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one and only.'
    'Childhood sweethearts, Mother. Few of them ever walk down the aisle together.'
    'You needn't laugh. Maybe it's like that in Edinburgh with all those temptations, all those wicked ways,' she said crossly, 'but here in Orkney people are different. Couples meet when they're bairns, often still at the school, and grow up to get married. They love only once, like your poor dear father and me—'
    She was interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the door.
    The newcomer was Dr Francis Balfray. His ashen countenance, his unshaven unkempt appearance, told a poignant tale of sorrow before which Faro's condolences were lost.
    Indeed, Faro doubted whether he heard them at all, they seemed such a totally inadequate drop in that ocean of despair.
    Had he eaten today? Would he like a nice cup of tea?
    Faro listened in amazement to his mother's bright stab at normality, her brave smiles in Balfray's direction. She was doing her best, bless her heart, but what was food and drink to a man at such a time as this?
    Vince arrived and Faro observed the obvious sympathy between the two young men which relieved the awkward situation. His stepson seemed to have hit the exact chord of what was right in these doleful circumstances.
    Watching them, he was glad to see that their postgraduate meeting had turned a polite acquaintance into what looked like the beginnings of close friendship. If tact and compromise were at work, then Vince would make a splendid general practitioner in medicine.
    'I heard voices and thought I might find Captain Gibb and Norma. Arrangements, you know... for ... for this evening.'
    Mary Faro said she hadn't seen them, but that the Captain was probably in the library with his books.
    Francis nodded absently and at the door again remembered the courtesy due to the unexpected guest.
    His smile was forced, his hand unsteady. 'Do make yourself at home, Mr Faro. You are most welcome to Balfray.' And, having fulfilled the ancient obligations of a laird to the stranger under his roof, he gratefully took his departure.
    Vince drank his tea, ate his buttered scones with an alarming speed that would have crippled Faro with a digestive upset for several days. All the while he managed to include an affectionate repartee with his stepgrandmother who so obviously adored him. Then, declining further refreshment, he made his exit, his slight gesture indicating that Faro should follow him.
    Once in the bedroom, Faro said, 'Well?'
    'Not well at all, Stepfather. The test in both cases is positive. Come and look at this.'
    Faro inspected the simple apparatus set up on the desk. The ingenuous but amazingly sensitive device which recovered die arsenic was a metallic mirror on a piece of porcelain.
    Looking over his shoulder, Vince said, There are 3.20 grains of arsenic present.'
    Faro whistled. 'And two grains is a fatal dose, is it not?'
    'Correct. And we have enough here in both samples to cause Thora Balfray's death. She was murdered, Stepfather. There is no longer the least doubt about that.'

Chapter Four
     
    Faro sat down on the bed. 'So you were right. I was hoping you'd be wrong, you know.'
    'So was I.'
    'There's no doubt whatsoever?'
    'None at all. Thora Balfray was poisoned.'
    'Where do we go from here?'
    'Suppose you tell me. You're the policeman.'
    Faro looked at him sharply.
    'I'm sorry, Stepfather, but at this moment I wish to God I'd never heard of the Marsh Test and that after I'd signed the death certificate I'd been able to persuade my conscience that Thora died of natural causes.'
    Beating his fists upon the bedpost in a furious gesture, he swung round to face his stepfather. 'Why the hell didn't I leave well alone? Answer me that if you can.'
    'Because it wasn't well, lad. Because someone murdered Thora Balfray and, if you hadn't done something about it, your conscience would have plagued you for the rest of your life. Besides, you owe it to Francis.'
    Vince laughed bitterly. 'Oh yes, and he is going to love