To Kill a Queen Read Online Free PDF Page A

countries, here she was demanding that the deaths of two household pets be investigated by Scotland's prime detective.
    He had a sudden desire to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the task. At the same time he was seized by a considerable eagerness that none of his colleagues in Edinburgh's Central Office should ever be made aware that Faro was now searching for dog-killers. Even Royal dog-killers.
    Brown stroked his beard, regarding Faro's silence thoughtfully. 'Too difficult for ye, Inspector?'
    Faro pulled himself together with some effort. 'I shouldn't think so. But I thought it was the Crathie murder you wanted to discuss.'
    Brown opened his mouth, closed it again. 'And why should I want to discuss that in particular?' he demanded suspiciously.
    'I am a detective, sir,' Faro replied trying not to respond with the indignation Brown's questions warranted.
    'That matter is closed. The lass is dead and buried. No one knows who killed her. Person or persons unknown. That was the verdict.'
    He put heavy emphasis on the last word and continued sternly, 'I have been directed here, Inspector, by the Queen to bring to your attention the matter of her twa dogs.'
    'What kind of dogs were they?' Faro asked repressing a sigh.
    'King Charles spaniels. Peaceful brutes, if that's what ye're getting at, Inspector. No' the kind to threaten any puir body. Or take a nip out o' a passing ankle. No' like some,' he said with a dark look at his bare leg on which a closer inspection might have revealed a profusion of ancient scars suspiciously like those of canine encounters.
    Faro nodded. King Charles spaniels. How like Royalty. 'What were their names?' If he had to conduct a murder enquiry presumably Royal dogs merited the same methods as mortal victims.
    Brown thought for a moment. His frown deemed this a somewhat unnecessary question. 'Er, Dash and—Flash. Aye, that's it. Grand at following the guns.'
    Faro considered this statement. And no doubt it was the most likely cause of their unfortunate end. He pictured them growing stout like their Royal mistress, slow-moving. Too slow-moving to get out of the way of exuberant grouse-shooters.
    'Male or female?'
    Brown thought about that too. 'Och, we dinna worry. There's always more men than wummin, ye ken.'
    'I beg your pardon. I meant the dogs, not the guns.'
    'Och, man, you should have said what ye meant,' was the reprimand. 'Dogs or bitches, we call them. These twa were bitches.' And with a defiant stare, 'And no' in heat, if that's what ye're getting at.'
    Faro was disappointed at this deflation of his second logical conclusion for the disappearance of bitches. 'Shot by mistake obviously. Got too close to the birds. Or the sheep,' he added lamely.
    Brown shook his head. 'No,' he said firmly. 'I havena' told the Queen, I didna' want to upset the puir lady but they were shot through the head. And from the powder burns I'd say at very close range.'
    'Where and when were they discovered, Mr Brown?'
    'Twa hundred yards from the Castle. On the path by the river. Night after the Ghillies' Ball.'
    The estate was vast, thought Faro despairingly. The dogs buried and nearly two weeks later, there would be few clues, that was for sure.
    Regarding Faro sternly, Brown continued. 'Look, man, all this isna' of much importance. It's no' where it happened, the Queen wants to know. We all ken that. It is who would deliberately shoot the Queen's favourite dogs.'
    It was at this stage of the conversation that Faro decided that Brown, excellent fellow though he was, would never make a detective. The first question was 'Where and when?' Which almost inevitably led to the second, 'Why?' and lastly, the all-important 'Who?' For in that sequence lay hidden the precise clues to the killer's identity.
    Early in his career Faro had hit upon the almost infallible theory that the criminal inevitably leaves behind from his person some tangible piece of evidence, be it a thread of torn clothing, a footprint, or some small