by EJ Lamprey
‘She has a bit of a thing for you, my pet. She’s not about to dilute the “brave little woman on her own” image with sultry lovers.’
‘Nonsense.’ He flushed and looked uncomfortable. ‘She flirts with everyone. Look at the way she was flirting with Donald last night.’
‘Please don’t.’ Donald stood up and stretched. ‘It’s not something I care to remember. I wish now I’d cut her short instead of politely letting her enjoy herself. I don’t care for actresses, and I really don’t care for actresses who turn on people who’ve done nothing but try to help them. I’m away to my leather club. Anyone want to come along?’
Brian looked appalled, Vivian giggled and William looked wistful.
‘I’ve been to some amazing leather clubs in my time,’ he rumbled reminiscently. ‘That one of yours, from what you’ve told me, is a bit too sedate, Donald. No leather-framed tits and bits, no sad little people getting their rocks off with BDSM.’
‘No, we stand around gleaming and looking beautiful,’ Donald agreed complacently. ‘I’ve never really been into all that seedy stuff you filled your life with. I could take a maiden aunt to this place—if she had the right gear, of course. Edge, how about you? Not that I’m calling you a maiden aunt, but to really round out your day? Patrick told me tonight you had a leather outfit which would make even my jaded eyes pop. He said he sent you a reminder photo as his birthday card.’
Vivian hooted with laughter. ‘She does! I’ve got photos too!’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Edge went pink, not daring to glance in Brian’s direction. ‘Don’t forget I also have photos, Vivian. Your Rizzo outfit was at least as eye-popping. Anyway, I’m not sure I could still get into it, but that party was a lot of fun.’
‘So was tonight. As you-know-what celebrations go, it was probably the best I’ve been to. Well, okay,’ Donald put a friendly hand on Edge’s shoulder and patted, ‘it was the first. But it set the bar high. Now I shall put the circus behind me and go play with some grown-ups.’
The shortlist of suspects
Brian found Edge in her private section of garden shortly after two, and sat down on her bench, light beer in hand.
‘I’m taking a break from sleuthing,’ he told her, and reached into his pocket for one of his cigars. ‘Just for the moment I’m all sleuthed out.’
‘You sound like a plumber with a lisp,’ she smiled up at him from her weeding. ‘Did you learn anything yet, oh mighty professional detective?’
‘Well, I found out why Tim’s funeral is on Tuesday. I have a working hypothesis, anyway.’
‘Oh?’ She shook off a handful of sticky-grass and stood up, one hand to her back as she straightened. He patted the bench next to him invitingly.
‘Well, Watson, the junior branches of the family may be millionaire music executives, but the senior branches are landed gentry. And Monday is the twelfth.’ He shook his head as she looked puzzled and sat next to him. ‘This is where you clap your hands and look amazed, not surprised.’
‘Okay.’ She clapped her gardening gloves together obligingly, dislodging some loose earth onto her hideous old jeans. ‘Although Watson usually does look surprised, and Holmes usually explains.’
‘True. Well, the twelfth of August, in the country set, is also known as the Glorious Twelfth.’
‘The start of the shooting season. Got it.’ She looked annoyed with herself. ‘So they didn’t want a little thing like the only son’s funeral to disrupt their day.’
‘Not quite, darling. Well, probably actually yes. They do sound a fairly foul family. But the point is, most of the family friends would be busy on the Monday with shooting parties, most likely paid ones, set up months ago. And they may have a family party themselves, which would be very handy for the Tuesday. Everyone already on the spot.’
‘Well, that’s very clever of you, but I don’t see that it gets us any further forward.’
‘Neither do I.’ He sighed and drank more beer. ‘I did find that Tim’s father has an ancient but fairly obscure title, which will now, in default of male issue, eventually go to Uncle Tobias. That does give Tobias a great motive to knock Tim off, except that he could probably buy himself a better title twice over, but none whatsoever to target Fiona and Fergus. He couldn’t even have been worried his brother would put Fergus in the will, because he’s the only one with money. He’s been propping up the family fortune for years. The family has a lovely place in Perthshire but it’s entailed, couldn’t go out of the direct line. Again, motive to get rid of Tim, but only Tim.’
‘I thought I heard voices.’ Donald, with his whippet on her lead, came into view round the hedge. ‘Have you learned anything? I’ve been walking Odette, I’ll just put her away. Unless you prefer to be alone?’
‘No, join us. Brian’s actually pretty nearly as good as he thinks he is, this is interesting stuff.’ She picked up her gardening things and put them neatly to one side and waited for Donald to return and be brought up to date before she asked Brian, ‘Did you get a chance to look into the other people left in the tontine?’
‘Nothing very likely there, either.’ He blew a cloud of cigar smoke into the air and she waved a hand in front of her face absent-mindedly, once again feeling that melting confusion between her long-dead husband and her lover. ‘Sorry.’ He held the cigar away from her. ‘James’ sister is eighty-four and in a nursing home, but there’s no shortage of funds at all. The opposite, in fact. She’s very well-to-do, although unlikely to be able to travel to the next dinner.’
‘She didn’t look that chipper at the last,’ Edge agreed. ‘She still emails me regularly. Her mind is as sharp as ever but she says getting around is a bugger. Her word. John Henry will be able to authenticate her as they both live in Oxford now. That’s assuming John is going to be able to make it?’
‘Yes, but he’s also financially sound. Not saying he couldn’t enjoy a few extra thousand a year, but he doesn’t need it. Same with the others. None in financial difficulties, and more to the point, none in Scotland. There was one coincidence I spotted, though. Your husband’s PA—her surname’s Fraser.’
‘Patricia Fraser, yes. She worked for him here in Scotland, went out to SA to help him start up there, and came back with us when we had to return. She retired to Cheltenham, didn’t she? He trusted her implicitly; said she was the most efficient woman he ever met.’
‘It’s a common surname.’ Donald was looking at Brian, slightly puzzled.
‘Aye, very common. But she has a brother named Gerald. And while there are lots of Gerald Frasers, I thought that might be worth looking into.’
Donald held up a warning hand, and took a step back from the hedge so he could look into the next miniature garden. ‘Garden’s looking good, Miss P. How are the herbs coming on?’
‘Oh, thank you, Donald. Ay’m quite pleased with the summer crop. Ay didn’t realize you were there.’
‘Just chatting to Edge and Brian,’ Donald said gently. ‘Actually, Brian came across someone you might know. Does Gerald have a sister?’
‘Well, Ay think he does, you know.’ Miss P sounded very slightly breathless. ‘When Ay knew him before, years ago, Ay think Ay remember him saying he had a sister who had emigrated. Canada, if Ay remember rightly. Ay never thought to ask after her when we met up again, Ay really should.’
‘It would be a coincidence, wouldn’t it? Such a small world.’
Brian and Edge moved quietly away to her verandah and Donald joined them a minute or so later.
‘You have to check every hedge in this place,’ he remarked. ‘The place is stiff with eavesdroppers. I was on the phone the other day, turned round and Clarissa was so close behind me I nearly knocked her over.’
‘Oh!’ Edge suddenly remembered the story Vivian had told her of answering Gerald’s phone, and frowned.
‘Something you’re not telling us?’ Donald prompted, and she nodded.
‘Something I can’t tell you. But I think it’s okay to say that the
police want to trace a woman with an Edinburgh accent who answered a phone linked to the case. And Gerald was really annoyed with Vivian for answering his phone. Possibly around the right time, I’ll have to ask her. And he knew what a tontine was, although relatively few people do. And he near as a toucher ran the killer over, but to be fair anyone on the same road as Gerald is in mortal danger. As you said, lots of people called Gerald Fraser, it could be completely a coincidence. I mean, Gerald! Not exactly the type to hire a hitman.’
‘Still, if it is Gerald, I’d feel much happier.’ Brian tossed his cigar stub into Edge’s weeding trug, and thrust his hands in his pockets. ‘Even if it meant someone could try to kill you next, darling. You’ll have to move into number twenty for the duration, so as to be safe with me. Kirsty will be keeping alert, Jamey’s safe in hospital and no-one could get at Fiona at the Murdoch place. But if it’s the Murdochs, Fiona’s in direct danger.’
‘Well, I think the whole case has changed with this Edinburgh woman entering the picture,’ Donald shook his head. ‘It looks to me like it was Edge after all.’
‘Oh, funny. So where do we look next?’
Donald stopped teasing. ‘I think you phone the polis—preferably Kirsty’s Iain McLuskie—about the Gerald link and ask him to check it out. Nothing we can do about that. And then. . .’
But at that point he was interrupted by the arrival of Kirsty’s ex-boyfriend.
Enter Rory, stage left
‘Hey, Edge.’ Rory, more broodingly handsome than ever, cut across the grass towards her verandah and was introduced to Brian and Donald, shaking hands languidly. ‘Thanks for that intro. Matilda got me signed with Spinner, didja ken?’
‘I heard last night. I’m pleased for you. So, big party tonight?’
‘Aye.’ He looked sheepish. ‘I gotta dress up as a famous singer, we all do. Sa secret, I cannae tell you who I’m to be, not happy but. Matilda said to come through, she’s got some record covers I can look at so’s she can explain why she chose him.’
Edge narrowed her eyes to look at him assessingly. ‘Do you have to sing? You could do Engelbert Humperdink. Sideburns and all.’
‘Hey, no, he bombed at Eurovision. And he’s dead old.’
‘What did you want, Rory?’ Edge remembered how boring she had always found Rory, and lost interest in the conversation. ‘Matilda’s in number two, right next to the house.’
‘Oh aye, ken. I thought mebbe Kirsty would want to dress up as one of the band and come along the night. Two of the band cannae make it, and it’s kinda the biggest party of the year.’
‘Oh, Rory, I told you, she’s with someone else now. Not going to happen.’
‘Two passes to get in?’ Donald looked interested. ‘I’d go for that.’
‘Dress up as a girl singer?’ Brian asked doubtfully, and Rory sniggered.
‘Nah, it’s the drummer as well as the back-up vocals. Nae worries, come along to Matilda’s,’ he told Donald. ‘She’ll find you someone to dress up as there. I got until five o’clock to let them know, for the security to let us in at eight. We got a Cher wig back at the dressing room—nah, nah, I didn’t mean go as Cher. But you could use the wig, ken, to go as Ozzy Osbourne, or Alice Cooper. Wicked makeup.’
‘I should be slaving over a hot computer.’ Brian stood and offered Edge a hand up. ‘You coming with me, to mop my fevered brow?’
‘Will you get on with any work if I do?’ She smiled up into his face and he grinned and shook his head. ‘Then I’ll go along to Matilda’s and see what ideas she has for turning Rory into a Seventies heartthrob. Just my era.’
She brushed off her awful gardening jeans, left her gauntlets and gardening hat in her trug, and shook her hair out prior to twisting it up again, not making the neatest job of it. Donald tutted and took her pins from her, pushing them swiftly into place as she stood meekly. Brian sighed and came along too, and once again she felt the tiny flutter of irritation. Yes, she had been lonely and wanting someone to share things with. But it didn’t have to be everything . . .
~~~
Matilda’s neat little apartment had been turned upside down in her search for icons, and she had disinterred an impressive pile of vintage LPs. She had a superb sound system—unsurprisingly—and music from Edge’s teenage years was thudding evocatively as they crowded in. She thought Rory’s idea of Alice Cooper was excellent, and produced a cover that showed the singer’s trademark makeup clearly.
‘He’s easy to copy, and that photo shows the hair well, a Cher wig will be just the thing. And Edge, for you:’
‘I can’t sing,’ Edge said hastily at the same time as Rory suggested Bonnie Tyler. Matilda shook her head emphatically.
Edge giggled. ‘I have a blonde wig, and a leather outfit—the Sandy outfit, from Grease. Bonnie Tylerish enough?’
‘You don’t have enough curves,’ Brian pointed out, then patted her bottom lightly. ‘Not yet, anyway. If that leather outfit fitted you a year ago, old girl, it would be quite indecent now. Private viewing only.’
‘Edge looks all the better for a curve here and there. And I really want to see this famous outfit.’ Donald’s eyes gleamed with fun. ‘Butt out, Brian.’
‘Hang on, has to be real singers, not film characters,’ Rory objected. ‘Madge wanted to be Bonnie Tyler, that’s why I suggested it, but she had a hospital thing she couldn’t change, she’s raging. Not sure meself she coulda pulled it off. Mebbe at a push, with a corset and a following wind,’ he added reflectively and Edge, remembering the backing singer’s overlapping curves, snorted with laughter. ‘Nah, you’re right. She near killed me when I suggested Mama Cass, but.’
Brian shot Donald an unreadable look, then looked back at Edge. ‘Anyway, you can’t go to the party.’
‘I know, Brian. Even with those extra few pounds you never shut up about, I’d never get away with being Mama Cass. But Rory, Kirsty’s the same size as me. What were you thinking for her?’
‘I put her on the list already as Blondie. With a wig,’ added Rory, master of the obvious.
‘I think Edge could do a very effective Debbie Harry, with the right wig and makeup,’ Matilda said mildly. ‘Your faces aren’t that unlike. And to be honest, Brian, I don’t think Tobias Murdoch would have a clue whether Edge was Madge or not. I doubt they’ve even glanced at anyone else in the band. I don’t know where we’d get a costume this late, although it might be worth looking at that Sandy outfit, Edge. See who else it suggests to us.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant.’ Brian was patient. ‘Fiona will be there, Edge, remember? Anything happens to her, anything at all, when you’re masquerading under a false name right on the premises, and the polis will have you locked up in a heartbeat. And don’t give me that look. We still don’t know who’s out to get her, and a party is an ideal time to try again. The security’s obviously not as good as it should be, if Rory can even be talking about taking two total outsiders.’
‘Yeah, but.’ Rory looked sulky. ‘I don’t want to be there alone, and Jason can only stay an hour, his other half insisted. He made the mistake of telling her the CEO’s missus is making a play at me, and now she’s convinced he’ll be next. The way thut Moira Murdoch is going for me, my career’s dead before it started anyway. If I jump her bones, I get my fifteen minutes until she’s bored. If I don’t, I sink without trace. Nice choice, huh?’
‘Is she really so bad?’ Brian looked unconvinced, but Rory was eager to air his grievances.
‘You tell me. When they signed me, I said the whole band, we were a package deal. Last night, who gets invited to dinner? Only me. That Fiona you’re talking about, when she’s not pestering the Murdochs to let her explore the staff apartments in their cellars, she’s going on about her stepmother who’s trying to kill her, and the whole time thut Moira Murdoch’s got her hand working its way up my thigh under the table with her husband right there.’
‘Fiona was saying what?’ Edge interrupted angrily, and Brian put his hand on her
shoulder.
‘Let it go, darling.’
‘Let it go, hell. That’s defamation of character!’
‘Nah, nah,’ Rory said helpfully, ‘she wasn’t talking about you. Unless you’re her stepmother!’ His laugh stopped mid snuffle as Edge shook off Brian’s hand and glared at them both.
‘You should make out that you’re gay,’ Donald suggested. ‘Women like gay men, they’re non-threatening. You can pay her compliments, laugh at her jokes, make a fuss of her, but spend a lot of time talking about yourself. She’ll get bored and move on, but your career’s intact.’
‘That’s very good, Donald.’ Matilda looked annoyed with herself. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself. Rory, we’ll make your makeup tonight a bit sparkly and pretty, and if you can remember to watch a few men walking around, but no women, that should do the trick.’
Donald put down the Alice Cooper album. ‘Have I talked myself out of my invitation?’
‘Nah, nah, with the makeup and wig you totally get away with being our drummer.’ Rory eyed him speculatively. ‘Could we make out we’re a couple? Much better than me leering at strange men, and getting mahself in a pickle. Would it be too much if we held hands?’
‘Much too much,’ Donald said severely. ‘Anyway, I’m not planning to stay long. I’ll kiss you goodbye while she’s watching, that should be enough.’
Rory looked nervous and Brian slightly queasy.
‘That’s the main reason I invited Horace as my plus one,’ Matilda said reflectively. ‘I thought he could keep Moira busy, as well.’
‘Major Horace?’ Edge forgot her annoyance instantly. ‘You invited Major Horace Chubb on a date?’
‘Not a date.’ A little colour tinged Matilda’s cheeks. ‘He’s perfectly presentable in his regimental dress kilt, and I asked him on the basis he should be attentive to Moira, and stop her being alone with Rory. He completely understood.’
‘You said you disliked her,’ Donald remarked, ‘I didn’t realize you disliked her so much. You’re a worthy opponent, Matilda, but you fight dirty.’