Wired For Sound

by Cherime MacFarlane

  Room service knocked at the door while he was in the middle of the last call, the one to the studio. Lori opened the door to take the trolley with a word of thanks. After making Hamish a cup of tea, she put it down next to the phone. With a nod, H.M. thanked her while he continued with the conversation. Lori stood behind him, listening to his end of the call.

  "Och! Aye! I killed Slaughter, tha feckin bleedin arse so I would havtae stay here an play games wa tha polis! Use tha brain God gie ye!"

  He took a drink of his tea while listening to the person on the other end of the connection.

  "As soon as tha coppers work all tha shite out, I'll be on tha next plane oot. I would leave now, but tha skunners would think I murdered tha wanker, cease investigatin an drag me back tae hang for it. Cease tha greetin, yur blatherin on is gonnae burst my eardrums. I nae like havin tae be here. Aye, soon as tha filth clear it. I'll leave as soon as they let me. Ring tha rest of tha crew an alert them tae tha change in plan. I'll ring off for now. Dinnae fash yurself; we'll get tha thing done."

  With a grimace, he dropped the phone into the cradle from several inches above it. It rattled when he shoved the phone to one side. Picking up his cup, H.M. leaned back against the cushion. Without further comment, he took a sip of his tea.

  Lori put her cup down on the coffee table. "We have eggs, bacon, potatoes, and English muffins. Are you ready for breakfast now?"

  With a nod, he acknowledged her question. Lori took a plate from the tray and removed the cover before putting it in front of him. When he drained his cup, she refilled it, sweetened his tea and poured in a bit of milk. Giving it a quick stir, Lori put it down beside him. H.M. ate silently.

  She could almost feel the heat burning off him. He was deep in thought. It was doubtful he slept much, but he hadn't left their bed either. When he got up on the nights sleep did not come easily, she always sensed his leaving. Usually, it did not bother her. It would have last night.

  Finishing the last of her scrambled eggs, Lori sat back to sip her tea. It was a habit Hamish had introduced her to. Normally they discussed their plans for the day while drinking their morning tea.

  This morning, her husband had very serious things to think about. When he was ready, Hamish would tell her what was brewing in his mind. Finally, he nodded his head and turned to look at her.

  "Lori, get paper an pencil. We need tae make a list of everyone on tha tour an their possible motives for murder."

  H.M. leaned forward to refill his cup while she went in search of a notebook and mechanical pencil. They always kept several notebooks and pencils around. One never knew when lyrics would pop into one's head. If not written down immediately, they could easily be forgotten.

  Notebook in hand, she sat next to him on the couch. Lori flipped open the pad, well aware of who would be playing secretary.

  "Start with me." Hamish took another sip of his tea before continuing. "I might want him dead tae keep him from spoilin my attempt at strikin out on my own."

  Wide eyed, she gazed up at him in surprise. "That's nonsense! You were prepared for trouble with Slaughter." She stared at him.

  "Luv, we need tae look at this clearly, through tha eyes of tha investigators. I dinnae kill Vincent an," he took another sip of tea, "neither did ye."

  Hamish had decided Lori was not guilty. What did still worry him, was the possibility someone else might think she was.

  "We do have tae try tae investigate this on our own. If we stay tae long at this fair, everything is goin tae fall apart. I can set somethin else up, mind. But I have no wish tae. I really want tae complete tha album, tae way we planned. In order tae investigate, I must think clearly an look at every one, myself included from ah different perspective. Do ye understand me, darlin?"

  She was near tears. "This is not a movie. It won't be fun to guess whodunit. If we figure this one out, someone is going to have to pay the penalty for murder." She threw the notebook down on the coffee table.

  "Vince was my friend. We were taegether when it all started." Hamish said softly. Lori only barely let him put an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to him to cuddle her.

  "I have thought it all through. I must try. I have tae try. Can ye help me with this, Lori? I will need yer help."

  She leaned forward to pick up the notebook. "I'll help you MacGrough, but I still think we should not get involved any further." Lori looked up at him, her hazel eyes moist. "This is going to hurt a lot more before we're through."

  Hamish kissed her gently. He smoothed down her dark brown hair with both hands. "Och, gradh. Aye, ye're likely correct in yur assessment. I did think about that aspect of tha situation. But I do have tae try."

  She nodded, then looked away from him. Checking the mechanical pencil for lead, she began to write in the notebook. "Would that be the only reason you would have to kill Vincent? And, I would suggest you refrain from telling anyone you did it. Saying what you did on the phone was not smart."

  He removed his arm from her shoulders. Hamish banished the night's terrors from his thoughts. "'Tis tha only one I can think of at tha moment. Vince did ye no real harm. Harming ye would be tha only thing I can think of which would make me want tae kill him. As ye're correct when it comes tae my good Scots tongue, I'll nae say that again."

  She tapped the eraser on the notebook. "Good. As to motive, looked at from that angle I suppose I should be next on the damned list. Harm to you is the only reason I can think of which would have caused me to wish anything on Slaughter. But you can take care of yourself, Hamish. I know you don't want to lose the record deal. Even if it went sour, you would find something else. God only knows what, but something."

  Lori rolled the pencil between her fingers. "My paintings are beginning to sell consistently. I'm not sure if that's because I hang around with you, or if people like my stuff. In either case, the money could carry us for a while. I guess I really haven't much of a motive for murder."

  H.M. scrubbed both hands through his long black hair. "Aye, ye're probably at tha bottom of tha list. Put Thud on next. Most of tha world knows Vince left him hanging on tha fast food thing. Thud is holding tha bag. It'll be touch an go for him. If he gets out of tha franchise deal without losing everything he has put by, it will be ah bloody wonder. I'm thinkin he was countin on tha tour tae bail him out."

  She nodded as she wrote Thud's name down then put two large XXs next to it.

  H.M. looked over her shoulder. "Double cross? Aye, I think that covers it. Lurch and Vincent have been quarreling for weeks. I've caught them going at it ah couple times. They would button up when I came round. I've no idea what it was about. Have you heard anything?" He looked at her inquiringly.

  Lori wove the pencil over and under three fingers. "I wouldn't have thought Lurch would have entered into any business deals with Vincent after what happened to Thud. I haven't heard any gossip about a deal between the two."

  Hamish watched as she wrote 'Lurch' on the paper.

  "Three years ago Lurch tried ta leave tha band. He had an offer tae tour with ah big name. Vince threatened all sorts of legal shenanigans if they hired Lurch. Of course, tha whole thing fell through. Lurch is still resentful. With tha band breaking up it leaves tha big man dangling."

  Lori wrote down the particulars. "That's why Lurch was so upset when you told him what you intended to do. Was he angry at you as well as Vincent?"

  "I think he is angry at tha world," Hamish responded. "But I have always treated Lurch fairly. I told him I wanted tae leave Bushmaster before goin tae anyone else."

  H.M. thought for a moment. "Lurch is nae tha kind tae do something under handed. If he were angry enough, he would launch ah frontal attack. I find it hard tae believe he is capable of this sort of thing."

  Looking up from the notebook where she had written Glen's name under Lurch's, Lori asked H.M. "What about Glen?" Turning to look at the sheet, she drew two firm lines under the base player's name.

  "Och, Glen taken on his own, has nae qua
rrel with anyone. He is ah mild mannered sort, nae easily stirred. Glen in defense of Francie is another matter. I wouldnae think either of them has forgiven or forgotten Vince's high handed treatment of her."

  Her feet found the coffee table. Lori rolled her insteps back and forth over the edge of the table top. "I don't believe I ever learned the whole story. I have suspected you knew more than you were saying."

  "As tae that, right again, my lass. But I was sworn tae secrecy by Francie."

  "Hamish Cadell MacGrough! Are you going to tell me now or not?" Lori slapped him lightly on the arm with the notebook.

  "Och, aye. I suppose I have tae break my word under tha circumstance. But ye are nae tae breathe ah word of this tae anyone else, which includes tha polis." H.M. put his hand beneath her chin and turned her head toward him. "I'll have yur word on this. Promise me."

  "OK! Of course, I won't say anything." Lori jerked her head away.

  Hamish let her go and plopped back against the cushions. Putting one bare foot on the edge of the coffee table, H.M. curled his toes around the edge of the wood as he stared at the empty mug for a moment. "Ye ken at one time Francie hung round with Vince? As it happens, things were pretty good between Vince an Francie. Of all his women, she lasted tha longest. I suppose it frightened tha bugger. He decided he wanted rid of her. Francie was having none of it. Vince got her high one night, booze and God knows what else, he turned her out. Everyone at his little gatherin had ah bit."

  Hamish was silent for a moment. Then he continued.

  "You recall tha night I called you at tha restaurant an we had tae cancel our dinner date? I was with Francie. I took her tae ah private clinic in London. I made sure she was settled before I came back tae tha flat. It happened,...per'aps three months ago?"

  Once again the man fell silent. As Lori waited for him to continue, she watched him push one cuticle back with a thumb nail. It was apparent, her husband did not wish to air Francie's tale.

  "Glen was tha one she called tae take her home from tha clinic. He loved her long before tha thing with Vince was over. I dinna imagine he appreciated tha method Slaughter used to dump her. If he had done tha same tae you, I would ha beaten him tae death."

  There was a quality about H.M.'s tone of voice which frightened Lori. She knew at once Hamish would have destroyed Slaughter, had she been the victim of his nasty nature.

  "Then you feel Glen could have taken revenge against Vincent for the horrible way he dumped Francie?" She asked softly.

  H.M. turned to look at Lori. His face was drawn. There was a harshness there she had never seen before. "Glen an I are tha most mild mannered of tha lot of us. I know what I would have done tae Vince."

  There was a quaver in his voice. "Truth be told, as it was, I wanted tae mop tha floor with him on her account. I know tha Viper sported ah broken lip for ah wee while. He told everyone he had ah really horrid fever blister. That coupled with Glen's cut knuckles, told me all I needed tae ken. He did try tae even tha score for Francie. I would think Francie put ah stop tae Glen's efforts in Vince's direction. He has ah motive for murder, aye, an Francie as well."

  Without looking back at her husband, Lori wrote Francie's name on the page beneath Glen's. She then connected the two with arrows. Drawing small doodles on the page, Lori didn't comment on the affair.

  Hamish went silent again. Lost in thought, he was again using a thumb nail to push back the skin around his finger nails. From the corner of her eye, Lori glanced at him. How many other people had a reason for exacting the ultimate revenge from Slaughter? She asked herself.

  It was hate at first sight between herself and Slaughter. It was easy to see he used people. Lori knew Vince was a user, having met and been used by his kind before. Hamish wasn't the only one who had secrets. There were a few things she hadn't confided to him.

  Once this was over they would need to have a long talk. At second glance, secrets of that nature could hurt a relationship. She would have to tell him about the man who had taught her all about people like Slaughter.

  The doodles on the paper blossomed in the margins as she thought about all the things they hadn't quite gotten to in their relationship. Somehow, talking about their pasts had been shoved under the rug.

  "Luv?"

  "Yes? I was thinking Hamish."

  "Hummm. I noticed. Unhappy memories I gather?"

  He was too perceptive when it came to her thoughts and feelings. "Later Hamish, we have other fish to fry at the moment."

  Reluctantly, he changed the subject. "Motive. Well, add Warren tae tha list. Vincent recently accused him of double dealing with our finances. Vince felt Warren was taking large kickbacks from vendors he illegally allowed tae operate in tha parking lots."

  "Complete nonsense that." With a snort of disapproval, she added Warren's name to the growing list.

  "True. But, Vincent was ah bit worse than usual on this tour."

  Lori nodded agreement. "I think your defection had Slaughter worried. You were his good luck charm. He was afraid without you, he was going to fall flat on his face."

  "Seriously?" Her statement surprised H.M. "Do ye mean he was superstitious about tha band?"

  "No, darling, not the band, you. He was afraid of losing you. The closer it came to the last show, the nastier he got with you because he was afraid." Hamish ran his hands through his hair several times as he thought about his wife's comments.

  "Odd. Verra confusin behavior. I would think if you were afraid of losin someone, ye would try tae mend yer ways tae see if tha relationship could be saved." Hamish turned to her with a serious look in his eyes.

  Her full lips curved upward in a grin before Lori tugged his head down. Soft lips brushed across his in a quick kiss. "And there my dear, you have the fundamental difference between you and Vincent. Fear doesn't drive you the way it did him. Now, who else goes on the list?”

  "All the roadies." Was the immediate response from her husband.

  "Oh dear! There is no way we can investigate everyone." Lori put the pad and pencil down. "This is an impossible situation."

  Scooting back on the couch, she leaned back against him. Warmth radiated from his bare chest. They both fell silent for a moment.

  H.M. wrapped his arms around her. Lori's hair was flyway this morning as a result of not having dried it before coming to bed. It sort of swirled around her head. The loose strands tickled his chest.

  When his thoughts turned to sex, Hamish repressed them with difficulty. What they were doing was vitally important. There would be time for loving later. "Ed used tae take care of Vince's guitars and amps. Vince told him off in front of everyone at tha sound check in tha gig we did before Seattle, Vancouver, Canada, I believe. Vincent said Ed was incompetent. As I recall, Ed threatened to break all his fingers."

  An incredulous look was on her face as Lori tipped her head back to look at H.M. "Our Ed? The one who always helps us sneak past everyone? That Ed?"

  "'Fraid so, luv."

  She laid her head back on his chest while thinking about what her husband had just said. "Didn't Vincent issue an edict regarding too much damage to the equipment? He said he was going to cut everyone's pay if anything else happened?"

  Hamish nodded. "Aye he did. All tha roadies were up in arms over his pronouncement. Normal attrition was tha extent of it. No one was being unduly lax. They threatened tae dump us in Seattle. Vince decided he had gone ah wee mite tae far, so he threw tha big bash after tha last performance tae sweeten them up."

  "How do I miss these things? H.M. have you been holding out on me?" With the pencil between her fingers, Lori rubbed her palm down his arm.

  "Nae luv. Ye're usually attached tae yur headphones, up tae yur eyebrows in work, when tha crisis occur. I am certainly not going tae disturb ye for that kind of thing. All is usually settled by tha time ye emerge from one of yur creative sessions. I understand about not wishing tae be disturbed by petty squabbles when ye have tha bug. Ye've always guarded my time, so I do tha same for
you."

  Lori was smiling when she folded up the notebook. It was comforting to know that he considered her career as something to be guarded. On occasion she had wondered how he really felt about her art. "Is this everyone? If so how do you intend to proceed?"

  A huge yawn caused his jaw to crack. "Everyone I can think of for tha moment. There may be others we have nae notion exist. Tis enough tae begin with. We need tae find out where everyone is, then set up a meeting with each of tha band members."

  Shuddering, he stretched. Lack of sleep was wearing. "We will have tae approach tha matter ah wee mite differently when dealing with tha crew. I think we should start with Ed. As far as tha other members of tha band are concerned, we are going tae have tae ask ah lot of questions. We are not goin tae be terribly popular when everyone realizes what we are about."

  Lori reached for the phone. "Who first?"

  Taking his feet off the coffee table, Hamish rose from the couch. "Warren. I want tae speak with him. I need tae find ah shirt. Give him ah call. Per'aps we can meet by tha pool, in tha shade." He called out to Lori from the bedroom.

  H.M. heard the murmur of her voice as he found a tee shirt and tugged it on. His mind continued to worry the problem of Vincent's murder like a dog with a bone. Lack of sleep did not help his thought processes. He felt fuzzy, almost hung over.

  Something nagged at his memory, something he needed to recall. The thought he couldn't quite grasp, taunted him. It was there on the fringes of his consciousness, but each time he tried to pull it in, it dissolved like a dream.

  Sitting on the bench in front of the dressing table, Hamish began looking for his socks. As he pulled open drawers while searching, he glanced at the items laying there. Lori's things were scattered haphazardly across the polished surface.

  Noticing a bit of black under a fingernail, he picked up her penknife. Prying out the large blade, Hamish began to clean underneath his fingernails, the search for socks forgotten for the moment. The large blade was becoming dull so decided to switch to the smaller one.