Mince Pies and Murder

by Carly Reid

  Jessica understood. She asked:

  “So what’s the situation? Why does this not stack up?”

  DI Gordon took a moment to reply.

  “The contract was awarded two weeks ago. To Ian Johnston, the surviving brother.”

  He paused to let that sink in, then continued.

  “Why would Ian Johnston murder his brother now, having successfully bid for the contract? You might understand it if it was the other way around – but we have checked and double checked the facts over the weekend. Ian Johnston definitely won the Lochside Hydro contract. His quote was substantially cheaper. Bill Johnston lost out.

  “If anyone had a motive for murder, it was Bill Johnston, not Ian.”

  Jessica reflected on this. She could understand the Detective Inspector’s frustration. Ian Johnston had been in the pub when his brother arrived, and was known to dislike him. But it was very difficult to see what he might have to gain.

  “So, Jessica, we thought we would ask if you had picked up anything else,” said Murdo. “You’ve always got your nose in something and you always seem to have it figured oot before anyone else – have you seen or heard anything that might help us oot?”

  Murdo looked earnestly at Jessica and she nodded. Well, it was true, she did know something, and she could hardly refuse a direct request to share information with the police, could she? She would explain to Reenie. It would be fine.

  “Have you spoken to Bill Johnston’s apprentice? Amy Matthews?”

  DI Gordon was the first to reply.

  “Only briefly, just to ascertain where she was on the night of the murder. She was the one that initially told us about the contract, actually, and then we verified it. Why?”

  Jessica didn’t like having to say the words out loud. Despite Amy’s brusqueness, she didn’t dislike the young woman and hated having to implicate her. However, facts were facts.

  “I think she might have a motive too.”

  * * *

  Back out in the street, Jessica reflected upon her assignment. DI Gordon and Murdo had agreed that Amy’s situation required verifying, but were also wary to be seen chasing unsubstantiated gossip. They thought that the best approach was for Jessica to try and engage her again and see if anything Margaret Mustard had said was true.

  Murdo had given her the address of the electrician’s office, but when she found it tucked down a side street, it was closed up and the lights were off. There was no notice to inform potential customers about what to do. Jessica tried the door just in case – locked. She turned around.

  Murdo had said that he thought that Amy lived in the flats – apartments – opposite the shop and Jessica decided it was worth a try. She moved across the street and found a green doorway, flaking paint, adorned with a brass number four. Beside the door, fastened to the wall was a buzzer system with four buttons and a speaker grille. The buttons were numbered but that was it – no further identification and no obvious way to tell who might live there. Jessica took a deep breath and pressed the first one.

  Nothing.

  She gave it another, longer press and then counted slowly to twenty. Still nothing.

  She pressed the second button and was about to repeat it again when there was a crackling noise and a wavery “Hullo…?”

  “Hi there! I’m looking for Amy Matthews. Is this her place?”

  “Amy? Aye, she lives in this close, hen, but you’d be better off pressing her buzzer. I don’t know if she’s in today.”

  Jessica tried to quickly ask which of the remaining two was the correct button, but it was too late, the woman had disconnected.

  Deep sigh.

  Jessica pressed the third button. This time the response was swifter – and unmistakably Amy’s voice.

  “Hello? Can I help you?”

  “Hi! Amy? It’s Jessica here…Jessica Greer. We spoke on the street?”

  “Oh, yes. Hello. Well, come in then.”

  With that, the call was abruptly ended and a buzzing noise signaled the release of the lock on the door. Jessica pushed it slowly inward.

  She entered into a dark corridor, with a door leading off on either side on the first floor. A voice called “up here!” and Jessica climbed the concrete stairs to see that it was the same on the second floor – an entryway on either side. One of the doors – painted a cheerful bright blue – was ajar, and Jessica knocked it before pushing gently.

  “Come in!”

  Amy emerged into the hallway from a room, drying her hands. She was wearing jeans and a tartan shirt today, but was barefoot and her long hair was still damp. As Jessica watched, she twisted it into her long braid which then lay over her shoulder.

  “Hi, Jessica. I’m glad you came round. I need a favor.”

  Jessica tried not to show her surprise. “What can I do for you?” Amy gestured for Jessica to follow her into a living room. It was slightly old-fashioned but very tidy, modern framed prints on the wallpapered walls incongruously hanging above the solid dark wood furniture, the large, well-padded velvety couches and thick carpet.

  The sash windows were open, just a crack, although the day outside was brisk and cold. Amy went over and closed them before coming back over and perching on the arm of the sofa.

  “I need to move this ottoman, and it’s far too heavy for me to do on my own. Would you mind helping?” She motioned towards the window, and Jessica saw the upholstered box sitting underneath.

  “Sure, no problem. Where is it going?” Perhaps if she helped, Amy would be more likely to open up to her.

  “Into my bedroom.”

  The two young women carried the solid wooden box out of the door and into the bedroom, placing it at the foot of a double bed. Jessica noticed that here, too, the furniture was outdated but the bedding and the framed art were contemporary.

  Amy straightened up. “Thanks, Jessica. Do you want a cup of tea?”

  Before waiting for a response Amy padded through to the kitchen. Jessica heard the sound of a tap running and then Amy flicked a switch. “Tea or coffee?” she shouted through.

  “Tea, please!” Jessica replied, unsure whether she should follow her or not. She settled for moving back into the living room instead, taking a seat on an overstuffed armchair.

  Amy reappeared with two steaming mugs, placing them both on coasters on the polished dark wood coffee table in the centre of the sofa and chairs. She then sat down too, on the sofa.

  “There you go. I didn’t know if you took sugar, so I’ve made it like mine – just milk, but I have sugar if you need it.”

  “Amy, I hope you don’t mind me coming round.” Jessica was hesitant as she started to speak. Amy’s response was sure and came quickly.

  “No. I’ve been half-expecting you, actually.”

  “You have?”

  Jessica was surprised. This was the last thing she’d had expected Amy to say.

  “Yes. I wasn’t entirely honest with you the other day, and knowing what I do about people around here, I know you’ll have heard contradictory stories. I thought you might turn up to get a better picture.”

  Jessica remained silent, hoping that Amy would continue. It worked.

  “You were right the other night. At the procession. Bill did tell me off, and I hadn’t actually done anything wrong so I was upset. I mean, I was a bit daft, and I probably could have worked it out, but we were on a deadline so I panicked a little. I don’t really think he was reasonable. I had already checked the connection that he fixed – I am sure it was fine earlier.”

  Amy reached over to her mug of tea, and took a swig. Jessica asked:

  “What did he say to you?”

  “Oh, just what he usually says…said. That I would have to get my act together. That I would never make it as a qualified electrician if I missed little mistakes like that. Honestly, he was annoyed because I had interrupted him getting ready for the procession. He had to untie that stupid beard, bit of a palaver getting it on and off. It was nothing I hadn’t heard before
. He was an auld grump half the time.”

  Jessica nodded, and took a sip of her tea. Amy went on:

  “I was on a countdown. Just a few months until I finish my apprenticeship with him, and could properly qualify and start getting contracts of my own. At least, that was meant to be the plan.”

  Jessica looked up. Amy’s tone was disconsolate. She wondered if Margaret’s assertions could have some truth to them. If she asked the right questions, here was her chance to find out.

  “Why, what happened?” Sometimes, simple is best.

  Amy sighed. “He was threatening to fail my final assignment. That’s the worst case scenario, and I would have had to repeat my final year. That wouldnae be so bad – I enjoy the college, and more experience is always good, but…”

  She broke off, and, looking around, waved her hand at the room.

  “This flat used to be my granny’s. I’ve been living in it since she went into a care home. She’s quite healthy really, but she couldnae cope wi’ the stairs any more and it wasn’t a great idea for her to be cooking for herself. It’s fine just now for me to stay here. My family actually live in Perth, but this is handy for me for my apprenticeship, and the college. I don’t pay any rent at the moment, but I do pay the bills and keep the place tidy, and heated and aired out.”

  That explains the decor thought Jessica. Amy continued.

  “Granny could go on for many years yet, and her savings are nearly gone. She’ll need to sell this place to pay for her care, and I was hoping I might be able to buy it from her. I’ve been saving as much as I can, and I could just about manage it when I’m qualified. If I don’t pass my final assignment though, that’s another year on apprenticeship wages. I’ll never be able to afford it on that, no matter how much I’ve saved. So not only will I have to move back home and commute, my granny’s wee flat will pass out of the family.”

  Amy sighed again. Jessica experienced a twisting of emotions. Mostly empathy – as a newly independent woman herself, she knew exactly how hard it was to survive on low wages and was indebted to Reenie for putting her up. Everything just seemed to cost so much money. Saving was hard – Jessica was extremely frustrated by how long it was going to take to get enough for the slim, lightweight laptop she wanted. This was a nice, bright spacious flat, and Amy had already done a lot to make it more modern. She could do so much more if the property was hers.

  The other emotion was guilt, creeping up on her. Amy had just presented her with a proper motive. She couldn’t ignore it. She had followed up with Amy because she had thought there might be something to report back to the police.

  And now that there was, Jessica was starting to regret her promise to assist DI Gordon and Murdo.

  As the two young women continued to chat and finished their tea, Jessica was glad that she didn’t have to speak to the police again straightaway. Amy’s story had touched her, but her motive was even stronger than Jessica first thought. She lived alone. There was no one to vouch for where she had been after the procession began on Friday night, and it was clear to Jessica that the young woman had the ability, the opportunity and a motive to carry out the crime – so unfortunately, the police would have to be informed.

  Not yet though, thank goodness. She wasn’t due to meet them again for two days. As she descended the stairs outside Amy’s flat, Jessica’s mood was delicate. Her argument with Reenie had left her with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and the interview with Amy had added to her discomfort. As she stood in Dalkinchie High Street she wondered what she might do to cheer herself up.

  Shopping and Eavesdropping

  As Jessica turned and saw the Christmas lights and the inviting displays of the local shops, she made up her mind.

  Christmas shopping. That was it. Not a big shopper normally, Jessica did have a few purchases she wanted to make for local friends. Her gifts to her family had been bought, wrapped and sent some weeks before to ensure that they arrived on time – and she had made use of delivery services, too. Nothing, however, would beat the feeling of shopping locally, just weeks before Christmas, in traditional, independently owned Scottish shops.

  She started in a small gift shop. She had bought some Celtic jewelry for her mum and sisters there some weeks before, but didn’t think that it would be the right choice for Ealisaid. Having observed her friend over many months, she had seen that Ealisaid favored unfussy styles – simple stud earrings, single strand necklaces – and didn’t really wear bracelets or rings at all. Whatever she chose, it would have to be compatible with Ealisaid’s busy lifestyle and career, which was very hands-on – no space for anything complicated or dangly.

  Jessica spent some time perusing the shelves and eventually selected a pair of rose gold earrings. They weren’t large at all, but not exactly delicate either – studs, but shaped like little teacups. Jessica loved the whimsy and thought that Ealisaid would, too. At the same time she picked up a scented candle for Mairead. Perhaps not very original, but they weren’t very close – she just wanted the young woman to have something to open from her on Christmas morning. It was scented with green tea, which was an apt choice as Mairead didn’t drink any coffee or most teas, preferring herbal blends and fruit teas.

  Jessica also wanted to get something for Reenie. She had a joint gift in mind for her aunt and Grant, but wanted something specifically for Reenie to unwrap from Jessica. She had been half-looking for some time and hadn’t quite found the right thing. However, now as she searched, she had a brainwave. She would buy her a Christmas decoration. This was Reenie’s first Christmas in Dalkinchie and it would be lovely to mark that in some way, to start a tradition that could be continued in future Dalkinchie Christmases, whether Jessica was a part of them or not.

  Jessica looked at the shelf of Christmas decorations and ornaments and found the perfect thing. A delicate little squirrel, carved from pewter and surrounded by a ring of the polished metal. It hung from a red tartan ribbon and as Jessica held it up, it caught the light. She could picture it on Reenie’s tree, itself covered in a mish-mash of decorations, some of which Jessica and her siblings had made and sent over the years. It perfectly symbolized Reenie’s move from the city to a different way of life in a smaller, more rural setting. Jessica, pleased with her choices, moved over to the counter to make her purchases.

  This was working – she did feel cheered up. Perhaps now she could speak to Reenie this evening, and clear the air a little. Both women intended to go to the Dalkinchie Christmas Carol Concert, and it would be nice to have everything sorted out by then.

  Jessica crossed the street and went into a small pet shop. She had been a regular in here since Willow had joined their family – they bought her food in bulk from here – and she didn’t intend to exclude her canine friends and family from her Christmas gift-giving. The woman who ran the shop was very helpful.

  “Hi, Jessica! Are you looking for more food already?”

  “No, I am actually gift shopping. I want something for Willow, but also a gift for Skye as well.”

  “Grant Mack’s lovely black lab? Oh, yes. Let’s take a look.”

  Jessica felt that she was now getting used to life in a small village, but still the way that everyone knew everyone else’s back story occasionally took her by surprise. She followed the woman around the shelves, and pondered over toys versus treats, or wondered whether she should go for a safe bet, a new ball. In the end she decided on a tough antler chew for Skye – the older dog wasn’t one for toys, particularly, but was able to demolish a chew quite quickly meaning that this would be a welcome gift – and a new blanket, and a soft squeaky squirrel toy for Willow. Jessica was under no illusions that this would cure Willow’s habit of trying to run after real squirrels in the park, but she was always diverted by a squeak. Plus, the toy proclaimed that it was reinforced and would be long-lasting.

  Jessica decided to make her final purchase. She had gone back and forwards on this idea, but in the end had come down on the side of going for
it. It neatly solved the problem of what to buy for her boss, as she had been struggling with this. Men were hard to buy for she felt; she had similar problems trying to find something for her dad, and in the end had settled on a tartan scarf. That wouldn’t work for Grant though – she had seen that he had a few scarves already. Instead Jessica crossed the road to Gillespies. As the name indicated, it was owned by Gillespie MacNaughton, the local laird and Chief of Clan MacNaughton. He didn’t take any part in the running of it however, hiring a team of staff to do this for him. It boasted a menu full of the finest local Scottish produce, and enjoyed a steady clientele of people looking for a treat. Jessica had only eaten there once before, to celebrate Reenie’s birthday, but Reenie had so enjoyed it that Jessica intended to buy her a gift voucher for a meal so that her hard-working aunt could treat herself again.

  The gift voucher would be for two, and Jessica planned to address it to both Reenie and Grant. She had thought of this a while ago, and kept changing her mind whether this was a good idea or not, so had sought Ealisaid’s advice.

  “Cannae go wrong.” Ealisaid had advised. “It’s a lovely restaurant, and they are friends, after all. I wouldnae worry, Jessica.”

  Jessica, however, had worried. She didn’t want to come across as too pushy when it came to her aunt and Grant’s relationship. Reenie could hardly fail to be aware of Jessica’s feelings on the matter – they had discussed it more than once.

  Jessica had never brought it up with Grant. It didn’t seem appropriate – he was, after all, her boss. But over the months since Jessica had arrived in Scotland, Grant had become a fixture in both their lives, joining them for meals whenever his caring responsibilities would allow, and occasionally he and Reenie would go for a walk together – a walk that often turned into a quiet drink.

  It wasn’t surprising that the two of them should find the other good company. In many ways they were quite similar – Reenie had left her job in Edinburgh to start a new life in Dalkinchie, and was still affected by the early loss of her husband. Grant had moved back home to take on the care of his elderly mother, leaving behind a higher-profile journalism career. He never complained, and had never once spoke negatively about his current role as the editor of The Drummond and Dalkinchie Herald, but Jessica knew that deep, down, he must be affected. He and Reenie were good for each other.