dumped there afterwards. You did well, Faro,’ he added with unaccustomed praise. ‘Ryan tells me you have an official report of a missing person for me.’
Faro pointed to the desk. ‘Went missing at the weekend. Family are worried.’
‘Just a couple of days ago, no cause for concern.’ Gossesighed wearily. ‘She’ll turn up. If we tackled every case like this we’d get nothing else done, like tracking down murderers.’ And pointing to papers on the desk, he added: ‘We’ve had plenty
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