Voice in the Mist

by Nigel Cubbage

  “I gave strict instructions that you –” he began but was interrupted by Henry.

  “Sergeant, we can stand here listening to you or we can deal with something serious that Rebecca has just witnessed. I would suggest we do not have any time to waste. Therefore, please listen, as she has a plan – a very sensible and ingenious idea.” The Sergeant closed his mouth in surprise. Rebecca could not restrain a smile.

  “But I haven’t told you my idea,” she whispered to her Uncle. Henry smiled.

  “Gentlemen, I must return before I give cause for suspicion, please excuse me.” As he turned to leave he spoke softly to Rebecca, out of earshot of the others.

  “You’re going to suggest they swap the paintings over now, aren’t you?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Great minds.” His eyes twinkled as he left the room to rejoin Lord MacDonald and Simon Sibley.

  Rebecca smiled to herself. She noticed everyone else looking at her, expectantly. Looking straight at the Sergeant, she spoke.

  “We can prevent the theft of the Flora McDonald painting. The thieves have just broken into the cellar and concealed what I suspect is a forgery. They must intend to return tonight when everyone is asleep and swap this for the genuine painting. I suggest that we find the forgery and swap it now, so that when the thieves return, they in fact put the genuine one back onto the wall – thereby preventing a theft but making them believe everything is proceeding to plan. Drew and I did the same thing at Rahsaig. You could put some of that indelible powder stuff on it to be able to identify them. Uncle Henry can then go with Mr Sibley to Rahsaig and you can catch the whole gang and recover the other stolen property at the same time.”

  The Sergeant bristled and adjusted his collar. Rebecca suspected she had gone too far suggesting invisible powder, but was enjoying the look on the Sergeant’s face.

  “I will have to speak again with CID.” He left the room, tightening his tie as he went.

  “Makes sense to me,” murmured PC Lennie to Dougie.

  ***

  Rebecca took advantage of the absence of the Sergeant to slip into the study, once she was sure that the coast was clear of Sibley. She asked the butler where to find the painting of Lachlan and he had shown her in with a conspiratorial nod.

  The face in the painting stopped Rebecca in her tracks. It was like looking at a photo of Henry and, by definition, presumably also of Morgan. She had not expected such a likeness.

  Lachlan McOwan stood proud and haughty, hand on hip, a sneer on his face. At his feet lay two fierce dogs. Rebecca noticed a long, livid scar on his neck. Perhaps a memento of his fight with his brother Donald, Becca’s father? So this was the scourge of her family, the black sheep.

  “So you mean me harm, do you?” she whispered, more bravely than she felt.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  ***

  “It’s going to be a novel experience, standing back and allowing thieves to steal from the house tonight. I hope these Inverness CID fellows know what they are up to,” Angus MacDonald whispered into Henry McOwan’s ear, out of the earshot of Simon Sibley, as they prepared to depart.

  “Thank you for your kind hospitality, your Lordship,” said Sibley, coming forward to grip his hand. He cast a sideways glance at Henry as he did so. “We’re off to Dunvegan Castle now at the other side of the island. One more visit today.”

  The goodbyes completed, Sibley and Henry departed. Angus watched the car disappear down the driveway, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “There’s no danger, your Lordship,” said Sergeant Gillespie, emerging from an adjoining doorway where he had been concealed. “Everything will be captured on video by CID and thanks to our plan, the original painting will be left. Shall we go into the drawing room and run over the details?”

  Rebecca, who had emerged behind the Sergeant opened her mouth to protest at this blatant theft of her idea but closed it again under his glare as he passed by. Dougie put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  “Let him have his moment. You have to work out how to keep Morgan sweet until the cops can get to Rahsaig. You’re going to have to go back now. Once Sibley gets back there tonight, he’ll tell Morgan about finding Drew at Barradale, they’ll put two and two together and realise we know something. You’ll have to find out what Morgan’s been up to and phone Alex Lennie to tell him how many thieves are there.”

  “But once he knows about Drew, what is he going to do with me?”

  Dougie was silent. He shook his head.

  “He won’t be hanging around once he’s got what he wants.”

  “But how do they intend to get away?” asked Rebecca, frowning.

  “They’re bringing everything to Rahsaig, or so we believe, because they think it’s safe. It’s secluded, away from prying eyes. They’ve taken care of Henry and they must be planning to take care of you, me and Drew as well. And if that artist sees the Flight of the Bonnie Prince, he will know it’s his painting.”

  “And?” said Dougie, sensing she was still hiding something.

  Rebecca looked out across the gardens to the sea beyond, a faraway look in her eyes.

  “Morgan. I’ve got a horrible feeling about who he might really be.”

  CHAPTER 22 – The Bogus Laird

  In the Great Hall of Rahsaig Castle, Rebecca McOwan gritted her teeth and hugged the man she now knew to be masquerading as her Uncle Henry. “Rebecca. Why thank you – what an unexpectedly warm greeting.”

  Rebecca felt him recoil. She was thankful to relax her grip. She stood back and looked at Morgan McOwan. For the first time she noticed how unnaturally cold and empty his eyes were. So this was the black sheep of her family, the criminal mastermind. She could not believe that she had not seen the difference in this man to her Uncle Henry.

  “How long have you been back from your trip with Mr Sibley?” she asked, trying to appear as normal as possible. She clenched her fists into tight balls behind her back, to stop her hands from shaking and steady her nerves. She must not give anything away.

  “I should be asking you that question,” he replied, with a laugh that seemed entirely forced. He took off his coat.

  “I have just been out walking the dogs. Did you enjoy your little adventure in the wilds?

  I trust the Campbells took good care of you.”

  He turned away momentarily to put his coat back on its hook. As he stretched, Rebecca noticed a livid purple scar on his neck as it appeared from under his shirt collar.

  She stepped back, startled.

  “Well?” He had turned back and stood, smiling expectantly.

  “I er, yes, yes, great fun,” she said hurriedly. At that moment, Miss McHarg appeared behind her and requested his attention. Rebecca excused herself, for once grateful for McHarg. She hurried up to her room, shut the door and sat down, her mind racing.

  A new fear gripped her. Henry had warned her that Morgan was shrewd and canny.

  But the scar unnerved her for another reason. The painting of Lachlan at Lord MacDonald’s had borne a remarkable likeness to Henry and to Morgan. The scar she had just seen on Morgan’s neck was identical to that in the portrait of Lachlan. What had the ghostly figure in the cloak said to her at the lighthouse?

  I come to warn you of Lachlan. He is here. He means you harm.

  Unnerving thoughts and ideas were racing through her mind.

  Something was glinting on the window seat. Rebecca went over. It was a gold locket and chain, lying on top of one of the cushions. She unclipped the fastening and opened it. Inside was an old-fashioned portrait painting of a dark-haired woman. There was an inscription:

  For My Darling Becca from Mother

  Becca’s locket! Surely this was the locket stolen from her by Lachlan before he threw her to her death! Another sign from Siobhan?

  What else had the ghostly Becca said?

  He is the man you do not know but yet you do know.

  She had believed Morgan to be Henry,
knowing one but not the other.

  Siobhan had warned her.

  As she gazed at the locket, the idea that had seemed too far-fetched suddenly seemed entirely plausible. Morgan and Lachlan must somehow be one and the same.

  ***

  Drew crested a rise in the foothills behind Rahsaig and looked down at the castle. The dusk was gathering quickly. He had retraced his steps through the tunnel and emerged back at the Old Manse. The tunnel entrance seemed to have remained undiscovered. Using all his strength, Drew returned the stone slab to its position. Careful to avoid discovery by McAllum and the artist Godfrey, whom he had overheard talking outside, he slipped out of a hole in the wall, skirted the outbuildings and headed up into the hills away from the main path. He knew an old stalkers’ path below Ladhar Bheinn, which wound its way several kilometres through the hills to the edge of the estate. The route was little known and quite perilous in places and he had had only a herd of deer for company. He could make the journey much faster than by the route which they had taken on their journey from Rahsaig a few days before.

  A boat was chugging slowly down the loch. It seemed to be heading for Rahsaig but was still some distance off. Drew decided to go down to the castle, keeping well out of sight. He wondered if Dougie and Rebecca were back, although he had no way of knowing about recent events on Skye. He would hide, see who was about and decide what to do.

  He descended warily through the forest to the gardens. The place seemed deserted.

  When he approached the shed where they had discovered the stolen paintings, he crept up to the door. The damage had been repaired and it was closed and padlocked.

  Drew passed on, keeping to the bushes.

  Looking towards the landing stage, he saw that the boat had now arrived alongside the small jetty. He could make out four figures.

  One was securing the boat. Another followed ashore, leading a taller man by the arm. The other man, smaller and squatter, was the last to leave. Drew narrowed his eyes and then smiled. Even at this distance, the rounded silhouette and upturned nose of Simon Sibley was unmistakeable.

  The figure being led must be Henry. Drew watched as he was taken up to the castle by Sibley, disappearing around the back. The others jumped back aboard the boat. They turned inland, perhaps to rendezvous with McAllum and Godfrey up the loch.

  So, the thieves were now back, having presumably completed their business on Skye.

  Drew had to find Rebecca and Dougie. He retraced his steps through the bushes to the greenhouses in the walled garden behind the castle. He looked up at Rebecca’s window, wondering if she was in her room. No light was showing. He would try to get inside and, if she was not there, hide in her room until she returned.

  Drew passed the door to the passage outside the kitchen. As was usual, it was open. Ducking, he scrambled over to the kitchen window and pressed himself against the wall below. He stopped, listening for any sound from within. Hearing nothing, he crept inside the doorway. There was a staircase opposite the kitchen door from where he could find his way to Rebecca’s room.

  He was about to go upstairs when a door opened, throwing light into the corridor and he heard the unmistakeable tones of McHarg. She was evidently in high dudgeon about something. Drew leapt up the stairs and crouched down on the first landing to listen.

  “…Nothing was said to me about these people coming. That brother of mine will be here shortly and what if he notices anything? Everybody around here will know. I will be ruined …”

  “Then we’ll just have to make sure your brother doesn’t see anything,” said a man’s voice, which Drew did not recognise.

  The kitchen door closed behind McHarg and her unseen companion. Taking his chance, Drew went up to the first floor passageway and headed towards the East wing.

  There was no answer to his gentle tap on Rebecca’s door, so he undid the latch and tip-toed inside. The room was empty. He went over to the window seat and sat down.

  A while later, the door opened and Rebecca came in. She did not notice him at first and switched on the light on her bedside table and sat down on the bed.

  “Hi!” said Drew in a hoarse whisper.

  Rebecca shrieked and leapt to her feet.

  “Oh it’s you – you idiot, you nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought you were a prisoner at Barradale.”

  “Sorry to disappoint! Sibley thinks I’m still locked up in the tower.”

  “And why aren’t you?” asked Rebecca acidly, still recovering from the shock.

  “Anyway, Sibley is on Skye, stealing another painting.”

  “No, he’s here. I saw the boat come back. Henry was with him.”

  “I’d have seen them downstairs – are you sure?”

  Drew nodded vigourously.

  “Aye. Certain. Anyway, what’s been going on? Where’s Dougie?”

  Rebecca sat down opposite him.

  “He’s round here somewhere. There is so much to tell you. Dougie and I didn’t come back to Rahsaig after we saw you in the Tower. We telephoned Constable Lennie and went to Skye to meet him. There was this awful little Sergeant too but I’ll tell you about him later. Anyway, the plan is to catch them all at the same time back here – the police are coming from Inverness – the CID. Sibley and Morgan don’t suspect anything and think everything is going to plan. The police were waiting on Skye to watch the crooks break in to steal the famous painting there. Only we had swapped it already, not that they were going to arrest them anyway… thanks to my plan.”

  “Eh?” Drew was completely bemused.

  “It doesn’t matter – the point is all the gang are due here tomorrow and that’s when the police plan to get them.”

  “What if something happens between now and then to make them change their minds? All the stuff is in the cave at Barradale.”

  “Yes but you heard Sibley tell the Frenchmen to load it all onto a boat.”

  They were cut short by the sound of somebody in the passageway outside. Rebecca leaped to her feet and opened a large oak wardrobe. She urged Drew inside and quickly closed the door behind him. Then she sat down again in the window seat and waited nervously.

  There was a rattling at the door and the noise of the key being turned in the lock from the outside. The footsteps receded. Rebecca jumped to her feet and ran over to the door. She tried to open it but it was locked.

  “Well of all the …” Furious, she banged on the door and shouted. She heard muffled tones from inside the wardrobe and went back to let Drew out.

  “They’ve locked me in! How dare they?”

  “Us, Rebecca, although they didn’t know I was here.”

  “Why lock me in, though? What has happened? They must know something, perhaps they found out about you escaping.” Rebecca looked at Drew. He was lost in thought.

  “Damn,” he said quietly. “This really blows it. How are we going to get out and warn anybody now? We have to let the cops know, somehow.”

  They sat down in the window again, at a loss for a moment. Suddenly, Rebecca let out another startled yell and pointed over Drew’s shoulder. He turned quickly.

  There was a face at the glass outside, staring in at them.

  “Let me in!” Dougie’s muffled voice called at the instant that Drew recognised his brother. He undid the window latch and helped him inside.

  Rebecca closed her eyes, disbelieving.

  “Flamin’ Campbells! What is it with you two, scaring the wits out of me this evening? And how in heaven’s name did you climb up here?”

  “Evening all,” said Dougie, softly. “I used the fire escape. It’s hidden in all the creeper just here.”

  “Great!” said Drew. “Then we can all get out of here.”

  “Why don’t we just go out through the door?” asked Dougie.

  “Because they’ve locked us up. Well, Rebecca that is, they didn’t know I was here too … but I am … as you see.”

  Dougie looked at his brother in bemusement.

  “Yeah – we
’ll get to the issue of you going AWOL at the castle later.”

  “Nice to see you too, bruv,” smiled Drew, sweetly.

  “Boys, boys! Let me fill you in.” Rebecca rapidly brought Dougie up to date.

  “I think I can guess who your jailer is,” said Dougie. “I had to duck to avoid being seen through the window just now. McHarg was in the corridor.”

  “I bet she’s the mole in the camp Uncle Henry was talking about,” said Rebecca, her eyes glaring with contempt. “Traitor! I always thought there was something about her.”

  Drew interrupted her.

  “That would explain what I overheard downstairs. She was worried about something being discovered that would ruin her reputation.”

  “Right – we need a plan,” said Rebecca, sitting down again in the window seat.

  “We have to get back to the cave and find the stolen mask and collar – the police mustn’t find them. I have to put them back in the Sanctuary. And we have to make sure nothing happens that disrupts the thieves from meeting up here tomorrow. And, last but not least, somebody has to get to Uncle Henry and telephone the police. It’s important that everybody knows what’s going to happen when.”

  “Right,” said Dougie, getting to his feet. “You and Drew will have to go to the cave – only you know the way in. I’ll get to Henry. He isn’t going to be too pleased I’ve let you go off into the night but let me worry about that one. You have about an hour of light left. Rebecca has to be here in this room when they unlock it tomorrow, which means you won’t have time to hang about out there. They don’t know where Drew and I are, so we don’t matter so much.”

  “Then there’s no time to waste,” said Rebecca, opening the window and beckoning Drew through it, with an exaggerated bow.

  CHAPTER 23 – Moonlight Run

  Dougie was the last to leave Rebecca’s room. As he swung through the window and onto the balustrade outside, grasping the iron ladder concealed in the creeper, he was careful to leave the window slightly open to permit their return.