Read Destroying Angel for Free Online

him?’
    ‘About a week later,’ I admitted reluctantly.
    ‘So that’s it! There now, that’s settled!’ he repeated triumphantly, leading the way upstairs and opening the door of a pleasant but informal guest room in the corridor alongside the family apartments, doubtless hastily prepared by Mrs Robson.
    Setting down my valise, he said, ‘Is that all your luggage?’ I said that I had left a small trunk at Alnwick Station for collection.
    ‘Rider will collect it.’ He laughed. ‘I must confess I am surprised. Ladies usually carry so much baggage. You are to be congratulated, Mrs McQuinn.’ Turning to leave, he said, ‘Tea in my study in, say, half an hour. Come, Roswal,’
    A quick glance in my direction, and Thane followed him. At the door, Hubert turned, smiled: ‘I’m delighted and relieved that we have solved the problem of Roswal’s disappearance so easily. Quite fascinating!’
    Left alone, his theory didn’t fascinate me in the least. Nor did it account for the fact that although Roswal/Thane had been out roaming the hill for a week, his coat was clean and well-groomed, as if he had gone missing only hours before, as I had presumed when he appeared on Arthur’s Seat.
    At that thought, another more alarming possibility occurred to me. That Thane/Roswal had not been trying, as Staines suggested, to find his way back to Abbotsford, but had been tracking down his strange soul mate Wolf Rider, who was at that time with the Wild West Circus in Queen’s Park.
    I still firmly rejected Rider’s belief that the spirit of a murdered man could enter the body of an animal to seek vengeance. If I really believed it to be true, and this story with all its coincidences, then I would have taken to my bicycle and headed for Alnwick Railway Station and the very next train back to Edinburgh.
    And once safe home in Solomon’s Tower, guarded by its ancient walls which had seen so much of Scotland’s history, what then?
    I could not bear to think about it. To continue living there alone, with Jack happy in the arms of his new love, and Thane happy to be back with his true owner. 

CHAPTER FIVE
    Hubert’s study door was open. He sat behind a large, untidy desk littered with papers, some books and a scatter of society photographs of ladies wearing tiaras and diamonds – doubtless his wealthy clients. I learnt later that he had adapted the cellar into a darkroom for his photography.
    Thane trotted over to greet me as Mrs Robson, plump and bustling, arrived with tea, scones and fruit cake. An odd choice for a mid-morning refreshment, I thought, but maybe this excellent fare was standard for visitors who, according to Wolf Rider, were rare.
    It was certainly most welcome. I have a decided weakness for home baking and appreciate others’ efforts in a field of domestic activity in which I am a non-starter. My ten years of marriage to Danny McQuinn were spent in the wilder outposts of Arizona, where food was eaten for survival rather than pleasure. Similarly, as my pantry in Solomon’s Tower is spartan in the extreme, I am ashamed to confess that I become quite exhilarated, not to say downright greedy, at the prospect of anything vaguely appetising.
    Mrs Robson poured the tea and set the plates silently, and curtseyed without making eye contact. When I praised this feast, she blushed and looked pleased in a shy way, while I could not fail to notice her rather challenging glance towardsSir Hubert. It suggested that compliments on culinary or any other domestic skills flowed seldom in her direction.
    I ate alone. Hubert indulged in some more robust refreshment from an assortment of bottles on a side table, leaving me feeling somewhat embarrassed as I proceeded to demolish a couple of scones while yielding not to the temptation of assaulting the slices of cake.
    Hubert, glass in hand, devoted little attention to Thane.
    I was curious. He did not seem in any hurry to reunite the prodigal deerhound with his stepdaughter, and I