‘That may have been all anyone knew about, but there could have been more.’
‘No, not here, not in a wee place like this. Whatever anybody does, however much they try to keep it secret, somebody else always gets to know about it.’
She hesitated for a moment, then said, ‘D’you know what I think? Nancy said Tom Birnie wasn’t pleased at my father for making him admit to fathering her child, so I’m nearly sure this is just a story he’s made up to get back at him.’
‘What good would it do Birnie, though?’
‘I don’t know, just the satisfaction of blackening my father’s character, I suppose. In any case, whatever he said, it hasn’t taken you any nearer to finding my Dad, has it?’
Roddy smiled wryly. ‘No, it hasn’t.’
He had only been gone from the shop for five minutes when Nancy rang. ‘Take the chair round from the end of the counter,’ she ordered. ‘You’ll need a seat when I tell you the latest.’
Stretching as far as she could, Lexie managed to hook her toes round a leg of the chair provided for elderly customers and pull it towards her. ‘Right, hurry up and tell me, for I’ve got something to tell you, and all.’
‘OK. You know that woman from Aberdeen I spoke about? She’s Mrs Birnie’s sister. She says she didn’t know Alec Fraser, but according to Tom, he was the man Margaret ran away with in 1929. She has never heard a word from her since.’
The wind having been taken out of her sails, Lexie mumbled, ‘I still don’t believe it.’
‘What d’you mean still? Has somebody else told you the same thing?’
‘Roddy Liddell’s been in to tell me the doctor contacted the police in Glasgow and told them that same story, but you said yourself he was a liar.’
‘Oh.’ There was a wealth of meaning in the word, then silence.
Lexie waited for a few moments, then said, ‘Are you still there, Nancy?’
‘Yes, I’m thinking, and you’re right. I wouldn’t trust that two-faced swine supposing he’d a halo and wings – though he’s more likely to have horns and a tail. Anyway, Mrs Chalmers gave me her mother’s phone number – she was going to Stirling to see her after she left me – so I’ll give her a tinkle there in the afternoon and ask if her sister ever divorced Tom. I wouldn’t put it past him to have lied to me about her refusing, as well. He could have been free to marry me and never let on … though I’m glad he didn’t, as things turned out.’
‘Did you remember to tell Mrs Birnie’s sister about the ring and the initials?’
‘Oh, damn! I clean forgot, I was so surprised at what she was telling me. I’ll mention it when I phone her at her mother’s, though. I’ll speak to you later.’
Lexie was kept busy that afternoon and old Mrs Wilkie came in just on six to complain in her best English, ‘All yon biscuits I bocht yesterday was broken, and I’d to crummel them ower my stewed rhubarb. You’ll need to replace them … free.’
Fly to all Lizzie’s mother’s tricks, Lexie said, firmly, ‘If you haven’t taken the other packet back, Mattie, I can’t replace it, I’m afraid.’
The old woman stamped out in high dudgeon at being refused, and Lexie was locking up for the day when the telephone shrilled. Presuming that Nancy would only be ringing to vent her fury about Tom Birnie, whose wife had probably divorced him and thus left him free to marry whatever paramour he had by that time, Lexie plugged listlessly into the small exchange. Her eardrums were assaulted by the shrill voice.
‘Oh, God, Lexie, I wanted to ring you hours ago, but I knew you wouldn’t have peace to listen. I’ve nearly bitten my fingernails right down to my knuckles waiting till you shut the shop.’
Knowing Nancy well enough by now to realize that she was excitable and prone to exaggeration, Lexie held little hope of hearing anything of importance. ‘If you’d stop yapping,’ she said, quietly, ‘you’d be able to tell me now, whatever it is.’
Nancy’s voice slid several points down the vocal scale as she held her emotions in check. ‘D’you know what Margaret Birnie’s mother’s name is?’
‘I’ve no idea, but I bet you’re going to tell me.’
‘She’s Mrs Tabitha McLeish.’
‘And …?’
‘She had two daughters – Mary, the oldest one, married a Bill Chalmers, and Margaret married Tom Birnie. Do you get it?’
Lexie felt quite exasperated by this guessing game. ‘Yes, I realize that Mrs Chalmers is Mrs Birnie’s sister, and their mother’s a Mrs McLeish, but …?’
‘Mrs McLeish’s maiden name was Martin, and both daughters have that as a middle name. Mrs Chalmers was once Mary Martin McLeish. Now do you get it?’
‘Mary Martin McLeish?’ Lexie repeated it slowly, taking time to consider what it signified, and then light dawned in a blinding flash. ‘Oh, I see now! Mrs Birnie would have been Margaret Martin McLeish! M.M.McL. It’s her ring! Her body they found!’
‘The penny’s dropped at last! Now, Mrs Chalmers said she would get on to Aberdeen police as soon as she stopped speaking to me, and arrange to go and identify the ring when she got home, which would have been around five. So you can expect a call from your friendly Detective Inspector some time this evening. Look, I’ll have to go. Greig’ll be home in a few minutes, and I’ve nothing ready for him to eat. I’ve been too excited to cook, so it’ll be fish and chips, I’m afraid. Give me a tinkle as soon as you can, to let me know what’s happening.’
Leaving her telephone exchange ready for other calls, Lexie went through to the house and tried to think how this new development would affect her. If the body did turn out to be Margaret Birnie, it meant that she had never left Forvit at all. She hadn’t run away with any other man. The doctor had told lies about that, though he’d pretended it was to save his own face, so … was it possible … had he killed her? He must have!
Lexie was still going over and over this possibility, when Roddy Liddell arrived. ‘I suppose Nancy has told you what was going on?’ he asked, plumping down on the vacant armchair. ‘It is … was … Margaret Birnie’s ring. Apparently both sisters were given a signet ring on their eighteenth birthday, and according to Mrs Chalmers, Mrs Birnie had to wear hers on the cranny of her right hand when she was older. I believe that whoever killed her had removed her wedding ring, but hadn’t known, or had forgotten, about the other one.’
‘She could have lost it herself … how can you be sure it’s her body?’
‘Mrs Chalmers told us that her sister had broken her left leg just below the knee and her left arm just above the wrist in a cycling accident when she was about fourteen, and our surgeon has confirmed that it is definitely Margaret’s body. All we have to do now, is to pick up the doctor.’
Without warning, a horrible thought struck Lexie. ‘What if it wasn’t him?’
Roddy regarded her in some surprise. ‘Who else could it have been?’
Swallowing nervously, she muttered, ‘Suppose she had been having an affair with my father and he’d made her pregnant? Suppose he got angry when she told him?’
The detective stretched across the fireplace and patted her hand reassuringly. ‘From what I’ve heard of him from you and Nancy and other people I’ve spoken to, he was definitely not an aggressive man.’
‘But, he might have wanted to stop her telling anybody, my mother, or the doctor, and he could have killed her. Then he’d have had to bury her, and he wouldn’t have been able to face my mother, and that could be why he disappeared.’
Her visitor sighed deeply. ‘Do you honestly think he had it in him to murder another human being?’
‘He hadn’t meant to kill her. He could have given her a push or a shake that knocked her off her feet and she hit her head on a stone, or something like that.’ She halted, then shook her head. ‘But if he hadn’t meant to kill her, he wouldn’t have buried her. He’d have reported it … wouldn’t he?’
‘I’m sorry, Lexie, but I must point out that people who kill without premeditation, accidentally or otherwise,
become so agitated that all they are concerned with is how to dispose of the body. Once they’ve left the scene of the crime and can think rationally, they are too scared to go back and own up to it.’
‘But …’ Lexie’s face puckered up and she held out both arms to the detective as if appealing for comfort.
‘Don’t upset yourself, my dear,’ he murmured, rising to pull her to her feet and then holding her tenderly. ‘At the moment, we’re still guessing, and we can do nothing more until we hear what Doctor Birnie has to say.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘I thought I’d have heard by this time. I gave them this number.’
Right on cue, the telephone rang, and dropping one arm, he pulled her through to the shop. She made the connection for him then stood by his side, her eyes following every movement of his lips.
‘What? Oh, no! For God’s sake! It proves he did it, though, doesn’t it? I take it the heat’s on to find him? Let me know as soon as you hear anything.’
‘Birnie’s vanished,’ he announced as they walked back to the kitchen. ‘His wife says he told her he’d found somebody else, and went out on his round next morning and never came back. She says she doesn’t know where he is, but they think the other woman was just a blind and that she’s protecting him. Still, it’s a good thing for us that he did take off, for it proves he’s guilty. We’ll find him, don’t doubt that, Lexie.’
Her feelings having seesawed so much over the past hour or so, she couldn’t hold back a sob of relief. ‘Thank goodness it wasn’t my father.’
Liddell’s arms went round her again, more purposefully than before. ‘My poor, poor Lexie. I had hoped the case would be finished tonight, everything solved, but …’ He lowered his head towards her and brushed her lips with his. ‘I won’t rest till Birnie’s under lock and key, but I wish I could find your father for you. I’ll do all I can to trace him, believe me.’
‘Roddy, you’ve been so kind …’
Her voice was so tremulous that it came as no surprise to him when she burst into tears, and his arms tightened round her. ‘Let it out, Lexie. It’ll do you good.’
He held her until she calmed, and then looked deeply into her eyes. ‘Will you be all right on your own tonight, or would you like me to stay with you?’
Not having the nerve to say she would prefer if he kept her company, she assured him that she would be fine.
‘Lock the door behind me,’ he instructed, as he took his leave, ‘then try to get some sleep, though I know that’s easier said than done at a time like this.’
Rising to obey his first order, she thought she may as well go to bed when she was at it, but before she reached the bedroom someone knocked at the outside door. Knowing it couldn’t be Roddy, her legs shaking, she turned and shouted, ‘Who’s there?’
‘It’s Alistair, Lexie.’
‘Go away! I don’t want to see you. I’m going to bed.’
‘I’ve something to tell you.’
‘If it’s about Gwen, I know she’s left you.’
‘You were right, Lexie. It was her you saw with the soldier. I need somebody to talk to and there’s nobody else.’
His last three words were his undoing. ‘Leave me alone. I’m not letting you in!’
She held her breath until she heard his feet going round the side of the house, then she relaxed, but she couldn’t help thinking how much things had changed. At one time, she’d have rushed to let him in. She had practically offered herself to him more than once … but that was before she had remembered being raped. If she had let him do what he wanted the night before he went to London, would the awful memory have come back then, or would he have obliterated it for good? And all those other young men she had stopped after egging them on, had it been stirring in her mind then too? Had she been scared, though she didn’t know why?
Well, now she knew why … and who … and it was awful, unbearable. Alec Fraser hadn’t run off with Nancy Lawrie, or Margaret Birnie, or any other woman, and the only explanation was his shame at raping his daughter.
Having walked for hours trying to think straight, and getting no respite at Lexie’s house, Alistair’s walk back to Benview was slow and laboured. It was maybe just as well she hadn’t let him in, he mused, with a sob in his throat. He was still upset by what Gwen had done; the showdown had taken him by surprise, his heart still felt leaden. Coming to a smooth stretch of grass at the roadside, he sat down to have a breather. Everything was going wrong for him. Every-bloody-thing in his life. He’d been away from his wife and family for five years, two of them spent in a prisoner-of-war camp, and round about the time he was captured, his wife had been consoling herself with another man. Ken Bloody Partridge – it was a name he would never forget.
He fished in his jacket pocket for his packet of Capstan, and couldn’t stop his hand from shaking as he snapped his lighter, but the first long draw of the cigarette did help him. The pain in his heart eased a fraction, the obstruction in his throat disappeared – maybe the effects would only last as long as the cigarette itself, but at least he was getting some benefit from it.
Chapter 31
Two weeks on, Alistair was no nearer to forgiving his wife, despite recalling what he had almost done while she was giving birth to their daughter sixteen years earlier. There were times when he came close, but he always excused himself on the grounds that the circumstances had been entirely different. His lapse had come of a weakness, weakness born of heightened emotions and pique at Lexie’s negative reaction.
The atmosphere at Benview was still distinctly chilly; Leila in particular making it clear that she held him responsible for breaking up the family, which was ridiculous since he had done nothing wrong. Life wasn’t fair. It never had been. Not for him.
He was beginning to realize, however, that such self-pity could not continue for ever. His business was suffering because of his lack of concentration and that was bad. He would have to pull himself together and face up to being an unattached man. Not that he wanted to be attached again, but he should at least try to lead a more or less normal life. He wasn’t the only one whose wife had borne a child to another man while he was away. The damned war had a lot to answer for, though it was no excuse for being unfaithful … for a woman or for a man, though just as many husbands as wives had done a bit of philandering … more probably.
That evening, as he sat down with his children to their evening meal, Alistair decided that it was time to make them understand how deeply their mother had hurt him. He had never defended himself to them, and they needed to be told. Waiting until David had finished his second helping, he motioned to them to remain where they were.
‘But I’m in a hurry,’ David pouted. ‘I’m going out with my pals.’
Leila scowled at her father. ‘I’m meeting Barry, and I don’t want to be late.’
Impatient at their self-absorption, he barked, ‘What I’m going to say to you is far more important than pals or lads.’
They glanced at each other, silently apprehensive, yet obviously resentful, so he went straight into the little speech he had planned. ‘I know you both feel I was too hard on your mother, but let me give you my side.’ He started by relating his experiences in the war, the deprivations of being part of an invading force in alien territory even before he was caught and put behind the barbed wire of an Italian prison camp. Then had come the transfer to the first of several German Stalags, and the long hazardous treks from one to the next, with only the thought of his loving wife and children to keep him sane when there was no food, no kindness, and seemingly, no hope.
‘I loved your mother,’ he told them, ‘and I prayed that it wouldn’t be long till I’d be going home to her again. I trusted her to be faithful to me because I stupidly thought she loved me just as much as I loved her.’
‘She did, Dad,’ Leila burst out. ‘She did. She just made one silly mistake.’
Alistair shook his head mournfully. ‘Young Nicky was the result of that one silly mistake, and that kind of thing
can’t be hidden, Leila, though she and her sister did their best.’ He looked at each of his listeners in turn now. ‘I don’t suppose you know how they managed to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes?’ Their blank expressions telling him that they didn’t, he detailed the plot Marge had hatched, and was pleased to see his daughter’s eyes widen, her expression soften a little.
‘I never knew,’ she whispered.
‘That’s what I can’t forgive,’ he admitted. ‘If she’d confessed to me at the time, I’d have been hurt, naturally, but I could have coped with it like I learned to cope with all the other things fate threw at me. But learning like I did, years after …’ He ran his hand across his perspiring brow. ‘Right from the minute I saw him, I knew Nicky couldn’t be Dougal’s, but I thought it was Marge who had misbehaved, and your mother let me carry right on believing that.’
‘It was all my fault, wasn’t it?’ David muttered suddenly. ‘If I hadn’t let you see the old snaps, you’d never have …’
‘No, that wasn’t what did it. They just proved to me I’d been right about Marge. I never dreamed that …’ He swallowed before going on, ‘… that it was your mother.’
‘Auntie Marge was willing to take the blame,’ Leila reminded him, ‘and Mum didn’t need to tell you the truth. You’d never have found out if she hadn’t.’
‘Truth will always come out, and I had the right to know, hadn’t I? My heart was ground to dust that day, and I’ve only been half a man since. It was like a part of me had been taken away, a part I needed to keep me alive.’
‘Dad,’ Leila said, gently, ‘I can imagine how badly you feel, but Mum does love you and if you loved her as much as you said, you’d have understood that she didn’t mean to do it, it just happened. Ken and her … their feelings, emotions, were all upside down, and their bodies needed each other. Don’t you see? I’ve got to go, but think about it.’
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