Deadly Beloved by Alanna Knight Page B

fluid. He inspected the upholstery with its barely visible stains. There was no way of identifying the faint yellow marks now or testing out the new experiments Vince had told him about, of distinguishing human and animal blood.
    Faro hailed a passing cab near the Grange. Unless Dr Kellar could produce a convincing alibi, things looked black indeed for him and as Faro was set down outside Surgeons Hall, he had a feeling they weren't going to get any brighter for a very long time.
    He did not relish the forthcoming interview. Kellar had deliberately misled them regarding his presence at a lecture on the morning his wife disappeared. If that was a sign of guilt, then he must be in a greater panic than they had realised.
    There was also the matter of the bloodstained carriage. If this had been the result of Kellar's grisly murder of his wife, most likely on the way to North Berwick, then he was behaving in a remarkably naive fashion by drawing attention to it.
    From his own experience with police procedure, Kellar must be perfectly aware that in a murder case, the victim's spouse is always the first, and most likely, suspect. Faro could only make the excuse of Kellar's notorious vanity, his assumption that his own connection with the Edinburgh City Police, a knighthood in the offing, rendered him beyond suspicion.

Chapter 9
     
    Faro's arrival coincided with Kellar emerging from the dissecting room, whose odours heavily disguised with antiseptic still clung to him, an unpleasant miasma. He did not look overjoyed at Faro's presence and walked briskly down the corridor. Without lessening his pace, he looked over his shoulder, demanded brusquely, "Well, and what do you want?"
    Faro groaned inwardly. This was hardly a promising start. "Only a few facts to check, sir." He tried in vain to sound nonchalant. "If you will be so good as to spare me the time."
    "Very well," said Kellar. "Follow me. You know the way." Ushered into the miserable room that served as office, Faro was not invited to be seated, an indication, he gathered, that this interview was unwelcome and was not to be prolonged a moment longer than necessary.
    "What is it now. Inspector?" Kellar asked impatiently. "As you can see, I'm a busy man."
    "I went to your house earlier today hoping to see you there."
    Kellar smiled grimly, seeing through this flimsy excuse. "I am always at Surgeons Hall during the working week at this hour. You should know that, Inspector."
    "But not on Mondays apparently," Faro reminded him.
    "Mondays?" As if a new thought struck him, Kellar said, "Mondays — no, as a matter of fact, I'm not."
    "So you weren't lecturing at all on the day you took your wife to the station to catch the North Berwick train." Kellar gave an impatient shrug. "No. Obviously I wasn't."
    "Then why, sir, did you indicate — "
    Kellar interrupted with an impatient gesture. "Indicate? I indicated nothing. It was mere aberration, that's all. I forgot completely what day of the week it was."
    Faro tried not to look as disbelieving as he felt. Strange that a husband should forget the day of the week that his wife disappeared. One would imagine such information would be indelibly fixed.
    "You let your wife believe that you were going to be late for a lecture."
    Kellar's head jerked up sharply. "How do you know what I let my wife believe, Faro?"
    "You were overheard outside your front door."
    "Overheard? By domestics, I suppose." Kellar raised his eyes heavenward in a despairing gesture. "Wasting time spying on their betters when they should be going about their business, which is what we pay them for. This is outrageous, Inspector."
    Faro ignored Kellar's growing anger. "Perhaps you could remember where you spent the afternoon of Monday, 16th January. That would be of considerable help."
    "Help? Help, in what way?" Kellar sounded surprised and then seeing Faro's sternly guarded expression, he laughed softly. "Oh, I see. I see. So what do you want me to tell you?"
    "Anything