The Viv Fraser Mysteries Box Set 1

by V Clifford

  Before he had finished, another nurse let the brake off the trolley and deftly wheeled Viv back into the X-ray suite. Viv smiled, recalling how academics bang on about linguistic hygiene: a room less like a suite she’d never seen. Mac waited outside until she was wheeled back, then strode beside her as the nurse picked up her pace.

  ‘I read recently that perception is the leader of the human dance.’

  Viv looked at him quizzically. ‘Did you say deception?’

  ‘No. Perception . . . But you know what? I think you’re right. Deception’s more accurate.’

  They fell into a companionable silence and Viv’s exhausted lids fell over her eyes as she was trundled toward sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  During the next few days Viv was supposed to be convalescing, but Mac pitched up one morning to share some surprising news about the debacle in Aberdeen.

  He sat nursing a cup of espresso and launched. ‘God, Viv, I’m struggling to get my head round this one.’ He sipped his coffee, as Viv’s frustration grew. ‘Simon, it transpires, was, is even more twisted than we thought. According to his birth certificate he isn’t . . . wasn’t a man at all, but born female, now in the early stages of gender reassignment. I’m not sure which tense to use. It’s all got a bit confusing.’

  Viv nodded. ‘You know, that makes complete sense to me. When I was up that glen, lying in the heather watching them . . . oh my God, it was so sensual and natural to me . . . what you’ve just said makes total sense.’ She nodded again emphatically.

  Mac stared at her as if she might continue but she didn’t, so he said, ‘Don’t suppose you’d like to enlighten me?’

  ‘Nah. You’ll get there in your own time . . .’ She glanced towards the window. ‘I feel sorry for Rebecca, though. She’s just been an extra in their drama.’

  Mac stood to leave. ‘There’s more to this gender stuff than I’ve been willing to learn.’

  Viv smiled. ‘You’re doing okay, Mac, you can’t be good at everything.’

  He ran his hands through his hair and gestured for her not to get up. ‘Sit where you are. I’ll stick these in the kitchen.’ He held up their cups.

  But there was no way she’d let him. She unfolded her legs from beneath her and took them from him. ‘Thanks, Mac. You’re a good man.’

  ‘Yeah, but a man nonetheless.’

  She giggled. ‘There’s no denying that.’ She rubbed his upper arm as he made for the door.

  That same day, Viv received a letter from Lynn. Although surprised that Lynn had her address, Viv was even more surprised at what she read. She lifted the phone and pressed Lynn’s number.

  ‘Hi, Lynn, it’s Viv.’

  ‘Oh, Viv. Thanks for ringing. I’m desperate to talk to someone and I know how good you are at keeping things to yourself.’

  ‘But Lynn if you need professional help . . . I mean counselling, I’m not your woman. You should go to your GP and . . . ’

  Lynn interrupted. ‘No. No. I can’t . . . I can’t really speak on the phone but could you meet me for coffee?’

  ‘Okay. Will I come to the house?’

  ‘No. No . . . it’s shambolic. I’m selling up.’

  Viv remembered the ESPC photograph. ‘But . . . why?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when I see you.’

  Viv ruffled her hair and sighed. ‘Okay, where?’

  ‘How about the Dakota?’

  ‘Sure. When?’

  ‘ASAP.’

  ‘It’ll take me half an hour to get ready and the same to drive out. Say, eleven o’clock?’

  ‘Great. See you there . . . and thanks, Viv.’

  She stood looking at the phone; the relief in Lynn’s voice was hard to fathom. What the hell had been happening?

  Viv showered tentatively. After five days the purple and yellow hues on her back and sides were still impressive although the colour of her neck had faded so that she now only looked jaundiced. She gently drew a towel over her shoulders and patted her wounds before pulling on jodhpurs and boots and heading out.

  The Dakota looked more like a correction facility than a trendy boutique hotel, but the bonus was heaps of parking. Viv swung the Rav into a space right by the door. Lynn rose unsteadily from a leather armchair when she spotted Viv. Alarmed at how wobbly Lynn was, Viv took her arm and guided her through reception and into another lounge.

  ‘My God, Lynn, we’re the walking wounded. What’s happened to you?’

  Lynn winced as she shrugged her jacket off and plonked herself down. ‘It’s a long story.’

  Viv slipped her own jacket off and gently took a seat opposite. ‘That’s why we’re here, so why don’t you take your time and tell me what’s happened.’ She was keen to hear about the flat first but held her tongue.

  A waiter laid down napkins and a small bowl of salty bites, asking what they’d like. The morning menu had endless varieties of coffee but they both opted for cappuccino.

  Lynn fiddled with her napkin and said again, ‘It’s a long story.’

  Viv nodded then said, ‘Excuse me for a second.’ She reached for her mobile as it vibrated, checked the caller’s ID, then put it back in her pocket. ‘Sorry. I’ve switched it off now. And here we are with as much time as we need.’

  Lynn stared back, let out a breath and set off. ‘When Thurza first came to Newhall, Toddy was under a load of pressure. Being the second son he hadn’t been primed to take on the big house; it was supposed to go to his brother Alexander. But then he was killed in that terrible climbing accident in the Alps. Toddy had to step in. Toddy, grieving himself, was left to look after his distraught mother while having to get his head round being the new Earl. Ben knew the estate and how things work, so he was invaluable to Toddy and they’d always been close.

  When Sandy died Toddy said to Ben that he was relieved it hadn’t been him, Ben. Between them, Toddy and Ben gradually got estate business back into a rhythm and all was well for a while. When Thurza came along things began to change . . . well it sounded as if she injected a bit of cash into building work and Toddy eased off the physical stuff and retreated to the office. The pressure for him and Thurza to produce an heir began to mount.’

  Viv had known all of this, until the part about the heir. ‘Look, Lynn, I already knew about all that stuff, but I haven’t any knowledge about Thurza not being able to have kids. And I’m not sure that I want to know.’

  Lynn continued staring at Viv. ‘Thurza had loads of tests . . . It turned out to be him, Toddy. That’s when the shit really did hit the fan, the drinking increased and . . . Well you’ve probably seen her . . .’

  Viv nodded. ‘Sure. I have, all too often.’ She sat forward in her seat then immediately back again as the waiter arrived with their coffees.

  When the waiter retreated, Viv lifted her cup and cradled it in her hands. She blew over the top of it then signaled with her eyebrows to Lynn to go on.

  Lynn took a deep breath then tentatively looked round as if worried that someone might over hear her and as if to reassure Viv. ‘Toddy couldn’t have children.’ She paused, letting Viv digest what this meant.

  ‘Yeah yeah I get that. But how come . . .? So, if they didn’t have IVF, which I’m sure I’d have heard about, someone must have come to the rescue.’

  ‘That’s just what I’m about to tell you.’ Lynn looked at her neat pink fingernails, then lifted her coffee. ‘I wasn’t around full time then so I’m only repeating what Ben told me . . . Ben had inherited the lease of his dad’s cottage on the estate. He’d grown up with Sandy and Toddy. And spent lots of time with them, at least through primary school. Even during their holidays from Eton they’d get together and shoot rabbits and go ferretting. That kind of stuff . . . What I’m trying to say is that Ben knew them as well as his own family, so when Thurza approached him to be a donor, it didn’t sound as if it would be all that difficult. Ben was young and virile with no problems . . .’

  Viv was having difficulty thinking through the long-
term ramifications of this. But Lynn continued, ‘Obviously it all had to be completely hush hush, but Ben let it slip one night when we’d had too much to drink, and I pressed him for the details.’ She looked at Viv to see what effect her story was having.

  Viv tried not to look as perplexed as she felt, and nodded her understanding.

  Lynn went on, ‘You know what that means though, don’t you? It means that my boys are brothers to her boys.’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah. I get it . . . how long have you known?’

  Lynn shook her head. ‘A long time. When he first told me I was outraged, but the more he explained the more I felt sorry for Thurza. Toddy isn’t exactly a looker. Even if he’d had a personality, you know a great sense of humour or something, it would have made up for the . . . ’ She shook her head. ‘Well, never mind.’

  ‘What, Lynn, you think I’m not outraged every time she’s hiding bruises? I don’t get it.’ Then she whispered, ‘I suppose I do get it, but it’s pathetic that she stays with him.’

  ‘But, Viv, it was Thurza’s idea to get Ben involved. Toddy would never have suggested it. So she’s hugely grateful to have healthy twin boys. But I’m guessing that every time Toddy sees them he thinks of Ben. They look like Ben. My own boys could be Thurza’s. There’s no mistaking that they all came from the same gene pool.’

  The waiter hovered. ‘Can I get you anything else?’

  They looked at each other and nodded in unison. Viv said, ‘Same again, please.’

  Lynn whispered, ‘I’ll regret this.’

  Viv’s sense of ethics also began to tickle at the edge of her conscience. ‘If you feel that way maybe we shouldn’t say any more.’

  ‘No. I meant the caffeine. But I expect you’re right. Not that there’s much more to say anyway . . . Although Thurza came round and apologised unreservedly. She’s going to recommend Marty for a holiday job at a friend’s farm. She knows which buttons to press with him. He’d love that.’ Lynn moved awkwardly in her seat.

  ‘So how come you’re in so much discomfort?’

  The hotel was quiet and the waiter soon returned with their new cappuccinos. Lynn scraped bits of cocoa off the top of hers and continued her story as she licked her spoon. ‘The day that Thurza came to speak to Martin, she stayed on after he left . . . Things got out of hand.’

  Viv kept her voice steady. ‘In what way out of hand?’

  Lynn looked sheepish. Then her face broke into a grin. ‘I slapped her. I slapped her good and hard round the face.’

  Viv was so taken aback that she also smiled. ‘But why? She’d just apologised and that’s what you wanted.’

  ‘She sounded smug. High and bloody mighty. It just got to me.’

  ‘But what did she say?’

  ‘Oh, she didn’t say much. She slapped me back.’ Then Lynn giggled. ‘So I slapped her again.’ She stared at Viv. ‘You know how it goes. One punch leads to another and soon we were like bitches in a bar room brawl . . . and let’s say we were less than polite.’

  ‘But you’re in pain. You can’t have that.’

  ‘Oh I did that when . . . well after two or three goes at each other we both got hysterical and I staggered back and whacked my thigh on the corner of the HiFi.’

  Viv shook her head. ‘When was all this?’

  ‘A few days ago. Believe it or not, by the time she left we’d had a cup of tea, and made up.’

  Viv’s mouth was wide open in utter disbelief. ‘But I don’t get it . . . Why would you sell the flat, Lynn? It’s your castle. That view, my God, where else would you get a view like that?’

  Lynn’s eyes filled. ‘I just can’t live with them so close by.’

  ‘But if you move, they’ll have won . . . Not that Thurza’s exactly sitting on the jackpot.’

  ‘She helped with the flat.’

  Viv nodded. ‘So what? That was then and this is now. It’s your home and presumably you own it?’

  ‘Oh, sure. Thurza saw to that when the boys and I had to leave the cottage. But it’s awkward for everyone.’

  ‘The boys . . . ?’

  ‘Oh, God, no. They don’t know and never will.’ She looked at Viv pleadingly.

  Viv drew in a deep breath. ‘I’m not going to talk to anyone about any of this so you can relax. But knowing this goes some way to understanding their relationship.’

  Lynn threw Viv a questioning look. ‘You mean Thurza and Toddy?’

  ‘Yeah. It must be hard for him. Not that that excuses his behaviour. She must feel beholden to him. My godfathers, how could they have imagined that doing something so dramatic wouldn’t have major consequences?’ Viv stared across at Lynn. ‘How are the twins?’

  ‘Really nice boys. But they were bound to be. Their dad was a really good man.’

  It was Viv’s turn to give a questioning look. ‘And the accident?’

  ‘We’ll never know. Ben was doing tree work . . . in the days before harnesses and health and safety freaks. He fell off a sequoia, raising the crown apparently.’ Her eyes filled again and she stared toward the tinted windows at the end of the room. ‘Toddy was with him, and unless he’s an excellent actor, was absolutely devastated. Thurza said the other day that Toddy had always loved Ben more than he ever loved her. Imagine living like that, Viv? It must be horrible.’

  After all that Lynn had been through her attitude towards the Newhalls was admirable. If Viv had found herself in those circumstances she was not sure she’d have handled it so well.

  ‘What do you mean exactly?’

  ‘Toddy’s temper has got to have something to do with all his grief. That stiff upper lip stuff must be killing him.’ She nodded. ‘His temper’s certainly not getting any easier.’

  Viv recalled Toddy and the relationship between him and Ben. Since they were childhood friends, good enough friends for Ben to agree to help them with a family, there must have been all manner of conflicting emotions flying around. Viv wanted to ask more questions but she remembered the ‘need to know’ rule, and guessed that over time she’d get the details.

  Lynn interrupted Viv’s musings. ‘So you see Ben was responsible for . . . ’

  ‘Nothing beyond helping out his childhood friend and his wife.’ Then tentatively, ‘I guess there was an inquiry at the time of Ben’s death?’

  ‘Not that you’d believe. It became the elephant in the room. I think that’s why Thurza wanted me off the estate. Me and the boys were a constant reminder . . . What a mess.’

  Viv’s head shot up at this. ‘You can’t take the blame for any of this. You weren’t even around when Ben . . .’ She left it hanging, seeing that Lynn was too upset to go there.

  They sat quietly, Lynn looking out towards the car park and Viv appraising the décor.

  Then Lynn blurted, ‘He didn’t sleep with her . . . they had some kind of medical implement like a turkey baster.’ She grimaced and shook her head. ‘No point in going over it now, but after this recent debacle I don’t want anything more to do with them, and the house is a constant reminder.’

  ‘But, Lynn, promise me you won’t do anything until you sleep on it for a couple of weeks. The flat is so perfect for you. Beside where would you go?’ Then smiling. ‘Who’d you get to cut your hair if you left the area?’

  This brought a smile to Lynn’s face. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  Viv pressed. ‘Promise me you’ll think about it for a while. No one ever regrets thinking time when making a decision as important as this.’

  Lynn nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll give it a couple of weeks . . . Thanks, Viv.’

  Viv reached into her jacket and took out some cash. Immediately Lynn started fussing in her own purse.

  ‘It’s coffee, Lynn. It’ll not break the bank.’

  Lynn conceded. ‘Thanks. I owe you . . . and more than a cup of coffee.’

  Viv stood and scooped her jacket off the back of the chair. Lynn followed her lead.

  As they walked back through reception to the car park Viv said, ‘T
here ain’t nothing stranger than folk.’

  Lynn pushed open the door. ‘You’re telling me. Thanks for listening, Viv.’

  Viv waved as she stepped up to the Rav then returned the call she’d missed before heading back into town. ‘Hi, Red. What’s up?’

  ‘We should have a chat.’

  ‘Sounds ominous.’

  ‘Well you know the girl from the canal?’ She waited for Viv’s reply.

  ‘Well I know the case you’re talking about but I don’t know the girl.’

  ‘You sure about that, Doc?’

  Viv hesitated. ‘Yes. Why? You going to tell me otherwise?’

  ‘Funny you should say that ’cause we have a photograph of you with the deceased.’

  Viv was gob-smacked. ‘A what? How . . . I mean, who is she?’ All manner of possibilities ran through Viv’s mind. Confusion was evident in her tone.

  ‘The girl’s name is Nancy McVee.’

  ‘What? You must be kidding. Nancy McVee?’

  ‘So you do know her? You’ll have to come in.’

  ‘I don’t actually know her, but I . . .’

  Red sighed. ‘Viv, this is serious. I’ll need your full co-operation.’

  ‘Of course, it’s just bizarre. You’re right. I’ll have to see you to give you the full story. I’ll head in now.’ She looked at her watch. ‘See you in twenty minutes.’

  ‘And Doc, don’t get creative on the way.’

  Viv jumped into the car, gripped the steering wheel, and stared straight ahead. If Nancy McVee was dead, what did that mean for Walter? She tried to remember the timeline. Nancy had sent Viv an email, days after that body was fished out of the canal. Okay, so someone else could have sent the email, but why would they bother? This thought tickled at something uncomfortable inside her. What if Walter was involved, and wanted to make it look as if Nancy was still alive? He’d even said that she’d been in touch again. But Walter? He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Oh boy, this could be interesting. She started the engine, pulled out of the Dakota car park and headed for Fettes.

  Red was pacing in the foyer when Viv arrived. She gestured towards a door on the right. The look she threw Viv was not encouraging. Red strode down the corridor and Viv followed on her heels.