Call of Glengarron

by Nancy Buckingham

  I was distraught. “I tell you somebody fixed those ‘accidents’ of mine. And who else but Craig?”

  Slowly, in a leisurely way, Alistair Lennox reached forward and switched off the headlights. The engine spluttered to a stop when he cut the ignition.

  “Well... what about me, for instance?”

  “You ... I”

  There was a breathless silence as icy needles pricked my skin. Even the extraordinary behavior of Alistair Lennox these last minutes hadn’t prepared me for this explanation.

  I must have tightened my arms around Jamie, a spontaneous gesture of protection. The little boy stirred and muttered a sleepy protest.

  “Is the lad asleep?” asked Lennox quickly.

  I managed no more than a croaky whisper. “Yes.”

  “Good. We wouldn’t want to have an audience.”

  Somehow I found my voice. “Mr. Lennox, I ran to you for help. Why are you talking like this, as if you ... and not Craig ... ?”

  Still quite unhurried, he went through the motions of lighting a cigarette. As the match flared I was shocked by the sight of his face. The lips were thin and hard, the eyes narrowed.

  Yet through my shock I felt a surge of gladness. I had been so certain, so utterly convinced it was Craig.... How could I possibly have believed it of him?

  My joy was so intense that for a moment I completely overlooked the danger I was in now. Alistair Lennox had to tell me again, and bluntly, before I really took it in—that I was sitting next to a murderer, defenseless, beyond reach of help.

  “It was not Craig who killed Margo,” he said easily. “It was me.”

  That hammering of my heart—was it fear or was it happiness? Craig had not been plotting to kill me, after all.

  I was still too confused to make proper sense. “If this were true, if you had really killed Margo, you wouldn’t be telling me about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’d know that I would tell Craig. And he’d go straight to the police, even though you are his uncle....”

  “How incredibly naive you are, Lucy.” The words came out as a thin sneer. “You don’t imagine I’m going to allow you to talk, do you?”

  Jamie shifted suddenly in my arms, and I realized I’d forgotten him. I eased the sleep-heavy little body as far away from Lennox as possible.

  My instinctive movement didn’t pass unnoticed.

  “You don’t have to worry. Nothing is going to happen to Jamie—not unless you force me to ...”

  “Force you?”

  “By being silly. You must let me have Jamie, and I’ll take care of him.”

  “No,” I cried. “I’ll never hand him over to you.”

  “Now don’t shout,” he reproved mildly. “You might waken the lad. And even not yet five-year-old witnesses have a nasty habit of talking. If you want to spare Jamie’s life, you had better make sure he stays asleep.”

  “You wouldn’t ... you couldn’t ...” But all the same I dropped my voice to no more than a whisper in my sudden fear for Jamie.

  I could sense Lennox’s shrug of indifference. “What would another one matter after Margo—and then you?”

  The man was entirely without scruple, if he could so lightly contemplate killing an innocent child, his own great nephew.

  Then the full horror of my position came crashing through, overwhelming me. I didn’t stand a chance myself. The countryside all around us seemed one vast emptiness, and Craig was miles away, crippled with a sprained ankle. I couldn’t even try making a run for it. With Jamie, I’d hardly manage to get out of the jeep before Lennox stopped me.

  All I could do was to play for time. God knows what I hoped for, but I would keep on talking as long as I could....

  A voice I didn’t recognize as my own asked, “Why did you kill Margo? What harm had she ever done you?”

  “It was more a question of the harm she would have done me.” His tone was conversational now, almost chatty. “There seemed a very real danger that she’d agree to go back to Craig. From what he told us in his letters, he was prepared to go to any lengths to achieve a reconciliation.”

  “But—”

  “Even,” he went on meaningfully, “even to the extent of granting her dearest wish.”

  “Her dearest wish?”

  Lennox said, “Come now, my dear, you must know why it was that Margo left her husband.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  It was true—I didn’t know. It seemed to me now that Margo must have been crazy to leave Craig.

  “She told me it was because he treated her so badly,” I said. “That he was utterly selfish....”

  “Selfish? That bitch had damn near everything—except what she’d set her heart on.”

  He stopped speaking and I asked quickly: “What was it Margo wanted so much?”

  “Do you really mean you don’t know? That cousin of yours married Craig for just one thing. She wanted to become the wife of the Laird of Glengarron.”

  “But that’s exactly what she was.”

  “No she wasn’t. For all practical purposes I am regarded by everyone as the Laird. I certainly wasn’t going to have a cheap upstart like her pushing me out.”

  “But Craig would never have allowed that. He told me he was determined that nothing must ever interfere with your position here.”

  “That’s easy to say,” he snarled.

  “But he meant it—I know he meant it.”

  When Lennox spoke again, the confidence had gone from his voice. He sounded puzzled, almost plaintive.

  “Did I kill Margo for nothing, then?” He sighed heavily. “But it’s done now, and I’d never have been entirely easy in my mind as long as she was around.” Already he had argued himself back to easy acceptance of his dreadful crime.

  “How can you be so complacent about it?” I flung at him. “To think you killed Margo for something so utterly trivial....”

  “Trivial? You can’t begin to understand what it means to me. For nearly twenty years I have lived as the Laird of Glengarron, with all the respect and honor that goes with it. Was I just to let that go?”

  “But even so, even if all you had imagined was true, you could still have lived a life that most people would have envied.”

  “Such a remark gives away your plebian background,” he sneered. “You could never be anything but a nobody, Lucy Calvert. My God—imagine Glengarron falling into your hands.”

  “I wouldn’t want it,” I said quietly.

  “Not if Craig went with it?”

  I was silent.

  Lennox shifted in his seat. “Well, we can’t hang about here all night. You’d better pass young Jamie over to me.”

  But I clung all the tighter. “What ... what are you going to do?”

  “There’s a deep gorge just ahead of us. I thought perhaps the jeep could run off the road by the bridge and go over the edge with you in it. Such an unfortunate accident, and quite certain death, of course.”

  “You wouldn’t dare. How could you possibly explain ... ?”

  “Oh, that would be quite simple. I shall say that the brakes failed as we were taking the bend. I managed to grab Jamie and jump clear, but for some reason, though I shouted at you to do the same, you didn’t.”

  “And you seriously imagine anybody would believe such a story?”

  “Really, Miss Calvert. Are you suggesting that the Laird of Glengarron could conceivably be a liar?”

  “You’d never get away with it.” But I knew his supreme self-confidence was justified. His word would be accepted without question.

  “I’ll get away with it, all right. And when, looking disheveled and exhausted, I stumble into the nearest village, having carried Jamie in my arms for a full four miles, I shall insist upon leading the search for you with ropes and lights and men. Then, my dear girl, I shall be not only believed, but honored too, for my heroic efforts.”

  “You ... Oh you ... ”

  “Now, now—let’s keep our tempers.�
�� His arm reached out lazily to turn the ignition key. The motor fired and he opened the door on his side and put one foot to the ground. “Come on, give Jamie to me.”

  My mind spun. Was I tamely going to submit to murder without fighting back?

  Lennox could sense my whirling thoughts.

  “Don’t try anything silly,” he warned me. “If you do, it’ll be Jamie as well....”

  The only choice he offered was to die with Jamie, or to die alone. But there must be some other way....

  “How do I know you’ll take care of Jamie if I gave him to you?”

  As I was speaking I gently eased the sleeping child off my lap to the seat on the farther side of me, freeing my arm for action.

  “You have my word,” Lennox said with a pained dignity.

  I had to encourage him to talk a bit more to get him off guard for just a vital split second.

  “It’s all very well to give me your word, Mr. Lennox,” I argued. “But Jamie’s life is at stake....”

  “Come along, girl.”

  “You can do what you like with me,” I said, putting submission into my voice. “But promise me that you won’t let any harm come to Jamie....”

  “Haven’t I just told ...” snapped Lennox, raising his arms in exasperation.

  With a sudden movement I put both hands against his chest and pushed with all my strength. With Lennox already partly off-balance with one foot still in the jeep, my unexpected thrust sent him crashing to the ground. I heard a startled grunt of pain.

  I didn’t delay an instant. I whipped into the driver’s seat and even as my feet connected with the controls, my fingers found the handbrake and released it. The engine screamed as I trod hard on the throttle, the clutch engaged with a horrible jerk, and the jeep leaped forward. The open door swung shut with a bang, latching itself.

  In the pale gleam of the sidelights I could only just make out the narrow road, curving steeply downward. The bridge seemed to jump at me from out of nowhere. Before I could wrench the steering around, the nearside front wheel had caught the edge of the parapet. The jeep veered violently across the road, and crashed into the wall on the other side.

  We stopped dead, and the engine stalled. But the sudden silence that followed was immediately broken by the thunder of falling stones. A section of the bridge’s wall had dropped sheer into the gorge below.

  That was the fate Lennox had planned for me.

  Even now, I still hadn’t managed to escape it. My wild attempt to get away had achieved nothing. Worse than nothing, in fact, because now I had involved Jamie too.

  He must have rolled off the seat onto the floor when we hit the wall, and he was wailing thinly, a pathetic sound.

  I had to feel around for him, and when I touched his arm he murmured my name.

  “Darling, are you all right?”

  “My arm hurts,” he sobbed, sounding dazed.

  “Poor Jamie.” Carefully I gathered him up and held him to me.

  “I want my daddy.”

  I wanted Craig too. I longed for him.

  If only I could go back a few hours in time. If only I had been guided by my instinctive trust in him. If only ...

  There were footsteps on the road, the noise I had been listening for with dread. It sounded as if the man was stumbling as he ran—possibly he was injured by his fall. But I knew he would be upon us with seconds.

  Should I try and make a dash for it? But I’d be at a hopeless disadvantage, with Jamie in my arms.

  I waited, rallying every ounce of courage. At this final showdown I wasn’t going to give in easily. Now, with Jamie awake, I hadn’t anything at all to lose—I was fighting for his life as well as for my own. Lennox was certainly much stronger than I, but with luck his fall had handicapped him. And age was on my side. I had at least a thirty-year edge on him.

  He was almost on the bridge now, horribly near. Feverishly I fumbled around for a weapon. My fingers found a short piece of wood, half pushed under the seat. It was surprisingly heavy as I drew it out.

  This was a vicious weapon indeed—a sharp-bladed ax like the one I had seen Angus MacRae using to mark trees for felling.

  Lennox came running up. “That was ... that was a very stupid thing to do,” he panted. “I warned you of the consequences ... of any attempt to get away.”

  I clutched the ax handle tighter, and it gave me a menacing sort of comfort. But it was a terrifying weapon. Too brutal— too final...

  One of the jeep’s sidelights was still working and in its reflected glow I could see that Lennox was shrugging his right shoulder, massaging it with his other hand. I guessed he’d fallen heavily when I shoved him.

  “Come along now,” he barked impatiently. “Get out.”

  “Certainly not.”

  I reckoned I had a slight advantage while I was inside the jeep with the door closed between us. I brandished the ax so that he could see the glint of its metal head.

  “You keep away, or I’ll hit you with this.”

  He jumped at that, taking several paces back. But almost at once he began advancing on me again with smooth encroaching steps. In a low, mesmerizing voice he said, “You wouldn’t dare to use that thing on me, Lucy, now would you ... ?”

  “I will if I have to,” I cried.

  Jamie must have sensed that something was badly wrong. Though he clung to me with a choking grip, he whimpered: “I want my daddy. I want my daddy.”

  Lennox switched immediately to a bright coaxing voice. “Hello there, Jamie. I will take you home to your daddy, if you like. You just come on out of there.”

  To my dismay Jamie started to clamber across my lap, and I had a job to hold him back with my one free hand.

  “You’re staying right here with me,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “But I want to go home,” he sobbed.

  Lennox took advantage of the distraction by coming a confident step nearer.

  “You are only delaying the inevitable, you know. Why not come and get it over with?”

  “Keep away.”

  But Lennox edged closer still. He was trading on my female lack of stomach for violence. He misjudged me, though, if he really thought I wouldn’t strike out to defend Jamie. Trembling with every nerve, I raised the ax higher.

  Lennox halted abruptly, standing quite stiff. I thought he must be daunted at last by my show of determination, but then I realized he was alerted to some new sound.

  My own ears were filled with the noise of my thumping heart, but whatever it was Lennox heard caused him to make a sudden impetuous lunge at me. He shot out an arm, grabbing for the ax through the open window. Though I held it back, beyond his grasp, he reached inside with both hands, pulling at my shoulder, struggling to get hold of the weapon.

  All I had to do was to bring the ax down hard. One single smashing stroke would finish him....

  My fingers, tight around the wooden shaft, seemed paralyzed. My whole arm was rigid and useless.

  In that split second I raged at myself for being so spineless. This man was a self-confessed murderer. He was going to kill us both, Jamie and me. He was going to fling us into the deep darkness of the gorge.

  But still I couldn’t make myself hit out at him. Still I couldn’t swing that cold sharp steel at living flesh.

  Lennox could sense my impotence. He abandoned his struggle for the ax, and instead, made a grab for Jamie, trying to drag the little boy away from me.

  That gave me the courage I needed. I shut my eyes and ...

  Before I could strike that final savage blow Lennox had jumped aside. “Come out of there, you stupid bitch,” he screamed. But now his voice contained no threat. He was a frightened man.

  And then I heard it too. I heard what had put fear into Lennox. It was the noise of a motor, a noise that for me carried hope, the promise of safe deliverance. Whoever it was, would have to stop. Nothing could pass us with the jeep blocked across the narrow bridge. Whoever it was, friend of Lennox’s or complete stranger,
the very presence of another human being would be enough to prevent him carrying out his murderous plan.

  Lennox was staring back up the road. I glimpsed stabbing headlights as the oncoming vehicle dived into the hollow near the bridge. It came charging on at full speed until it was only yards away from us. As it swung around the last bend I heard brakes shrieking, and I knew the driver had spotted us.

  I waited for the crash, but it didn’t come.

  I heard a confusion of running feet and shouting. Two figures came into the beam of the headlights. One was limping badly.

  “Craig,” I yelled at the top of my voice.

  There was another shout—a weird scream of anger, of frustration, of terror. I saw Lennox dart away and jump up onto the parapet of the bridge. He ran a few steps along the top, his figure silhouetted against the night sky. And then, with a sort of magnificent, horrifying grace, he flung himself outward, diving into the black space.

  Sickened, I covered my ears with both hands, fending off the dreadful sound I knew must follow.

  Chapter 17

  I was glad to have Jamie to worry about during the next couple of days. His demands helped to push my nightmare memories into the background. I lied unashamedly, twisting facts to hide the fearsome truth. Luckily, he’d been too sleepy to have more than a hazy recollection of that dreadful night. I managed to keep up the fiction that our ordeal had been just a game—an extravagant game of tracking.

  Maybe in taking good care of his son, I was giving Craig the best possible help at this difficult time. But all the while I was wishing I could do more for him. There was so much he had to see to, so many things to be sorted out. And his badly wrenched ankle didn’t make it any easier. He was hobbling around with the aid of a stick, and I could see he was still in considerable pain.

  Glengarron Castle was a gloomy place, filled with disquieting emptiness. I saw very little of either Isabel Lennox or Fiona, and even the servants seemed to keep to the domestic quarters.

  On the second day, as I came downstairs from putting Jamie to bed, I found luggage piled in the hall and Craig’s aunt and cousin on the point of leaving.