Edward Kane, Advocate in The Supernal Sisters. Chapter 14: 'That Was a Different Lazarus'

The old Cyclops frowned as he pressed his nose against the papers.

Back in the Sheriff Court, Edward Kane was on his feet: ‘Yes, my lord. Beyond peradventure. The body of Alexander Humbie was mistaken for another deceased gentleman of very similar build and – after their visit to the Anatomy Rooms of Edinburgh University – they were buried in the wrong graves.’

‘And how do you know that, Mr Kane?’

Edward Kane. Illustration: Lesley-Anne Barnes Macfarlane

‘I have it on very good authority.’

Kane did not tell the learned Sheriff that his ‘very good authority’ was, in fact, a Cockney manservant sitting under a table with two women sharing a bottle of rum.

Sheriff Meikle nodded: ‘So where exactly is the late Mr Humbie resting now?’

Kane read from a piece of paper: ‘In error, my lord, he appears to have been buried in the graveyard in St Mark’s Church.’

The Cyclops held the papers close to his nose: ‘And where, precisely, is that?’

‘It is in Portobello, my lord.’

The Sheriff sat back: ‘Sounds like a very pleasant situation, Mr Kane. So close to the sea – from which, I note, the late Mr Humbie made his fortune. Are the family certain that they require to disturb his remains? I confess that I am not yet convinced…’

The Advocate cut across the Sheriff. ‘Apologies, my lord – Mr Alexander Humbie, one of the richest men in Scotland, a gentleman, is, at present, buried in a pauper’s grave,’

The Cyclops nodded his concession and sighed. He took the monocle from his eye and began to tap it on the bench before him. Then, as if to himself: ‘There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day…’

Kane picked it up immediately: ‘And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores…’

Sheriff Meikle smiled: ‘You know your Bible, Mr Kane. Very impressive.’

Kane smiled in return: ‘Luke, Chapter 16. My father was a clergyman, my lord. I could possibly recite from memory a number of sermons on the subject.’

At this point, old Sheriff Meikle began to scan the galley before him: ‘And who is that sir?’

Kane looked down to see the figure of John Hawkes looking up at him, like a puppy expecting a treat. He turned back to the sheriff: ‘That is my instructing agent, Mr John Hawkes of the firm Abernathy and Hawkes.’ The sheriff shook his head: ‘No. Not him. I know him. He’s always in front of me arguing in this court about some fortune or another. Good morning, Mr Hawkes.’ The solicitor popped up, gave a short bow then popped down again. The sheriff nodded outwards: ‘I mean him.’ He pointed towards the lone figure in the gallery: ‘You!’ The figure looked around itself to see who was being spoken to. The sheriff barked: ‘Yes, you. Stand up. What is your name, sir?’

‘Um, Harry Humbie sir.’

The Cyclops sat back: ‘Ah – the son and heir, I presume, of the unfortunate Alexander Humbie?’

Impeccably mannered, the son bowed: ‘At your service, my lord.’

The sheriff bowed back: ‘I suppose you have no idea what learned Counsel and I are talking about - “Luke 16” and whatnot?’

‘I concede that it was Greek to me, my lord.’

Sheriff Meikle smiled: ‘It was a cautionary tale where a very rich man and a beggar die – and the beggar goes to Heaven and the rich man ends up in the fires of Hades.’

Harry Humbie shook his head: ‘Sorry, my lord – I thought that “Lazarus” was the chap who came back from the dead.’

The old sheriff smiled: ‘That was a different “Lazarus”, Mr Humbie. The moral of the take here is that sometimes even the wealthiest people end up in places they had rather not be.’ He held up the papers before him: ‘Rather like your poor, late father.’

Meikle took off his monocle again and rapped it on the bench. Silence for a time, then: ‘Mr Humbie – was your father a good man?’

The question took the son by surprise and he seemed to struggle for an answer: ‘I…I presume so, my lord.’

The sheriff frowned: ‘You presume so? You are…you were his son, sir.’

Harry Humbie gave it a moment, then: ‘I was…I was rather “packed off” to school when I was very young, my lord. I can certainly verify that my father was a man of singular energy who was successful in everything that he chose to do. He was good at what he did and became very wealthy that way…’

The Cyclops shook his head: ‘And so did the chap in the Bible – but look where he ended up. Your father appears to have ended up in Portobello – which I would suggest is closer to Heaven than Hades...’

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