Lacing his fingers together, MacGrough cupped his knee. "The polis willnae let me leave until this is settled. I want tae find tha murderer. I dinna believe in killing someone tae make ah point. I do realize Vincent drove people past their limits so, Lori an I are takin up ah collection for ah defense fund for whoever did kill him."
Lurch chuckled. "I've known about you for a long time Heavy Metal. Guess that's why it's getting easier to relate to you dressed like a yuppie. You've always been a straight arrow. We've known one another since the band's first U.S. tour. Probably you are the only reason any of us stayed. I know you kept the Viper half way reasonable. That's why the band couldn't survive losing you. None of the rest of us could work for the bastard on a long term basis."
Hamish nodded in agreement. "Aye. 'Tis one reason I finally decided tae leave. If I played with him any longer, I might have beaten him tae ah pulp some day. I couldnae take any more of his foolishness. My tolerance for his bullshite was fully exhausted."
"Yeah. Well man, you have a lot more patience than I do." Lurch put both arms over his head, with his long legs to the outside of the coffee table, he stretched. "That's why I didn't get too blown out of shape when you told me you were leaving. A human can only put up with so much. Looks like someone did snap. Sure, I'll help defend the poor bastard. Frankly, I can't believe one of us fried his ass. Told that to the cop. He said it had to be someone who was a musician or worked around music. About the only person who comes to mind would be Glen. Somehow, that doesn't figure. Glen is easy going and laid back, more like you. Neither of you ever struck me as violent types."
Thrusting one hand through his hair, Hamish replied. "I find it hard ta believe Glen is capable of murder. I do ken he bashed Vincent once."
Lurch thought for a moment. "The deal over Francie. I recall that." He glanced over at Lori before turning his attention back to H.M. "Lousy deal that, I lost all respect for Vince afterward."
Lori laughed. "What is this? Everyone knew the state secret but me?"
"Nah." Lurch replied. "Not everyone knew. Those of us who did, kept quiet. No one wanted to hurt Francie. I sort of wished she hadn't stuck around. I was glad to see her with Glen, he really cares about her. But, it seemed unhealthy for her to hang around after Vince's dirty little trick."
Reaching up, Lurch rubbed sleep out of the corner of his eye with one finger. "Some of the crew was very uncomfortable around her after that. We all tried to pretend the whole thing hadn't happened. No one wanted it to get out. Actually, Vince got rid of most of the crew who participated in the party. He only kept a couple of guys on."
Lurch looked at Lori. "The only reason I know about it, is because I was in the building practicing a riff. Vince didn't know I was still there. I wish I hadn't been working with the recorder. If I hadn't been wearing headphones I might have heard the noise."
He shrugged. "I would have put a stop to the whole party. I saw you taking her out to the car, H.M. I thought maybe he had beat on her until I talked to one of the crew who was too drunk to get out when it was all over. I sobered him up quick and sent him home. Other than you, Francie, Vince, Glen and the guys who were at the party, I don't think anyone else knows. I know the incident never got out. There were times when I thought Vince felt sorry about the episode. He never bragged about it."
"True." H.M. nodded his head in agreement. "He usually had tae brag about his nasty little tricks. He never uttered one word about tha party."
Lori's soft voice broke in. "I think he should have been ashamed of himself. That was a horrid thing to do to someone who cared so much about him. I don't know what I would have done if he treated me that way."
Hamish felt a cold shiver of fear creep up his spine. Lori had a temper. He was well aware of it. Again the fears he had buried regarding Vincent and Lori rose to the surface.
Nae! He refused to think she might have had an affair with Slaughter and kept it from him. She would have told him.
"Slaughter got lost in the hype." Her voice broke into his thoughts.
Needing to touch her, H.M. reached for Lori's hand. "He built ah myth about ah verra bad boy an tried to make tha myth reality. Vince was insecure, his family always overawed him. As Vince "Tha Viper" Slaughter, he had an identity. As young Vincent Slaughter, he was just an upper class slob who would eventually havtae conform tae what was expected of him by his people."
Hamish squeezed Lori's hand. "My mum wasnae like that, expecting me to fit intae some pigeonhole. I am goin tae tell you both somethin. My mum and my Da were secretly married. They had several good years together before he died. He was badly wounded in tha war, never got over it. They took what happiness they could while he was alive."
"His family wanted tae lock him up, like ah family heirloom in ah glass display cupboard, an spin his life out slowly. Mum knew he had tae live. They did everythin they could think of before he died. I was born tha year Da died. Mum and I moved. We got lost in tha city. She never wanted his family tae know where we were. She said she did not want them tae try to manipulate me as they tried with Da. I go by Mum's name. They probably think I am ah bastard an 'tis fine by me. That was why I put up with Vince's stupidity all these years. I understood what drove him."
Lurch nodded. "I knew you two were close. The Viper loved and hated you all at the same time. He probably was jealous of your relationship with your mother. Slaughter wanted to be loved for who he was, not what someone else wanted him to be. Much as I hated the ass he could be, I felt sorry for the bastard. It's pretty bad when someone has to get their kicks by being a jerk."
"Everyone deserves tae live their allotted time." H.M. sighed. "He might have learned tae behave like ah regular human being, eventually. None kens tha future. Have ye any gut feeling about who might have killed him?"
Lurch stared at him before shaking his head. "Hamish, if I knew or even had a suspicion, I would tell you. I just don't know, man. But I have a couple of people in the crew who keep tabs on things for me; I'll have them check it out."
"On other matters Lurch, I was wondering if you would like tae work with me in Glasgow, now that your contract is void. I could use you in tha studio. That is if we even get tae make tha album."
"Hey, man! Great!" Lurch's mouth curved up into a wide smile. His brown eyes glinted. "You can count me in! We'll get out of here. Keep the faith, H.M. I wonder if cutting my hair and getting some yuppie stuff would work for me? Nah, probably not. They would all spot me anyhow. There's too much of me to conceal that way. The reporters would figure it out. If I hear anything, I'll let you know. And don't worry about me shooting off my mouth."
Both men stood. Lurch gave H.M. a bone jarring hug.
Hamish patted him on the back. "I never worry about ye Lurch, you ken what ye're about."
Lori and H.M. stood side by side in the elevator holding hands. The floors zipped past with amazing speed. In the lobby they walked out the big double doors. The knot of reporters instantly came alert, eyed them for a moment, and then relaxed again. H.M. hailed a taxi and settled Lori and himself inside.
"Take us tae the beach please." Hamish instructed the driver.
Lori had always wondered why H.M. never spoke of his immediate family. After his admission to her and Lurch in the hotel, she understood. It occurred to her, his mother was no longer alive as he had referred to her in the past tense. From the sound of things he surely would have introduced them if she were alive.
Actually, when she thought about it, their relationship, their marriage had revolved around each other and their careers. The past had been firmly shut out. They were so completely satisfied with each other and the way in which they meshed, nothing else mattered. Perhaps they had unconsciously been afraid of introducing any outside influences into the mix. They were delicately balanced. Neither of them wanted to tip the scales in any direction.
H.M. was in a pensive mood, uncommunicative. Lori wasn't disturbed by his silence. Eventually, he would come out of it. That was one good thing abo
ut one artist marrying another, you could relate to the moods. You understood they would pass in time.
The beach wasn't too crowded during the week. They were able to leave the taxi and walk down to the water's edge without having to negotiate a roadblock of tanned bodies. Lori watched H.M. remove his shoes and socks.
"O.K., my turn. Now hold out your coat like this." She had him hold the jacket by the shoulders between her and the other people on the beach at just about waist height.
With one swift motion, she reached up under the dress, grabbed the panty hose and pulled them down. H.M. watched with one eyebrow raised. Lori peeled the panty hose off. Reaching over, she tucked them into the front pocket of his pants.
"Amazing." He smiled at her. "Well done. I believe ye've had experience with tha 1maneuver before."
"Yeah. I can get dressed and undressed under one blanket."
They walked along the water's edge while the waves broke to lap gently across their feet.
"Where did ye learn these extraordinary skills?" Hamish swung their clasped hands back and forth.
The warm sand felt good on her feet. "On the coast of France. I spent one lovely summer there right after I got out of school. Sometimes, I had to sleep on the beach with just a couple of blankets. Everything I owned fit in a hold-all."
He nodded. Seeing a shell, H.M. stooped to pick it up. Examining it closely for a few minutes, he passed it to her.
"I busked about tha coast of Spain for ah year after Mum died. I really have nae idea why I told ye an Lurch about Mum, Da an me. Lurch is ah good man. I think I just wanted him tae ken tha truth about Vince. I wanted one other person tae understand he was capable of other things. Tha poor bugger was just trapped by his own fears. I can trust Lurch with it. I am not sure about tha rest of tha band. We're all mates, sure,...but Lurch willna have tae tell anyone what he knows about Vince or me. I just dinna want tae see everything spread across tha front page of some tabloid."
"You've never tried to look up your dad's family?"
He picked up a pebble and inspected it before tossing it far out into the ocean. "Nae. I read through Da's journal an Mum's letters tae him in hospital after she died. I understood what sort of people my kin are an dinnae want them tae know I exist. At tha time I was tae young an needed tae belong tae much. I might never have escaped from them. I understood my limitations. I am Da's only heir, legitimately, an I dinnae care a fig for any of it."
"After all the years Mum struggled tae take care of us on her own, I've nae sympathy for their problems. She's tha reason I have my music. She saw tae it that I learned tae play tha piano correctly. Mum gave me all I've ever wanted or needed when I was ah wean. That was enough for me."
Lori reached for his arm. "You never told Vincent about your family?"
"Nae! His lot would have known exactly who my da was. Then there would have been hell tae pay. He could nae be trusted with that wee bit of information."
There was nothing for Lori to say. They continued to walk along the shore, hand in hand. The silence was companionable. Eventually, they would go somewhere else, for now it was enough for them to be together on the ribbon of sand.
They spent the last few hours of the afternoon strolling around the Huntington Estate. After having viewed the art treasures, the couple sauntered through the rose garden. Finally, they stood on the terrace and admired the broad expanse of lawn.
"It must have been really beautiful in the days before smog." Lori looked up at the sky then shook her head. "Rapid transit doesn't exist in this town. It was too important for everyone to be able to come and go as they pleased. For the sake of convenience they killed a beautiful place."
H.M. laughed. "My very own greenie radical. 'Tis ah trifle more complicated, I would guess. If ye could know what really happened, ye might be even more upset. Usually, greed played ah major part in tha story."
He laid a hand over hers where it rested on the balustrade. "Scotland is ah fine example of tha deeds done in tha name of money an power. Whole clans were swallowed up in one or two individual's quest for wealth. When we were nae being screwed by our kin, it was our kings what did tha screwing."
Fingers lean from years of playing slid in between hers. Lori's hand was completely covered by her husband's larger one. She tightened her fingers around his.
The soft lilt of Hamish's accent was a pleasure to listen to. "Yet tha land has stood tha test of time. No matter where in tha world you find ah Scot, you find someone who feels tha pull of that tiny country. 'Tis much as ah minor toothache inside. It may not be strong enough tae pull them home. Often, they can be content with ah Scottish Society, ah Burns night an their own highland games. Now an again they do find their way home. Ah cottage somewhere close tae tha lands their father's father lived on, is tha thing that stills tha aching."
"Is it really that bad?" Her eyes searched his face.
"Aye, it is. I've had one or two of them ask about home in places like New Zealand. "'Tis tha land around Loch Fyne still beautiful? It hasna been tae settled has it? Is Glasgow still grimy with coal dust? Is there work on tha Clyde?' Those are the kinds of questions they must have an answer tae. I understand their need to know."
He sighed. "Tha thought that I might be exiled forever is depressing. Homesick is what I am. I want my green hills an my rivers. I want away from here."
"Don't get upset darling." Lori turned her hand over and linked her fingers with his. "We will get out of here soon."
Hamish smiled down at her. "Aye. We'll leave in due time, I ken, but dinna blame me for being impatient."
With a grin, H.M. allowed his accent free rein. "Ah lassie, if I was tae feed ye, would ye nae take a puir mon home an comfort him?" He gave her a broad wink.
Lori's laughter chimed out over the grounds. "You know I can't resist an accent. I'm easy where you're concerned. Where would you like to go from here? It's a little too early for dinner."
"I have nae clue. 'Tis your country, yur town, luv. I've never paid it much attention. In and out was always my motto."
Arm in arm they left the mansion. Unhurriedly, the couple made their way back toward the parking lot.
"Would you mind terribly if we went to a gallery I heard about recently? I would like to see some paintings by a couple of the artists they handle. It is getting late, but I imagine they will be open to six or perhaps seven this evening. The gallery is in Marina Del Rey. There's a lot of traffic around the nightspots in the evening, I would think they get quite a bit of late afternoon business. We have a little time."
He thought about all the cities they had been in recently. Hamish wondered how many times there had been places she wanted to see, but never mentioned.
"Lead on. Tae tha gallery, luv. What type of work are we going tae view?"
She animatedly began describing the style of a new artist, whose work had recently received rave reviews. Lori was still involved in a description of the artist's work when they reached the taxi stand. She gave the cabby directions, seated herself in the cab and launched into a discourse on some of the newer developments shaking up the art world.
H.M. did his best to appear interested and attentive. She didn't need to know he was feeling slightly depressed. He wanted to play, needed to play, but Lori needed things as well. Tonight was her night.
He felt another major bout of insomnia coming on. Something nagged at his memory, something important. He couldn't quite bring it into his consciousness. That usually meant a sleepless night was in the offing.
The last few weeks were beginning to catch up with him. Touring almost always wore him down. Usually, if he could manage five hours sleep a night, he could putter along. But this tour was the worst he had experienced. The constant grating of Vincent's ill temper had his nerves on the ragged edge before Vince died.
Locking the horror into a box in his head was necessary if he was going to stay sane. Worse, he could not stop recalling the early days, the beginning, when Vince was still just his friend.
> Lack of sleep only caused more lack. There would be no help for it. He could always play with headphones on. God bless the individuals who invented headphones and the portable electric keyboard.
The gallery was located in a modern building, all steel, concrete, glass and glitter. It faced the water where the sun was sinking slowly into the horizon. Lori was inspecting the paintings she wanted to see in the company of the owner of the gallery. They were discussing the impression conveyed by one in particular, a mass of swirling graduated tones of green shot through with jagged cracks of sickly yellow. Not H.M.'s style of thing at all. He hoped it was not something Lori was going to try.
He sighed. Who was he to tell her what and how to paint? If she wished to layer paint on with a mop, he intended to keep his mouth shut. H.M. caught sight of a piece of sculpture which interested him. The last of the sun's rays glinted off the polished metal.
It was a stylized sea animal of some kind, all polished curves floating among fingers of greenish brass kelp. He reached out a finger to touch it. The figure quivered on the fine wire which held it upright. It appeared to be moving within the seaweed. Hamish liked it. It suggested movement, yet gave him the freedom to interpret it in his own way.
Lori and the other woman moved out of earshot. H.M. looked out of the window toward the sea. A forest of masts stood tall in the setting sun. He wondered how often accidents happened in the marina on the weekend when everyone was trying to get their boat out of the harbor. At this moment, all was quiet.
One sailboat moved leisurely through the harbor. H.M. could barely see the top of the mast and sails as they fluttered loosely in the breeze. It reminded him of the time Vincent had taken them both out on his father's sailboat years ago.
They had taken a short turn about the coast before taking the boat back into the harbor. He didn't even recall where the boat had been moored. Vince was afraid to hoist the sails, so they puttered around under power. The remainder of the evening was spent with several bottles of cheap Spanish wine and their two willing female passengers. He couldn't recall either of the girls in any great detail.
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