by Carly Reid
“You mean that the Santa that was in the grotto – wasn’t Bill Johnston at all? Someone killed him and took his place?”
Jessica wouldn’t have put it quite so starkly herself, but nodded. That formed the basis of her theory.
Mairead sat back in her seat, uttering a long, drawn-out “Wow.” Katie turned to her. Her voice was shaking.
“How can you be so relaxed about it? This means we were alone with a murderer!”
Jessica hastened to reassure the young woman.
“I think you were safe. The person, whoever it was, was trying to conceal their identity. You weren’t in any danger. They only had one victim in mind.”
“Unless we had noticed it was a fake, and challenged him!” Katie’s voice had recovered a little, and she instead sounded angry. Jessica took the opportunity to ask the questions she needed answered.
“Did you? Notice anything, I mean?”
Katie shook her head, almost instinctively Jessica thought, but Mairead, still leaning back, was looking off into the distance, a slight frown on her face.
“We would have said if we had noticed anything!” Katie was sounding a little upset again, and Jessica rushed to reassure her.
“No-one knew that it wasn’t Bill Johnston in that suit until very recently. In fact, it’s still only an idea. There’s no way you are to blame for anything at all, and if this is correct then Bill Johnston was already dead by that point – there was nothing you or anyone else could have done to stop it. I was just wondering if you could think back and see if there was anything – anything at all – different or unusual about Santa Claus this year.”
Katie shook her head again, although a little less vigorously this time. Mairead leaned forward.
“Katie, there were a few things, remember? Mind, we talked about them. Santa was definitely quieter than usual. You said it yourself. He mostly let the kids talk.”
Katie nodded. “Yes! That’s true! He was a lot less chatty, only said a few words – to us too. And I’ve remembered something else. He went off as usual afterwards, and we assumed he was going to the pub. But normally he would change before he left, so that he wouldn’t have to walk back up the High Street in the big red padded suit. This time he just went, suit and all.”
Jessica nodded. She now remembered Katie remarking upon this at the time. It fitted nicely with her theory. If Bill had already been murdered, and someone had taken his place, that person would have to wear the suit and the beard as a disguise – they would be unable to leave without them.
Jessica returned to her questions.
“Is there anything you can think of that might give a clue as to who was in the suit? Do you remember the voice?”
This time it was Mairead that shook her head. “I didnae really speak to him.”
Well, thought Jessica, that makes sense. She looked again at Katie.
“Only a few words, here and there. We’ve been Santa’s Elves for years, we know exactly what we are doing, greeting the weans and the parents, introducing them to Santa, handing over the gifts and keeping the boisterous ones quiet. I don’t remember much about Santa. If anything, maybe a raspy voice, as if he had a cold? But then everyone’s got colds at the moment so that’s not much of a clue. There’s been a few bugs going about.”
“What about how Santa looked? Height, weight, anything?”
Mairead answered. “Nope, I don’t think so. Looked the same as ever. The suit’s so padded, it could be anyone in there. His face was covered by a huge fluffy beard, and his hair covered by the wig. Ian Johnston and Bill Johnston are about the same height though.”
Jessica prepared for her final question, one she had been wanting to ask ever since leaving Amy’s earlier.
“Could Santa have been a woman?”
This time, neither Mairead, nor Katie replied right away. It was clear that they were giving this real consideration, and neither was rushing to deny it. Finally, Mairead looked at Jessica.
“I think it maybe could have been, yeah. Not any woman – one that was fairly tall, and with a slightly deeper voice maybe. But actually, inside that big suit – like I said, it could have been almost anyone.”
Katie nodded alongside her friend.
“OK. Thank you. Do me a favor, and don’t say anything to anyone please? These are just ideas. I don’t want the wrong person to be blamed.”
“I still think it’s Ian Johnston, though.”
“You do? Why?” Jessica was interested in the response.
Katie shrugged. “Just because. They didn’t like each other.”
“That’s definitely true.” Jessica couldn’t pin her finger on why she had misgivings about Ian Johnston as the culprit. Was it just his reaction to finding the suit? Or was there something else, something she had seen or heard that made her think that it was impossible? She searched her memory. Nothing.
“Thanks very much, guys. You’ve been so helpful. I’ll leave you to it.”
As Jessica left their table, Ealisaid emerged from the kitchen again and waved her friend over.
“Hey! I got a message from Craig! He said you found something that proved he had nothing to do with it!”
Ealisaid was beaming, smiling wider than Jessica had seen her do in days. She had clearly been very worried about her friend, even if she had maintained his staunch innocence to Jessica. Quickly, Jessica brought her friend up to speed on the latest developments and what that meant for Craig.
“So, as he was behind the bar all night, it really looks like he is completely off the hook! There’s no way he could have put on a Santa suit and gone to the Village Hall.” she finished.
Ealisaid nodded. “And do the police agree?”
“I think so. Looks like they are only interested in one man now – Ian Johnston. He was definitely in the pub at the end of the evening so he was already a suspect, especially since they found out that Bill was going to try and sabotage his latest contract. But now that he conveniently found the Santa suit – I think they must think he was actually retrieving it – and then disappeared, he has pretty much signed his own arrest warrant.”
Ealisaid must have noticed something in her friend’s face as she spoke, because her next question was:
“But you don’t agree?”
Jessica sighed. “I don’t know, Ealisaid. There’s something about the whole scenario that doesn’t sit right with me. Why go to such lengths? Why make it look as if Bill Johnston was murdered at one time when he was actually killed at another time? If it was Ian Johnston, why wouldn’t he make sure he had an alibi for the second time, instead of hanging about in the pub waiting for the body to be discovered?”
Ealisaid looked thoughtful. “Maybe something went wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Bill Johnston was found in the cleaner’s cupboard, right? The cleaner goes in to the pub in the early morning. Maybe Ian had arranged an alibi for that time but Craig had to go and get something from the cupboard in the evening, and he miscalculated.”
“Why wouldn’t he avoid the pub completely?” Jessica asked.
“Maybe he thought it would look suspicious. After all, he’s been there every Friday night for the last twenty years! Better to keep up his usual habits.”
Jessica thought this over. That made sense. It could well be true, and Ian Johnston as the murderer was still the mostly likely explanation. Although if that was the case, it was hard to admit to herself that she had been fooled by his shock over finding the Santa suit. Her conversation with Mairead and Katie had convinced her that there still could be more than one possibility. It could have been a woman inside the Santa suit.
As she bid Ealisaid farewell and moved to the door of Lissa’s she planned to cross the road and catch Reenie as she closed up for the day, so that they could walk home together to get ready for the Business Association Christmas Cheese and Wine.
As she did so she saw Samantha Johnston in her red padded coat and shiny brown boots, just cl
osing the door of The Bloom Room as she left.
Closing In
DI Gordon drove smoothly over the winding country roads that led towards Dalkinchie. He had put his lights on when they left, the afternoon being already dark enough to warrant it. Now, however, the sun had completely set behind the hills, and he was concentrating in case there were patches of ice forming on the road. Several days of cold had frozen the landscape around them, and the Detective Inspector had the car heaters on full blast. Despite this, in the passenger seat Murdo still occasionally rubbed his hands together and blew on them to warm them up.
Their lead had proved fruitless; the driver of the van that had looked so like Ian Johnston’s had taken it well, and had thanked them for their thoroughness. DI Gordon suspected he had quite enjoyed being the subject of a minor car chase. The policeman sighed. This case was ticking on, and now he had a suspected murderer at large and only a few days left before Christmas – their first Christmas as a family of four. He had so wanted to spend more time at home preparing, but the way this case was progressing, there was little chance of that.
“What now, Chief?” Murdo was, as ever, willing to take direction, and DI Gordon wished he had something more concrete to suggest. Unfortunately they were going to have to fall back on routine police checks.
“Right. Well, we shall go to Johnston’s house, to his workplace, and speak to his known associates,” he said. “And continually scan for his van, too. It’s all we can do, under the circumstances.”
Murdo nodded.
“Aye, I can definitely point oot some of his drinking buddies from the pub. And I know where he’d likely be found under the normal scheme of things. I just cannae believe he got the jump on us like that. He was right there, in The Ram’s Heid!”
DI Gordon was grim. He realized that when the news had first come through about the discovery at the pub he hadn’t taken it seriously enough, and now look what had happened. He should have gone with Murdo, not leaving the Special Constable to check out the situation on his own.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Jessica’s theory made sense. Whoever had been wearing that Santa suit had strolled in the front door of The Ram’s Heid, bold as brass, and gone to the men’s restroom. There, he had presumably taken off the costume and thrown it out of the window and left. Or, if it had been Ian Johnston, gone back to the bar. Why would he do that?
DI Gordon stopped the car to let a farmer lead his sheep from one field into another. Ian Johnston had been in the bar. If he was the culprit, he had continued drinking at the bar. Whether or not he had intended to be there when the body was discovered was unclear – he would have to ask the young bar manager again about the broken glass that had led to the discovery. If it had been someone else inside the suit, then presumably they didn’t stick around, although of course that would be impossible to untangle. Who would have been keeping track of comings and goings at the pub on a busy Friday evening in December? No-one, that’s who.
Murdo spoke up.
“Oh…here…before I left the pub, Jessica, she was worried aboot something. Young Amy, the apprentice. That was it. Jessica had this notion that Ian Johnston would think Amy set him up, and maybe he’d gone after her.”
DI Gordon frowned.
“Why on earth would he think that?”
Murdo tried to recall the details.
“It seems as if she wis the one who wis asked to check on the generator, but she called Ian Johnston instead. That’s why he found the suit, round the back of The Ram’s Heid.
DI Gordon breathed in through his nose. This didn’t make sense to him. If Ian Johnston had dumped the suit there, then he would have been retrieving it – although why he would have left it as long as this, the Detective Inspector had no idea. If on the other hand the man was innocent, and had been framed by someone else – then he supposed it was plausible he could go after the person he thought had set him up. Did Jessica Greer suspect Amy? Someone else? Who? Not for the first time, DI Gordon admired the young woman’s perspicacity. She had a way of putting things together that he found very impressive. It wouldn’t be the first time that one of her hunches had turned out to be correct, and they had to go back to Dalkinchie anyway.
The last of the sheep disappeared into the field. DI Gordon flicked on the flashing lights and sirens and pressed hard on the accelerator. If there was any chance at all that Amy Matthews was involved in this case, he wanted to get there before it was too late. They would check on her first.
* * *
Reenie was in the back shop when Jessica entered The Bloom Room. Willow, who always accompanied Reenie to work, ran over to Jessica to greet her. The latter wasn’t paying much attention, however, instead asking: “Was that Samantha Johnston I saw leaving the shop? What was she in for?”
Reenie shot her niece a suspicious look, but Jessica’s polite, interested expression gave nothing away.
“Just some enquiries, no order as yet. She asked about pricing for funeral flowers, and some more general event flowers advice as well. I found myself pitying her, poor soul.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Relationships break up, she and Bill Johnston were long separated but now she’s got to deal with all this even although she doesn’t live here any longer. She was quite sweet about him actually. Said how sad it was, how she would never have wanted things to end up this way even if she did want to strangle him quite often while they were married! That’s quite normal of course.”
Reenie gave a little laugh. Jessica didn’t join in. She found the comment in poor taste, but was aware that she hadn’t liked Samantha Johnston from the moment she saw her. Amy had described her as a snobby show-off, and so far Jessica hadn’t seen anything about the woman that contradicted that opinion. She couldn’t have killed her husband, though. DI Gordon had said she had an alibi, and Jessica had seen her with her own eyes in Gillespies during the procession. According to the restaurant manager the woman had apparently outstayed her welcome, meaning that she was there until after her husband’s body was found. Jessica may have established that it could have been a woman inside the Santa suit, but it couldn’t have been Samantha Johnston.
“We chatted for quite a long time actually, she was talking about returning to the area and the kinds of events she felt I could get involved in. She’s very well connected and quite well-off, I could make some good contacts through her if I do end up doing some flowers, so I hope she comes back and makes an order.”
“She’s moving back to Dalkinchie?” Jessica wasn’t sure why this was surprising. Samantha Johnston clearly still had friends in the area and probably now owned the electrician business outright. Why shouldn’t she move back?
Reenie looked thoughtful. “She didn’t say exactly where, just implied that she might be back in the area. She has worked as an events manager so really could put a lot of business my way. I would have to think about taking on another florist in that case. I could get a lot more done with an assistant.”
Something sparked in Jessica’s mind. She spoke quickly.
“Reenie, would you mind if I met you at the Cheese & Wine? I’ve just realized I have got some work I have to do first.”
“Work? At the newspaper office?” Reenie seemed suspicious again, but was reassured when Jessica replied:
“Yes, I am going to meet with Magnus. I was assisting him with some photography. I’ll see you there?”
“Of course, if you’ve work to do – try not to be late. I think the auction will start promptly and I want to stay only as long as I have to, then get away for an early night.”
Jessica nodded. Off she went, turning right as she left The Bloom Room, waiting until she was out of sight of the windows before pulling her cellphone out to message Magnus.
* * *
There was no response at Amy’s flat. Another dead end thought the Detective Inspector, getting back into the driver’s seat and closing the car door with more force than was necessary.
“Right.” DI Gordon stared grimly ahead, easing the car out to rejoin Dalkinchie’s idiosyncratic one-way system.
“And I did manage to speak to some o’ the other contractors at the Hydro – they say that Ian Johnston turned up there earlier this evening, but that he headed away. He said he wis planning to go to the Cheese and Wine as well.”
At this the Detective Inspector did turn to look at Murdo. “He what?”
“Ian Johnston’s going to the Cheese and Wine. He usually does, of course, both Johnston brothers always did although at times it could be awkward – you could hardly invite one and no’ the other, especially when they both ran Dalkinchie businesses.”
DI Gordon paid no attention to Murdo’s musings. Ian Johnston may well habitually attend the Business Association Christmas ‘do’, but he was not usually wanted for murder. Still, right now it was the best lead they had. If Ian Johnston was going to the Cheese and Wine, then so were they. He interrupted Murdo, who by now was reminiscing about businesses of Dalkinchie gone by.
“Constable Smith! Where is the Cheese and Wine held?”
“The Village Hall, sir!”
The Village Hall. Of course.
* * *
“Thanks for meeting me, Magnus.”
“No trouble, Jessica. I wis in the village anyway, I’ll be headed to the Cheese and Wine soon. So, you want to see the whole lot again?”
Jessica nodded. “Yes please.”
Magnus plugged in his external hard drive, and brought up the folder of photos taken on Yule Night.
“There.”
“That’s every photo you took on the night of the procession?” Jessica asked.
“Every single one.” Magnus confirmed.
“Can you sort them chronologically, starting from the beginning of the evening? And set it up so the photos are timestamped?” Jessica leaned in, closer to the screen. She could see that if they were sorted, it was backwards, beginning with photos taken at the Village Hall.