The Whisky Affair (Raymond Armstrong Series)

by Michael J Gill

  But not tonight. He had to make sure of his plan. He needed to know exactly what to do with Louisa and that ‘Uncle’ of hers, if he continued to get in the way.

  “We’re from the University of Waterloo. We make this a treat every year. Catch a game, hit the bars, and shop. Where are you from?”

  So she’d picked up on his accent. Canadians are so friendly, he thought. “Buffalo,” he lied. “Here on a business trip. I like coming to Canada to watch the Jays.” The girl nodded, now telling all her friends he was American and how it was so cool of him to follow the Jays.

  He actually detested this team. When he was just a kid in the 90s, they’d had back-to-back championships. How can we let a team from Canada win the World Series? Come on this is America’s game. The fact that all the Blue Jay players were from the USA or South America did nothing to ease his distaste. A feeling held by many Americans.

  Come on, Royals, you can make a comeback.

  At the end of the eighth inning, with the Jays up by four runs, he decided he would leave and beat the rush. He smiled at the girls as he left. “It was really nice meeting you girls. Have a great time and I hope to run into you again.”

  What he needed was some peace and quiet, so he could finalize his plans. What was it Nicholas had said, after Mitch killed Gordon? That the deal was still in limbo? He’d directed him to scare the daughter, Louisa, to death – maybe not just relatively speaking. ‘Sign the papers, you bitch,’ Nicolas Cantafio had yelled in anger over the phone. ‘If that fails,’ he’d told Mitch, ‘kill Louisa and make sure there is no chance anybody can suspect it is anything but an accident.’

  The time for talking was over.

  CHAPTER 32

  Raymond arrived in the hotel ballroom and saw Louisa at the head of the table. She appeared to be going over notes for the presentation. She normally looked rather nondescript, but tonight she was dressed in a dark navy suit and white silk blouse, with her hair tied in a ponytail. The petite, fresh-faced young lady now looked powerful and would take command of her audience easily. He was sure of that.

  He checked the guests and was happy he’d decided against a tie. Most of the men were dressed ‘smart casual’ and his choice to wear a blazer, an open-neck shirt and trousers was a good one.

  Ten minutes had passed when he realized the room was almost full and the only seat left vacant at the top table was next to him. He checked his watch.

  When he looked up, he saw Anne. She stood at the entrance door to the ballroom for a second, scanning the space, then walked in. She wore the most gorgeous long dress, which had a few of the men turning their heads as she walked down the center of the room, through the tables. She looked radiant and her gold dress, with a deep and slightly revealing V neck, was captivating. He could not take his eyes off her.

  “Hope I am not late,” she whispered to him. “So sorry about your dad,” she said as she gave Louisa a kiss on both cheeks and sat down next to him.

  Someone tapped a glass and the room fell silent.

  We are delighted to have with us this evening, Louisa Reid from the Isle of Bute Distillery,” said the MC for the evening. Louisa rose from her chair and looked out to all the guests.

  “Thank you so much for coming this evening. As many of you here tonight know, I love Canada and am happy to be here with you this evening.” Raymond saw her tears well up, but then she continued.

  “The Isle of Bute Distillery was built from scratch twelve years ago,” Louisa said passionately. “It was designed to be visitor friendly because my father always complained that the old distilleries left much hidden. Not intentionally, just because of the way they were built a few hundred years ago when they loved stairs and small rooms.” She smiled. “But on Bute, you can see the entire production, up close and personal.” She paused and looked around the room.

  “We stayed under the radar, so to speak, and refused to bring out our malts too early, often saying there was no need for a ‘young fiery malt.’ My father always said, ‘The first whisky produced and sold always sticks in the mind of a consumer,’ so he wanted it to be right. Gordon, my dad, was left a substantial inheritance from his late father – my granddad, who had owned a large wine importing company in London and had loved to dabble in several ventures.

  “My father Gordon Reid, had a vision. He loved wine, but his passion was in whisky. He bought into a share in a vineyard in Piedmont, Italy. The vineyard produced an abundance of Muscat grapes. His vision foresaw a huge shortage of sherry casks that would affect the whisky industry.

  “All you really needed to produce a great single malt scotch were ex-bourbon casks, with one to two years in a cask previously used to mature a sweet Muscat wine. He began the task of maturing sweet Muscat wine casks, already with the vision of owning a distillery. However, it was pure luck that a British mega pop star would declare Moscato to be the choice of drink. Demand for the vineyard to produce the light table wine, provided him with the cash flow necessary to build our distillery on Bute – his dream.

  “When I joined the team, it was my priority to make sure our malts had a perfect balance. I used bourbon casks for the custard, crème Brule, and vanilla tastes. The Muscat wine cask gave us spice, and more body if dried fruits were used to balance out the flavour profile – basically, we used the casks in the same way a chef uses herbs, spices, and sauces to enhance all the flavours in a dish. I looked at the blending process like a painting. I had the sketch, the outline with the bourbon cask flavours, and then I needed to fill in the details with the Muscat (Moscato) casks.

  “Thank you so much to Canada and to the people in the room tonight who’ve come all the way from New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and even BC. Tonight’s dinner is to say thank you, not only for putting our distillery on the global map, but to all single malt whisky producers. You have made single malt whisky sexy – and thanks to all of you, more ladies are drinking whisky.”

  She paused, finally, and wrapped her fingers around the glass in front of her. “To my father, who would have loved to be here this evening. Please raise your glasses. Slainte.”

  CHAPTER 33

  “I don’t know why they think James is the talker; I think Louisa did a great job with her presentation,” remarked Anne.

  “Sorry Anne, what was that?”

  “Excuse me, whisky aficionado. Are you telling me you were not paying attention?”

  “Of course I was,” he lied. He’d been lost in thought through most of the presentation. He had heard this story many times, from Gordon. He was distracted by the murder and he was conflicted about his feelings for Anne.

  His gut feeling was telling him, all seemed fine this evening. Louisa would be safe in the hotel with all her whisky friends and guests. And that he should relax…spend quality time with Anne.

  “Gordon used Louisa’s talents more in the lab and wanted his son involved. He loved the distillery being family owned and run,” he said to Anne, getting things back on track.

  “So, let’s look at the menu,” Anne said, nudging in close to share the menu.

  She smelled good, with a subtle, fragrant perfume. Her leg brushed lightly against his and came to rest. He applied just enough pressure to make more contact then looked up innocently.

  “Why the big secret about getting a divorce, when we first met at the hotel? I thought we were friends.”

  “Actually Raymond, our five years as lovers in a complicated relationship…I can hardly say we were ever ‘just friends.’ I still have strong feelings for you, even after all this time. I never believed you’d just come back into my life, like it was yesterday… Well, that wasn’t going to happen. I told you last week you were a moment-to-moment man…and now, like back then, I need a commitment.”

  “I have retired, have a small company in Stamford, and lead a normal life now,” he clarified. “My work is no longer a distraction from the important things in life.”

  She brushed her leg against his, this time with a definite sense of intimac
y.

  Raymond was so distracted by her, he could hardly focus.

  Anne changed the subject. “I guess we should look at the menu. This does sound delicious… The Bute 12 is paired with pork tenderloin, farm-raised in Ontario, with fresh peach and ginger sauce, seasoned potatoes, and green beans and almonds.”

  ***

  They enjoyed the food and whisky with hardly another word. Raymond felt happy, being close to Anne again and sharing a few intimate touches.

  “That was incredible. I never would have believed whisky went so well with food. I was half expecting the guests would be wondering when they might get a glass of wine, but they all seemed so impressed. I was,” said Anne.

  “Yes. I have been to quite a few whisky dinners in the last couple of years. Chefs love the challenge and with all the layers of flavours in a single malt, it gives them even more scope to be creative,” explained Raymond.

  “I loved the main course. The peach sauce just magnified the fruit flavour in the whisky.”

  “The last was my favourite, so rich and decadent – better than sex,” Raymond announced, smiling.

  “You would never have said that when we were––”

  “Such a long time ago, Anne.”

  “Touché!”

  Raymond grinned widely. “Seriously, it was a close call between the pork pairing and the dessert. The little Beaut is only ten years old and just the one-year finish in the Muscat cask adds body and tropical fruits to the taste.”

  “I love it when you talk sexy about whisky.”

  “Very funny, Anne. Berries were a nice complement but the pineapple sorbet worked amazingly well.”

  Louisa stood for the last time, thanking the famous Canadian chef, who received a standing ovation from the audience for the meal they had all enjoyed.

  Okay, I know enough about Bute whisky. Doubtful they will ask any questions that will reveal some staggering revelation that I need to know... I have made a decision, and what the hell – in for a penny, in for a pound. Good time to make our escape.

  Before he had time to get the words out of his mouth, Anne did.

  “I booked a room here at the hotel, quite last minute, and managed to get a large suite for an amazing price. The suite comes with complementary premium wine and scotch. I think we need some privacy, don’t you?” she offered while rubbing her foot against his leg.

  She beat me to it.

  CHAPTER 34

  Anne poured both of them a glass of wine from a bottle of Henry of Pelham Special Reserve Edition, from the Niagara Region of Canada. She moved to the window, taking in the view of all the glittering lights of Toronto. She could see the CN Tower and watched the upper floor revolving slowly, its bright red and white lights illuminating the night sky. A tourist attraction never to be missed, especially when all her family and friends from Scotland had been to Ontario at least once since she moved to Canada. Niagara Falls and the Tower were always at the top of their wish lists.

  She could feel Raymond standing behind her and felt his breath on the nape of her neck. “Are we silly being here together after all these years, at our age?” she asked.

  “I am sorry it did not work the first time around.” He kissed her gently on her bare shoulder. “I have always regretted losing you. I never did marry or have a serious relationship after you,” Raymond confessed.

  “I know your job came first. I thought I could handle it but I couldn’t stand the uncertainty and loneliness. I always thought that you would find the perfect match.” She sighed.

  “Have now,” said Raymond with conviction. “I don’t feel like the cool, detached guy I was for all those years. Right now I feel like a teenager who would like to make wild, passionate love to his irresistible woman.”

  “More than you wanted to twenty years ago?”

  “You are far sexier today.”

  “God, you still know how to charm a woman into bed.”

  Raymond touched Anne’s shoulder and turned Anne to face him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her body against his. “You had me at wild.”

  They tore at each other’s clothes, and both fell onto the bed naked. They took turns rolling over on top of each other, like wrestlers trying to pin their opponents down. Each had the pent up passion of years apart. While it may have looked more like an animalistic frenzy of spring mating, it was exactly what both had desired for far too long.

  When they were younger, they always made love slowly, gently, and with a tad too much control. Not this time, thought Raymond. This time I can be up front with my feelings and go with the flow. Finally, he could enjoy making love without all the negative thoughts from his work spinning in his head. Work had always seemed so constant.

  He made love to Anne a second time, slowly that time, and then once more in the shower before they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms. His last thought was of watching the sun start to peek through the clouds on the horizon.

  He had forgotten everything else that night. Even Louisa and Gordon – and it felt good. He needed this – more play, less work.

  Was that possible?

  CHAPTER 35

  The phone rang in Anne’s hotel room.

  Raymond woke up with a start.

  “Anne…wake up. Are you going to answer that?”

  “Nobody knows I have this room. It must be someone half asleep dialing the wrong room number.” She moaned, pulling the sheet over her head.

  He leaned over her, trying to focus on the night stand on her side of the bed. Still half asleep, he picked up the phone.

  “Mr. Armstrong?” a voice asked.

  He said nothing. How would anybody know he was in Anne’s room?

  “Sir, it’s the concierge here in the hotel. Louisa Reid is asking for you.”

  “What? Where is she?”

  “In the foyer, Mr. Armstrong. She is fine. Just a bit shaken up from the accident.”

  “Accident? Oh, shit. Never mind, I am on my way.”

  Raymond leapt out of bed, pulled on his trousers at double speed, and tried to find the rest of his clothes.

  “What’s happened?” asked Anne, rubbing her eyes.

  “Louisa has been in some kind of accident. She’s downstairs in the foyer.”

  Anne threw off the bed covers, grabbed her sweat pants and top, ran a brush through her hair, and bolted out the door behind Raymond.

  They found Louisa in the hotel lobby sitting on a large leather armchair. Her feet were propped up on the coffee table. She looked like a lost little girl. At her feet sat an untouched coffee and a brandy snifter.

  The concierge, hovering over her, looked quite relieved when Raymond and Anne appeared.

  “Are you okay? What happened?” he asked rather brusquely.

  “I’m okay, just in a bit of a shock. I went for a morning run. I love running in the morning, especially in big cities. I ran out of the hotel and headed toward the museum, enjoying the warm morning sun. There were tons of joggers out early and no traffic. It was the perfect morning.”

  Raymond decided not to interrupt. So like Louisa to ramble on, in shock or not. She would get to the point eventually.

  “Runners always slow down at intersections, right?”

  Louisa continued in a monotonic voice, her eyes wide open. I stopped at a pedestrian crossing, jogging on the spot next to a young Asian lady whose outfit was perfectly matched. Even the colour of her top matched her runners – obviously a dedicated runner.

  “The light turned green and we both waited a second before crossing. Out of nowhere a black SUV came barreling straight at us. I went into a dive, grabbed the girl beside me, and rolled across the street to the other side. The car never slowed down and it shot down a side street.

  “A young couple stopped and helped us to our feet and asked if we needed to go to the hospital. We were both okay, just a few scrapes and bruises. Someone must have called the police because they arrived just as we were ready to go our separate ways. Not much we
could tell them – it happened so fast.

  “They did take our names and numbers for their records, I guess. I took a taxi straight here. I was so scared, Uncle Raymond.” Louisa immediately went silent and shivered from head to toe.

  “Anne, take Louisa to her room to start packing. We have a plane to catch tonight.”

  “Is this connected to Gordon’s death? Has this been preying on your mind?” Anne whispered.

  It’s gotten out of hand. He nodded in Anne’s direction, forcing a smile. He squeezed her shoulder tenderly and walked towards the main foyer.

  He made a call to the one guy he could trust, a Canadian, living in Toronto, who had the special skills necessary to help him with all of this. Going to the police would be a total waste of time. He now had a clear picture of exactly what was going on and knew he needed a hacker – the best around – to break into a secure system.

  “John, it’s Raymond Armstrong. I have a problem. It has to do with the death of Gordon Reid.”

  John had worked with Raymond many times over the years. He worked for CSIS, the equivalent to MI6 in Canada. The only difference between them and his lot was that the Canadians kept well off the radar. For some reason, they had never been an inspiration for movies and TV shows, or had the bloody media scrutinizing their activities on a daily basis.

  John retired from CSIS the same year as Raymond retired from MI6 and was roughly the same age. Raymond knew he’d spent over twenty years in the service. Both had worked for queen and country. While Raymond had been somewhat active in the field, John had been the IT expert stuck in an office most days. He would search through private databases and hack into secure systems, always listening to chatter. After his retirement, John set up a consulting business as a systems analyst.