by G R Jordan
‘Sit down, Irvine. This is not your public stage. Sit down and behave, or kindly remove yourself from the building.’ The Rev. Mackenzie had stood back up in the pulpit and now glowered down at Irvine.
‘Remove yourself from that scared post,’ shouted Irvine. ‘You are compromised, sir, given way to the devil and all his ways, allowing such a thing as this for two spawns of evil that came into our community. Blasphemers!’
And with that, Irvine stormed the pulpit, running up the side steps as his compatriots turned to face several deacons coming from the rear of the church. Macleod stood up and with Hope began marching down the aisle. ‘Enough! Gentlemen, enough!’
But his cry was unheeded as Irvine hurdled the low pulpit door and jumped on Mackenzie. Meanwhile Jenny Painter and her father were caught between two factions of churchmen who were starting to come to blows. Mackenzie’s men were older, and punches started to fly. One loose punch caught Jenny Painter on the chin and she dropped to the floor, sending her father into a drunken rage before he was thumped as well.
‘Hope, sort out the mess below. I’ll deal with Irvine and get this stopped.’ Macleod ran now, up the steps to the pulpit but was hit below the knee as the low door was kicked open. It took him a moment to recover before he stepped into the pulpit and grabbed the collar of Irvine.
Below, Hope raced forward and ducked to one side as one of Irvine’s men swung a punch. She grabbed his arm as it passed, pulling it up behind his back and driving him to the floor. ‘Move or I will use more force,’ she said in his ear, before stepping across to his colleague. The man had a bloody fist having just punched an elderly man, and as he turned to face her, she shouted ‘Police, stand down!’ in his face.
But he grabbed her cardigan, pulling it open and then reached for her neck. Hope was too slow, and he grabbed her, throttling her. But she leant into him throwing both arms around him and pulling him close before driving a knee hard into his groin. The man collapsed. She turned to find Macleod manhandling Irvine down the steps and then plonking him into the empty front pew.
‘God will punish you all!’ shouted Irvine.
‘Shut up,’ raged Macleod, staring at the carnage around him. There were a couple of older churchmen on the ground and blood had been spilt from their mouths and cheeks. Jenny Painter was lying down groaning, with Alan Painter over her, sobbing.
‘Is there a doctor in the house?’ asked Hope. She saw a woman rise along with a man. Without hesitating, they went to Jenny Painter and after a quick examination informed Hope that she would be fine but to leave her with them for the moment.
‘Everyone stays here,’ ordered Macleod. ‘And as for you, Irvine, kindly on your feet and take yourself to the vestibule.’ He saw the man ready to complain and shook his head. Flicking his mobile open he called for backup. When Irvine did not move, Macleod frogmarched him and his colleagues outside where they waited a few moments until two police cars arrived. ‘Take them to the station and hold them until we get there,’ said Macleod.
When the miscreants had been safely dispatched in the marked cars, Macleod turned to Hope. ‘You okay? Did they get you?’
‘No. It was like a slow-motion event. He got my neck at one point, but he won’t walk straight for a while.’ She smiled and then laughed. ‘I can see why you enjoyed your childhood if this is what church was like.’
‘Total disgrace,’ said Macleod. ‘Do you think he’s capable? Irvine, I mean, would he kill?’
‘He’s all bluster. He barely put up a fight when you intervened, it’s all about show. Keeping his standing, that’s all.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Macleod. But he understood Hope’s point. With the Carsons gone and the club in disarray, Irvine was a winner. Why kill? It was risky for his soapbox stand. It was too much for what he would achieve.
Once inside, Macleod dispersed the congregation before sitting with Jenny Painter. The woman had a bleeding chin where she had clocked a punch and her father was hanging over her. ‘Could I have a minute?’ asked Macleod.
‘Of course, Inspector, and thank you. That got very nasty.’
‘You know Rev. Irvine; you’re part of his church. What do you make of him?’
‘I don’t get this; this is not the place. But he’s right with what Bubba did, he disturbed the norm, broke into places we didn’t want disturbed. Look at my father, he’s a drunken wreck and that club helped him be like that. The minister is right but he’s a live wire.’
‘Is he capable of going further than this?’
‘No,’ said Jenny, ‘that’s a crazy idea. He’s a man of God.’
‘What about his children and his housekeeper, as he calls Mairi.’
‘She’s a housekeeper, Inspector, and he adopted all those kids. I know. I did some paperwork for him and they are all legally his and Mairi is a paid nanny. There’s nothing strange in his past. I guess he’s too intense for a woman to be his wife. And it would detract from his work. This is out of character for him; he’s gone too far.’
‘Okay, Miss Painter, I’ll not detain you. Get that chin looked at.’
Macleod walked outside and breathed deeply. There was something about Irvine. He knew it even if Hope did not. But where was the motive? Hope was right, the Carsons were worth more alive than dead to Irvine. They did upset a large part of the community and Irvine could draw more people to his church by his vehement stance. Removing them seemed counterproductive. So, who else was there?
As they sat in the car five minutes later, Macleod stopped Hope from turning the ignition. ‘While we’re here and out of earshot of anyone, what’s your take? Where do we look next?’
‘We need motive because there are lot of people with opportunity, it seems. Bubba was smashed with the baseball bat, so whoever did it had gone to the house. Summer was also left naked in her Jacuzzi. These are statements and the one about Summer seems to be of a sexual nature. We need to see who she was with. Dickie Smith said he had a liaison but what if there’s more. And with his eyes he might have spotted others interested in Summer. I say we talk to him again.’
‘Agreed,’ said Macleod. ‘Drive on.’
‘First, we’re going back to the hall because I am not walking around in this skirt all day, I feel like a frump. I’m boiling in this cardigan too.’
Macleod smirked. She would never make an islander. At least not a church-going one.
Chapter 17
‘Dickie Smith’s in town, sir. Went in on the bus. He’s not planning to be back until this evening, late. I think it’s a lot to do with the timetable of the buses.’
‘I doubt that, Stewart, probably more to do with a woman. Ring him and tell him that I will meet him in front of the town hall. It’s urgent, so if he gives any problems advise we can always come into the station for a more formal chat.’
Stewart simply nodded and Macleod wondered if the lack of spectacle pushing meant he had achieved something. The woman was very competent, and Macleod was growing to like her despite the distant manner she had.
A vibration from his mobile caused him to bring it from his pocket. There was a simple message from Mackintosh, asking to meet when he could. She had been up all night apparently and was going to bed so he would need to ring her mobile and wake her when he was available. But she had gone over all the bodies and had found connections. Macleod would ring her after meeting Dickie Smith, bringing Hope along too.
As if she had heard him thinking, Hope walked into the community hall back room and grabbed her jacket. Decked out in a white blouse, jeans and a leather jacket she looked more like herself than this morning and her comfort in her clothes showed. ‘Let’s get this show on the road,’ she said, and Macleod nodded, throwing her the keys.
The island was generally cool but pleasant, never rising above a temperature where you could walk with a light jacket on, but in summer you got those days or maybe a week if you were lucky, when the place felt like the Costa Brava. The temperature never got as high but because you had be
en cool for so long, the sudden rise when it did occur meant people went crazy. Driving into town, Macleod saw the annual parade of shorts and t-shirts, desperately flung on as the blistering heat arrived. He hated these days.
‘Where is he?’ asked Hope.
‘Just keep going into town. I said we would grab him at the town hall. He said two o’clock. So, we are a little early.’
After parking in the main car park opposite the town hall, the pair stood at the railings that prevented people from scrambling over the rocks at the harbour. The black and white ferry had its front open and cars were streaming on. The tourist season was in full flow and having been out at Bhuinaig, Macleod had missed most of the tourists. The water before him was lapping gently and he found himself sweating in his suit jacket and shirt.
‘Well I am not taking this,’ said Hope, removing her jacket and flinging her hair back with a shake of her head. She adjusted the hair tie and Macleod wondered if she had called Allinson yet. ‘You can ask.’
‘Ask what?’
‘You don’t look at me like that unless you are thinking something about me. Unless it’s rude or erotic, you can ask.’ A cheeky smile caught him as he was about to protest his innocence.
‘Was wondering if you’d rung him.’
‘Have you rung her?’ asked Hope.
‘Briefly. She was in bed and it was stupid o’clock. So, I’ve done my duty, so what about you, Hope?’ It was like they were just a couple of friends, sat watching the water and having a yarn about the day. In truth, this was one of the things Macleod liked about working with Hope; they had an intimacy he had never achieved with any other colleague. And it had surprised him for she was not a woman he would have liked a few years back. But then he had been a stuffy arse. Thank God for Jane. And for Hope.
‘I did.’
‘Okay, I don’t need details.’
‘But you want to know them, don’t you?’ Hope said. ‘You’re a detective like me; of course you want the details, to be in the know.’
‘It’s private. And not something a man in his own relationship should be talking to a woman about. Let’s keep a distance.’
‘No, Seoras, let’s not. I haven’t spoken to anyone else about this. I haven’t got anyone.’
‘You could talk to Jane, she’d help,’ Macleod said, looking away at the ferry now wishing he were on it and Hope firmly on the island.
‘And she’s a woman. Allinson’s a man and I need someone who understands men. I need one of them and you are the only one I know to trust, apart from him.’
‘Okay,’ said Macleod, turning around and sitting down on the concrete base the railings were fixed into. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘I want to make a stand on this. I don’t like being told how I dress, or how I can be. But I don’t want to drive him away. How do I make it work?’
‘I was a stuffy arse for years, Hope. And I don’t get his objection. If you were my girl, I’d enjoy it. But he doesn’t. So, if you think it’s that important, he must agree, or you walk away. But if I were you, I’d compromise. If you really were not bothered about Allinson, you’d have walked by now.’
‘What’s a compromise look like?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Macleod. ‘A day on the beach your way, a day his. You’re adults—get on with it. Take a solo holiday, or take Jane, and dress how you want, then be more conservative with him.’
‘You’d let Jane and I loose on holiday together?’ asked Hope, laughing.
‘No, she’d be a bad influence.’ The temperature seemed to have risen higher and Macleod wanted this tricky situation to stop. And then he saw salvation in the form of Dickie Smith. ‘There’s our man,’ he said, pointing.
‘Okay, you’re released. And Seoras,’ she said taking his hand, ‘thanks. That wasn’t comfortable for you, I know.’ Smiling back, he wondered if she had any idea of the emotions the conversation threw up in him. But he simply smiled back. ‘Now let’s go see to our man, sir’
Dickie Smith stood with a jacket folded over his arm in a pair of white slacks and a cream shirt. Despite his age, he cut quite a form and Macleod saw the man’s eyes following every woman that passed. He knew the tendency inside of himself, but the man was a vulture compared to Macleod the sparrow.
‘Thank you for coming, Mr Smith,’ announced Macleod.
‘Well, your colleague on the telephone did not take no for an answer. Quite a sexy voice.’
Macleod tried to match this comment to Stewart and struggled. If anything, she scared him just a little. ‘Let’s walk and talk. Down by the harbour and then we’ll go to the castle grounds.’
They walked in silence until they cut through the small gate to the harbourside and Macleod could see the lifeboat on its berth. The orange vessel stood out and he remembered being hauled on to it when he had first come to the island in a professional capacity. He had been a signed-up supporter ever since. Looking around him, Macleod saw they were clear of any crowd.
‘Mr Smith, you said that Summer Carson and you had a liaison the night she was murdered. Did you have any previous liaisons?’ The man looked away. ‘I need the truth, Mr Smith. She’s dead and I need to know why. She was left naked in her Jacuzzi.’ The man squirmed, going red in the hot sun. ‘What are not telling me?’
‘Okay. I’ll tell you. We were lovers for about two months before this happened. I used to take a walk down towards the cliffs behind their house. Quite innocently, and one day I had a woman with me. Well, we were standing having a moment when I get the feeling we are being watched.’
‘Who’s the woman you were with?’ asked Hope.
‘Do I need to say?’ he pleaded.
‘Yes. We’ll be discreet but your story needs to check out.’
‘Hell. You’d better be discreet. Eilidh MacIver, wife of the transport secretary at the council. And she’s still happily married, thanks to me. Gave her life a bit of spice when he was being a bit of bastard. Nice filly too.’
Filly, that’s what you call a damn horse! Macleod saw Hope’s eyebrows rise as well. ‘So, you were on the coastal walk.’
‘And I look over Eilidh’s shoulder and there’s Summer in her bikini looking out from her rear veranda, the one with the Jacuzzi. Well she just stares. I thought nothing of it, just gave her a smile but wondered what was happening that she hadn’t turned away. She was missing something, I could tell. Then a few times at the club, she looked at me, holding the stare, even when I was with another woman.’
‘And what happened next?’ asked Hope.
Smith stayed silent a moment while a couple passed them before resuming. ‘So, I was out on my walk again, partially deliberately, fishing really. I walked past the house two or three times. The first time she saw me. I remember she was in her jeans and a t-shirt, but then she looked great in anything. I thought about going over but was not sure about Bubba being in. When I walked back again, she’s there in a bikini, at the Jacuzzi. I nearly went over but again I wasn’t sure about Bubba, had I gauged this wrong. But the third time, she fixes me with her stare, pops everything off and gets into the Jacuzzi. Well, I didn’t wait about. Straight over there and got into that water with her.’
‘Was that the only time?’ asked Macleod.
‘No, at first it was twice a week but then increased to every other day.’
‘And she just kept offering herself to you?’ asked Macleod, amazed.
‘Well, I had to sit every now and then and listen to how Bubba was playing away from home, how he was not paying attention, how the bedroom had died. She had followed him all the way here and then he had just become involved with the club which was bad enough but now he had another woman on the side. She was sure of it. A local girl, I’m sure she said that with a father who’d be pissed off at it. But to be honest I didn’t listen too close. It was a pain having to hear her whine, but the body was worth it. I mean, she was ripe for plucking, messed up and vulnerable, Inspector. You can’t beat them like that.’
‘You see, Inspector, there was no way I wanted it to stop, Summer was perfect, except for the occasional outburst of tears. Even then it just softened her up. And it was easy. Bubba was disappearing out all the time and she had him nailed down. He would always say when he was coming back. I got a text and then went over. Always at the Jacuzzi too. I’d leave my clothes beside me, she’d have her gown and if he came back, I could scarper out the back and pretend I was just out walking.’
‘But you were in full view of anyone walking past,’ Macleod said, ‘someone must have seen you if you were there that often?’
‘Oh, we got seen once or twice, made it extremely exciting. Not that she enjoyed that bit. I threatened to break it off once or twice, but it made her even more willing. Women are just like expensive violins, Inspector. A good musician knows how to cradle them, speak to them, look at them and draw out the full potential of the instrument, making them sing in the process. But there’s always a range to choose from. And that’s a fine instrument you play there, Inspector.’
Dickie Smith grinned at Hope and Macleod saw her about to rise to the bait. But this was a ploy, Macleod was sure of it. Hope opened her mouth, but Macleod simply held his hand up in front of her.
‘Detective McGrath is not for playing, sir. Now with regards to your time at Summer Carson’s house; did you ever recognise the people watching? Were there many who actually saw you?’
‘Declan Macaulay saw us once but I’m not sure he saw me. But he definitely saw Summer. And there was a regular. They would be low on the path, sitting, looking on. I reckon they had binoculars. Maybe it was Declan coming back, not wishing to be seen.’
‘How many times would they have seen you?’