The Whisky Affair (Raymond Armstrong Series)

by Michael J Gill

  “Good wine pick with the food. Who is the producer?” Raymond asked her.

  “Vignobles Quiot.”

  “Not familiar with them.”

  “A fantastic, independent family-owned producer.”

  The waiter brought the wine. Kate nosed it gently above the glass, moving from side to side, then announced all was well. The server poured two generous helpings into their glasses.

  “I was so sad to read about Gordon’s death: I know how close you two were.” She squeezed his hand gently and looked concerned about what he would say next.

  “Let me get straight to the point and work backwards. You, of all the people I know, would also have picked up on something weird in the details of Gordon’s death, being in the industry.” He explained all of his findings in Gordon’s office, along with many of the theories and thoughts that had buzzed his brain over the last few days on the Island.

  “I picked up the empty whiskey glass that I found in his office – sniffed the glass. It was definitely the peatiest expression the distillery ever released,” he exclaimed in closing. “Gordon detested peaty whisky and only his daughter and I knew about his secret aversion. He would drink it in public of course, but never for personal consumption…and certainly not on his own in his office where his favourites lined the shelves.”

  “Why on earth would he detest peaty whisky? He was the owner of a distillery, after all.”

  “Well, actually I don’t appreciate malts that are over 40 phenols per million either. Many drinkers in the world obviously love them, but those high phenols are not for everybody.”

  “Point taken, but why in Gordon’s case?”

  “He lost a girlfriend – his very significant partner actually, when they were students at university. He came home to find their flat on fire, with Elizabeth trapped inside. The fire service did all they could. Apparently Gordon just steamed into the building to save her, but to no avail. Just the smell of smoke was bad enough for him after that, never mind tasting it.”

  “Wow!”

  “Funny, I was reminiscing about when we were kids while I was in Haworth the other day. We were both train spotters and back then he loved the smoke from the trains.”

  All the emotions he now felt were almost overwhelming.

  Raymond breathed a sigh of relief, when their beautifully plated meals were placed in front of them and their glasses filled. It was difficult to talk so he focused on the delicious meal.

  “This must be so difficult, almost alien for you being so personally involved with a mystery like this. Normally you are so detached. Let’s return to the facts and delve into your gut feelings on all this. I want to help,” said Kate softly.

  “I know. Actually, I am so used to being in control, this emotional response is quite odd for me.”

  “Are you okay?” She touched his hand in a gesture of support.

  “No, I’m not okay. This is the first time in my life I have been knocked off my routine… What with my parents going into a retirement home and my best friend dead…? Since my ‘retirement of sorts,’ I have come to value my friends and family so much and have been trying to catch up for lost time. I had planned to spend a lot more time with Gordon.”

  “Sorry Raymond,” she said reaching out to hold his hand again.

  “Hey, what do we have here?” said Phil, laughing.

  “Kate, meet my old friend Phil – the chef and owner of this fine establishment.”

  “Did you enjoy your meal?” he asked her.

  “Excellent and no wonder you’re so busy.”

  “How was the funeral?” asked Phil, concerned.

  “Emotional, to say the least.”

  “Anything you ever need, just let me know.” A waiter approached Phil and Phil apologized before leaving. “Nice seeing you both.”

  Good to have friends close by, but I imagine finding Gordon’s killer will end up my responsibility. I will find the bastard; you have my word, Gordon.

  CHAPTER 26

  “So what is your conclusion?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” Raymond whispered, grabbing Kate’s arm.

  Kate took three deep breaths. “Right; let’s look at this logically. Why would Gordon be under stress that could cause a massive heart attack and why was he drinking a whisky he detested and alone in his office when his favourites were right there?”

  “Something was troubling him. But he had stopped drinking excessively – that I know for a fact,” Raymond explained confidently.

  “Think harder Raymond. You knew him and were just up there. Say whatever is on your mind and I will try to fill in the blanks. Drink more wine and relax. You are letting your personal feelings cloud your judgement. Don’t you like the hint of coffee on the back of the palate on this wine? Spicy and fruity on the mid-palate, don’t you think?”

  He took a sip. “Delicious, and a plummy fruit on the front to mid-palate.”

  “Good job, whisky guy.” She nodded.

  “What are the grapes?”

  “Mainly Grenache. They give the wine the fruit forward characteristics. Some Syrah and Mouvedre.”

  Raymond took another long sip. “Very nice and I am starting to feel more relaxed. So much on my mind lately… Hey, glad you could have dinner with me tonight.”

  “That’s what good friends are for. Now continue,” Kate said, clearly anxious to hear more.

  “Well I am saving my only solid clue for last. Your area of expertise actually. I went to Gordon’s favourite spot on the Island…” Raymond described the area and the background explaining why Gordon’s family considered it so special.

  “A letter from a solicitor? How intriguing. So just the top left hand side with their name and ‘Dear Mr. Reid.’ What about the date?”

  “Last week.”

  “You’re right. This is something to do with the distillery – it has to be,” Kate said while pondering the possibilities. I wonder how much Gordon’s distillery’s worth. There are a lot of takeovers of distilleries at the moment. Single malts and craft beer are top growth trends in the drinks industry. Wine has trailed off.”

  “I would have no idea about its value but I do know Gordon would never sell. He always emphasized it would stay in the family.”

  “I agree with you regarding the worthiness of Louisa, but from what you have told me about James, I would not be too sure he was a good candidate for ownership.”

  “Yes, James is rather an oddity, rather sulky and well – I find him sneaky. He goes around the world with a video presentation of the distillery that he produced himself. He spends company money like it’s going out of style and apparently Gordon had words with him because his expenses were so high.”

  “Money,” she said, writing the word down on a napkin. “The root of all evil.”

  At that, Raymond’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Hold that thought.”

  It was Louisa. “Uncle Raymond, I just had the worst row with James. My brother is such a loser. Anyway, I wanted to let you know about the event tomorrow night, in Stirling. I know Dad wanted you to come along with him. It’s sold out but were you still hoping to go?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “Okay, I will leave a vendor badge at the door. You may have to help me pour whisky when I get busy.”

  “My pleasure,” Raymond assured her and wondered how she was dealing with all this. “What else do you have going on? You should take some time off – to process… I mean so soon after all this”

  “Carry on, Uncle Raymond. I’ll run the distillery. If I focus on work it will take my mind off losing Dad. Its what Dad would want.”

  “And James?”

  “He’s heading back to the USA. This is the last month of busy events until things quiet down in the summer.”

  “What has James said about losing your dad, the future of the distillery?”

  “Move on, sis. He thinks we should get out of the business.”

  “Charming. So, what comes after the Stirling event
?”

  “Toronto. I can’t miss Canada. We have worked on that event for almost a year. The Internet’s three leading whisky ladies will be there and we’ve planned all sorts of events – ladies only – and all those are sold out.”

  “May I tag along to Toronto too?” Kate’s assumption immediately came into his mind: that money is the root of all evil. Would someone, whoever was responsible for murdering Gordon, try to hurt Louisa? He could not take the chance they would not…

  “All the way to Canada. Are you sure Uncle Raymond?”

  “Actually, I have a lot of friends in Toronto I have not seen for far too long. I need a break from Haworth and Stamford. And I agree, we need to keep busy and not mope around.”

  “Okay, of course having you along will be nice company for me. Keep me focused. Remember though, ladies only at most of the events in Toronto.”

  “No problem.” Raymond placed his phone back down on the table.

  “Well, I caught some of that. Going on a trip?” Kate asked him.

  “Yes, Toronto. It will be fun. I have never been there as a tourist. Only on business.”

  Kate had known Raymond a long time. She looked into his eyes. “Anyone in particular you might visit in Toronto?”

  “I met my old flame on the Island, the other day. Raymond described their chance meeting, the dinner, and saying good-bye the next morning. He never dreamed he’d run into her at the funeral or find out she was getting a divorce and moving to Toronto.

  “Wow! Anne, the one that got away? It’s been years since you mentioned her.”

  “To be honest Kate, I thought it best to forget her. But I never could. I always compared other women in my life to her. They were never quite as special to me. Now seeing her again…”

  “And?”

  “My feelings are stronger than twenty years ago. She is absolutely stunning, smarter, and fun to be with.” He paused, shook his head.

  “If I may interject,” said Kate, “I think you have been given a second chance. What could possibly be holding you back? Second chances don’t come often in life. Take it.”

  You’re right I will, once I find who killed Gordon…”

  Kate looked at Raymond for a few seconds. Studied him intently.

  “You think Louisa could be in danger, don’t you?”

  “No question!”

  CHAPTER 27

  Raymond drove to Scotland on a dreary afternoon and arrived in Stirling to a persistent light drizzle – the kind of rain that makes you feel cold and damp. He paused to admire the fabulously renovated railway station in Stirling, while his Sat Nav was advising him to proceed. The trip from Yorkshire had been uneventful and he marvelled that Scotland could build an effective motorway system while England had not.

  He had spent the trip replaying the previous night’s conversation with Kate, followed by the phone call from Louisa. He believed Gordon’s death had something to do with the distillery and its value in the future. Still, Raymond couldn’t think of any other time someone had gone to the lengths of killing the owner to acquire a relatively small company.

  Unless it was family… Maybe James needed to bump off his dad to gain control. Still, that only gave him fifty percent unless Louisa was in on some plot with her brother. Couldn’t be, he thought. But, after talking with Kate, his mind was clear on one thing: He needed to stick to Louisa like glue and keep her in his sights at all times. If someone planned to make a move, it would likely be on her.

  Raymond continued and paused at a set of traffic lights where he could see the castle looming on the top of the hill. Stirling was preparing to be the political capital of a new independent Scotland if the vote went as expected.

  Stirling had been the home to William Wallace, an iconic legend in Scotland. Thinking about the Battle of Stirling Bridge Raymond was again reminded of Gordon’s father, the prominent Knights Templar who told stories to a very excitable little boy. Gordon had loved his father to death.

  Raymond had always been fascinated by historic battles, where the underdogs won. Against all odds, a small band of men would defeat a large army. He had studied many of these battles, and had wondered if, on the odd occasion, God took sides.

  One of the stories Gordon’s father relayed several times, was about the Great Siege of Malta, in 1565. The Ottoman Empire invaded the island of Malta, the defensive position held its ground with only 500 Knights. In spite of the small brigade of knights and only 2000 footman, they eventually defeated 25,000 battle-hardened Turkish troops.

  The battle of Stirling Bridge was quite similar, where the Scots were outnumbered ten to one and yet defeated the English with ease, killing over six thousand English soldiers. Raymond learned from these stories that it’s not just about the numbers, but about executing the right plan – or you pray that some unknown force provides a large dose of inspiration.

  It had been quite some time since he had visited Stirling and he was astonished at see all the new hotels, restaurants, and shopping centers. In the recent past, this was a town full of tourists in the summer and dead by winter.

  He reserved the last room available at the hotel that was hosting the whisky event and booked a seat on Louisa’s flight for the next day – from Glasgow to Toronto. He would inform Louisa of his plans when he met her that evening.

  He drove through the center of the town, pausing to look at the new parliament building with the Scottish flag, presumptuously proudly flying.

  When Scotland came close to becoming an independent country, Stirling had really come to life. When Scotland voted to separate from England, voting had been close right down to the wire. In the last week leading up to the crucial vote, it was speculated that the vote would be at least 52% in favour of an independent Scotland.

  During the final vote, Raymond was reminded that any close vote always put the definition of democracy under personal debate. Bush had won in 2000 though he’d lost the popular vote. More US citizens voted for Gore – and yet Bush came away with more seats. Ridiculous, that that could happen, especially when one considered how different both candidates were in their beliefs.

  At least, Scotland chose to ask all of its citizen what they wanted with one simple question: Do we stay or do we go? As it happened, Scotland had a phenomenal ninety-seven percent turnout at the polls. And when it came right down to it after the ballots were counted and recounted, a six percent margin was all that separated the vote. He wondered how much unrest there would be, because instead of the projected fifty-two percent decision in favour of Scotland separating from England, fifty-three percent voted ‘no’ to separation. We will see, he pondered.

  Sterling’s surge in activity might wan over the next several months, but for now, it remained a bustling center.

  Tonight’s whisky event was being held at the newly renovated 5-Star Highland Hotel. The Highland Hotel was located in the city center and within easy walking distance of all amenities. The original hotel was built in 1854 and keeping to the city’s mandates, any renovators kept the façade intact and the interior comparable to anything London could offer. Several years earlier, the hotel took over the entire block to build a conference center and the new addition actually looked like it belonged to the original structure.

  Curious to see the interior of the hotel, Raymond walked through the main doors and asked the concierge where he could find the venue for the evening’s whisky event. The hotel lobby was spectacular – polished marble floors with high, arched ceilings. The furnishings were modern and tasteful. Luxury at its best.

  He made his way to the grand ballroom on the promenade floor overlooking the lobby. Many of the whisky producers were busy setting up tables for that night’s tasting. He knew from experience with his whisky club, that there was a great deal of preparation that went into an event and this one was a premier event in Scotland. It was on a grand scale and none of the exhibitors needed to be distracted by him being nosy. His goal for the night would be to keep an eye on Louisa.

 
Raymond returned to his hotel and ordered room service. He called Louisa who told him that the event started at 7:00 and suggested he arrive early.

  CHAPTER 28

  He arrived early, as requested, picked up his large exhibitor’s badge, placed it around his neck, and looked around for Louisa. He found her making minor adjustments to the distillery displays, checking the tasting notes next to the relevant single malts. The large banner behind the table looked great with the slogan: WHAT A BEAUT!

  While waiting for the event to start, he wandered around looking at all the whiskies – a true spectacle in his eyes. He noticed ‘Brand Scotland’ was the center piece, with all other countries on the periphery like a moat surrounding a castle. No doubt that was the intention, he mused. There seemed to be more countries making fine single malts than he could have foreseen a few years earlier: England, Wales, Canada, USA, India, Tasmania, and Japan.

  He came across an interesting table showing a variety of old single malts. What may I get you sir?” said the young man eyeing Raymond’s vendor badge.

  “Well what a choice… I really have no idea.”

  “Who are you representing at the show?”

  “The Bute Distillery. I am Louisa’s uncle,” Raymond told him.

  “Oh, I am sorry to hear about Gordon Reid. What a loss to our industry,” the young man said, his smile sympathetic.

  Gordon nodded.

  “Try this.” He poured a large sample into a glass and handed it to Raymond.

  “What is it?” Raymond was surprised by the deep, rich dark amber of its appearance.

  “A Mortlach 34, sir. Please enjoy. My compliments.”

  Raymond nosed the Mortlach and carried it around the room, cradling it like a newborn baby.

  He looked at his watch as the doors opened and a large crowd of people entered the room. It was 7:05 and when he looked at the Bute table he could not believe his eyes. The table was so packed with eager whisky fans he could not see Louisa at all. Had something happened to her? As he moved toward the table, she came into view, pouring whisky like a bartender on a Friday night in a busy London boozer.