Chapter 2
Idreamed about that room at Fleshmarket Close, the coldness of my friend’s cheek beneath my hand. And the unexpected kindness of a stranger.
When I wakened, it took a moment to remember where I was, as the grey light of morning slipped around the edges of the curtains covering the window.
Then a moment longer to gather my thoughts as I reached for the gown I had worn the day before and dressed. I washed my face and braided my hair. Then crossed the room and opened the door onto the parlour of the flat.
“Here ye are, Miss Montgomery. Good mornin’ to ye. I have coffee, hot from the stove. Or tea if ye prefer...? I usually make both.”
“Coffee, thank you.”
“Then join me at the table. I have biscuits and sliced ham for breakfast.”
My stomach growled when I would have told her there was no need. In truth, the last meal I’d had was at the cafe at a rail station on the trip from London.
“As I thought. Ye need food to begin the day. Now, sit at the table and I will bring some for the both of us.”
I remembered little about the place from the night before when I accompanied Inspector Landry to Elizabeth Cheney’s flat.
Now I noticed that the parlour was not lavishly, but comfortably, furnished with two overstuffed chairs, a writing desk with books, and a carpet on the wood floor.
There was a small vase of flowers on the dining table, and Elizabeth Cheney served the coffee in a ceramic pot with two ceramic cups with pink flowers. As she passed one cup to me, she bumped the vase. I steadied it.
She stared at me for a moment, then poured coffee for the both of us with a thoughtful expression.
“Did ye sleep well enough?” she asked.
I nodded. “It was very kind of Inspector Landry to make the arrangement.”
“Aye, kind fer certain. He’s a good man, the best I could ask for.”
That seemed an odd way of describing the inspector.
“Have you known him long?” I inquired.
She laughed. “Since he was a bairn and I looked after him. Now he looks after me since my husband passed.”
She retrieved a plate of warm biscuits and set them on the table with butter and jam.
“He’s me brother. A bit of a knothead at times, but I wouldna trade him if I could. He found this flat for me near enough to his own, and comes by to check on me regular, although I think it’s more for the biscuits. He claims the ones Maggie makes—that’s his wife—are not as good.”
Her brother? He had failed to mention that. Yet, I did notice a faint resemblance in the smile on her face.
“And that’s just like him, keeps things to himself. I suppose that is part of the manner of a police inspector. It was the same with my Seamus.”
“He was with the police as well?”
She nodded. “Aye, four years now he’s been gone. Got caught in a bad situation during an investigation. Will has looked after me ever since, although there is Seamus’s pension, so that I was not put out on the street or forced to live with Will. Och, that would not have gone well.
“Not that I dinna like Maggie. It’s just that we both have our ways, and this is best.”
Elizabeth was friendly and not at all put off by a stranger in her home.
“I occasionally purchase a share or two of railroad stock when I have extra. And I make a few coins when Will brings a guest, unless it’s a child.
Not then. It’s a way I can help. We never had children, so it’s my way of helping when I can, until Will finds a place more permanent.
Not the foundling homes or the Foundling Hospital if he can find some other place among those he knows.
“There have been a handful over the years when they’re grown that have come back to thank him.”
“Does he have children of his own?” I inquired as the coffee warmed me.
Her expression changed. “Not as now. They had a daughter, but she passed some time ago. There were no other children.” She gave me a thoughtful look.
“She would have been about yer age now.”
My age. I had no way of knowing my real age, or birthday. After I went to London and became the ward of Mikaela Forsythe, she insisted that we celebrate on Boxing Day, the first day of January. A new year, a new beginning, as she called it.
“He did not mention it.”
She smiled. “Nor would he. As I said, keeps things to himself, he does. Not like meself. I put things right out there, makes no sense to keep things inside even if I could. Especially painful things.”
I was curious about something she said the night before when I first arrived.
“‘Oidhche mhath’,” I repeated what she had said the night before. Unexpected?
She looked at me with surprise. “Ye know the Scots. Unusual, considerin’ there are those who want to do away with the old ways, including the old language.”
“I lived here before I went to London.”
“That explains it. It’s good to hold onto the old ways. It helps to know who we are.”
I looked up to find her watching me. Not unkindly but with obvious curiosity.
I thanked her for the coffee and biscuits.
“There is someone I need to meet with.” I thought of Sir McQuarrie. Even though the situation had changed, I needed to meet with him as I had no intention of leaving Edinburgh until I had found the person who killed Dory.
“If you will let me know what I owe for the night?”
That smile again that she shared with her brother.
“It’s my understanding that ye might want to remain for some time. Ye are welcome to stay here...if it suits ye. We can discuss the rest of it later.”
I had not expected that. Still, it answered the question where I might stay while I remained in Edinburgh.
I assured her that I had funds I could pay from an arrangement I had made with the bank before leaving London, then thanked her.
“Dinna fash,” she replied.
I thanked her again, then turned toward room to collect my coat and travel bag. I paused as I passed the desk in the parlour.
A deck of Tarot cards was there, laid out in a familiar way from Lady Montgomery’s weekly gatherings with her ladies at Sussex Square.
“Such fun,” she had told me. “You should have seen Constance Ralston’s reaction to a pattern that she selected from the deck when Madame Celene was last here. Most amusing in what it revealed. Of course, Constance denied everything.”
An amusement, she called it.
“Are you familiar with Tarot?” Elizabeth asked, as she obviously saw the direction of my curiosity.
“I know of it,” I replied.
There were also those on the street who offered readings for a penny, as well as Madame Celene, who provided private readings for clients, such as Lady Montgomery, for entertainment purposes at parties or in private settings.
“It can be most enlightening,” Elizabeth commented, then added, “If one believes in such things.”
I did not. There was very little I did believe in. The past had taught me that.
“I don’t know when I will return,” I said as I reached the room. “I do not want to trouble you.”
“It is no trouble, my dear. However, Mr. Lyle, the building manager will be able to let you in if you return when I’m gone. I will let him know that you will be here for a while. Dinna pay any attention to his manner. His bark is worse than his bite.”
I thanked her once more then retrieved my coat and travel bag.
I was able to find a driver at the High Street and gave him the location of Sir McQuarrie’s office at Charlotte Square in the New Town.
I had made arrangements to meet with Sir McQuarrie before leaving London.
The six-story grey stone building at Charlotte Square filled one side of the square, with a half-dozen entrances along the stone walkway, labelled with brass nameplates for each company or firm.
I found the office for the attorney and gave the clerk in the front office my name.
“He has been expecting you, Miss Montgomery.” He asked me to wait while he announced my arrival.
He quickly returned, escorting me to Sir McQuarrie’s office.
We had not met before, but he was a man of some reputation, considering the reaction of Inspection Landry.
Sir McQuarrie rose from behind his desk as the clerk announced my arrival.
“A dreadful situation, the loss of an acquaintance.”
He was obviously well informed. He smiled not unkindly.
“I have spoken with Inspector Landry of the police. I am sorry that you have been put through such an ordeal.”
Sir Alastair was short in stature, but with a commanding presence, as Lady Montgomery would have described him, obviously quite successful in his profession with the framed certificates and letters on the wall behind him.
He rounded the desk in greeting, greying side-whiskers framing the frown on his mouth and sharp blue eyes that I was certain missed nothing.
“You were not harmed?”
I assured him that I was not.
“Something to be grateful for.” He motioned to the clerk who had escorted me into his office.
“Please have Mrs. Merryweather bring coffee. Or tea?” he said with a look at me.
I assured him that coffee was fine. He motioned to the wing-back chair that sat before his desk as he leaned back against the desk edge.
“I will contact Sir Laughton and assure him that you are safely arrived,” he informed me as a woman, presumably Mrs. Merryweather, arrived with coffee.
She was a small wisp of a woman, with greying hair tucked neatly at the back of her head and a crisp manner as she set the tray with the coffee and cups on Sir Alastair’s desk. She poured two cups of coffee, then turned to leave.
“Yer to ring if ye wish more coffee.” She indicated a button near the telephone on one side of Sir McQuarrie’s desk. “And dinna let him intimidate ye.”
“Ye may go now, Mrs. ‘M,’” he told her. “And do close the door after, if ye please.”
He waited until the door closed behind her.
“Mrs. Merryweather can be most aggravating at times,” then a smile. “I do not know what we would do without her.” He returned to his chair at the desk.
“So verra sad about yer friend. Ye’ll no doubt be wantin’ to return to London now,” he said over his own cup, then set it aside.
“I can have the arrangements made for ye.”
I set my cup aside as well.
“That won’t be necessary. I will be remaining in Edinburgh for a while yet.”