A Fine House in Trinity

by Lesley Kelly

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘It’s a bit of a tight fit, Wheezy, but we’re out.’

  And after a bit of wriggling we’re free.

  ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  We creep round to the front of the house. The Polis cars have gone.

  ‘Shall we run for it?’

  ‘Aye. No – wait.’ I’ve just seen Danny Jamieson’s motor. He must have heard there was a 999 call relating to Mavisview and decided to check it out for himself. ‘Danny’s here.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure he’s got it under control. Come on now.’ He tugs on my jacket but I don’t move.

  ‘He won’t know that they’re armed in there.’

  ‘Aye, well, he’ll have his radio on him for backup.’ He yanks on my jacket again but for some reason my feet still aren’t moving.

  ‘What if he doesn’t get a chance to use his radio? What if they’re holding him up at gunpoint right now?’

  ‘Stainsie – you’ve got a guilty conscience when it comes to Jamieson and rightly so, but he’s a Polisman and he can look after himself.’

  ‘No.’ I can’t believe I’m saying this. ‘I need to know he’s all right. Take my phone and you make a run for it. Dial 999 when you think you’re safe.’ I make a sprint for the front stairs before I can change my mind. I grab a big rock from the garden on the way – it’s the nearest thing to a weapon I’m going to find round here. I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear Wheezy shout in a stage whisper.

  ‘I’m not sure how to work a mobile.’

  I keep going, hoping that the daft bastard manages to find a passer-by who knows how a mobile phone works.

  Once I’m inside I’m not quite sure what to do. If Meikle and Bruce are handling the situation there might not have been any need for guns so far. They could be spinning him the same story that got rid of the uniformed Polis; I know from personal experience that Danny’s a gullible bastard. Me rushing in there would just cause all kind of alarm.

  On the other hand, if the guns are already drawn, me rushing in there isn’t gonna do anything except give them two targets to aim at instead of one.

  I creep up the stairs and position myself behind one of the full length curtains on the landing. It’s a bit of a strain but I can hear what’s going on. Just as well Danny’s got a loud voice.

  ‘Of course, you can understand why we have to follow up these calls. If we had realised that the lawyers had hired your security firm to protect Mavisview we would never have bothered you.’

  ‘Oh yes, Detective Superintendent, I understand. I’m just sorry you’ve had your time wasted.’

  It sounds like Meikle’s pulled it off. I wonder where Bruce is; even Danny would be suspicious about Mrs Stoddart’s right-hand thug suddenly being employed as security.

  ‘Well, I think that’s us…’

  Danny’s mobile beeps. That’ll be my text message coming through now that I can get reception again.

  ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll just…’

  I wonder if Danny’s any good at poker. There’s a silence.

  ‘While I’m here, I’ll maybe just have a quick look round.’

  Another silence.

  ‘Whatever you like, Detective Sergeant.’

  I feel the floorboards move as they walk past.

  ‘I’ll have a look upstairs first of all.’

  ‘No problem.’

  I give them time to get to the top of the stairs. Danny’s got things under control so I reckon I can safely slip outside and check if Wheezy’s still standing nearby trying to work out which way up my phone goes. I cautiously draw back the curtain and walk straight into Bruce.

  ‘What the…?’

  I hit him as hard as I can with the rock. He loses his balance and falls head first down the stairs. I’m just savouring the moment when I hear voices up the stairs, and Danny and Meikle appear.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Danny – he’s got a gun!’

  Danny – being remarkably quick on the uptake for once – tries to throw a punch at Meikle, but Meikle is too quick. There’s a gunshot and Danny crumples to the floor.

  Meikle doesn’t say a word but starts down the stairs, all the time with his gun aimed at my head. For the second time in an hour we hear Polis sirens in the distance. Meikle’s head jerks round in the direction of the door. I use the opportunity to run into the nearest room; he fires after me but it bounces off the wall. I lock the door and hope to God that he decides he hasn’t got time to chase after me. I hear his feet pelting down the stairs, so it looks like I’m right.

  Oh God, Danny.

  I give it a minute then poke my head out the door. I can hear Danny speaking.

  ‘I’m in urgent need of assistance.’

  I walk out on to the landing. ‘I’m here, Danny.’

  ‘I’m not talking to you, you tube. Get up here and hold my radio for me.’

  He’s been shot through the upper arm. There’s blood everywhere, but he’s trying to prop himself up on his good arm to get to his radio.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be lying down?’ I say, getting his radio off his belt.

  He ignores the question.

  ‘What are you doing here anyway?’

  I stare at the Polis radio. ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  I try to work out where to start. ‘Remember Isa Stoddart’s thug, Bruce?’

  He nods. ‘Aye – we had him in for questioning about her death.’

  ‘Well, he’s lying unconscious one floor down from here, by the way, but him and this other laddie Meikle, who’s been working with Guthrie Stoddart in Spain…’

  Danny groans and shifts his position. ‘Stoddart’s still alive then? I always thought Isa had done him in after that business with the young lassies.’

  ‘That’s what I said! Anyhow, Bruce and Meikle lured me and Wheezy Murphy here…’

  He frowns. ‘How?’

  I sit down on the floor next to him. ‘Never mind that for the minute.’

  ‘Why did they lure you here?’

  I continue avoiding his questions. ‘We’ll come back to that. Anyhow, they lured us here but somebody called the Polis, and they took fright when they heard the sirens…’

  ‘Somebody?’ There’s a tone of sarcasm in his voice. I ignore it.

  ‘Aye. Anyhow, they bundled us into a smuggler’s hole on the downstairs landing, but we managed to get out, and we were making a run for it when I noticed your car out front, and I thought I better try and let you know he’s got a gun.’

  Danny winces. ‘Which worked out really well for me.’

  I pat his leg. ‘Aye. Sorry.’

  ‘So, why did you come back when you were in the clear?’

  I sigh. ‘Well, you know…’

  ‘Guilty conscience?’

  He knows. I always suspected that he did. I just hope to God that Danny isn’t about to die ’cause I don’t want his last conversation on earth to be about me and his missus.

  ‘Well, I suppose so, but it was a long time ago and I think we have all moved on since then…’

  ‘What was a long time ago? Your involvement in Isa Stoddart’s death?’

  ‘What?’ Where did he get that from? ‘I’d nothing to do with any murder!’

  He tries to move and yelps in pain. Through gritted teeth he says, ‘Then what are you talking about?’

  I get to my feet. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m just havering.’

  Fortunately, the Polis arrive at this point, followed by a paramedic. Danny isn’t letting me off the hook.

  ‘Sergeant McKenzie – this man has a full statement that he wants to make about today’s events.’ He props himself up on his good arm again. ‘And see that it is a FULL statement that you make.’

  I stand up and look down at him. ‘Aye, aye. Look after yourself, Danny.’

  As the Sergeant escorts me to a Polis car I note that Danny’s never said thank you to me for tryi
ng to save his life, but I suppose getting shot can make people a bit ungrateful.

  Sunday

  I give as full and frank a statement as I can without mentioning Marianne in any way. I’d have liked to have left Miss Spencely out of it as well if I could, but I’m not a quick enough liar to work out how. I suspect that’s her career as a lawyer over; I hope Bruce was worth it.

  As I haven’t actually committed any crime (well – none that I’ve admitted to) the Polis can’t hold me, though I can tell by the glint in Sergeant McKenzie’s eye that he holds me personally responsible for Danny getting shot. He may be right. Anyhow he isn’t in any hurry to let me go and leaves me sitting in an interview room on my own for over an hour.

  This gives me plenty time to think over what’s happened. There are still some things I don’t understand, number one amongst them, why was Meikle going to such lengths to get hold of a company that Miss Spencely was trying to tell me wasn’t worth anything? Was that something Miss Spencely has been told to say by Bruce, or didn’t Bruce and Meikle realise that there are other creditors? And if old Senga O’Neill is to be believed, and Isa had a son or daughter, where are they?

  And the most important question, what impact does all this have on my inheritance?

  Eventually Sergeant McKenzie gives up waiting for me to crack and escorts me back. When I walk back through the Polis Station I’m surprised to see Wheezy sitting in Reception.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I came to make sure you aren’t suffering any Polis brutality.’

  The Desk Sergeant rolls her eyes in a manner that makes me think she’s been listening to Wheezy for a while now.

  I give her an apologetic smile as we leave. No point antagonising her; I’m bound to be back here at some point.

  Wheeze rubs his hands together. ‘So, what now, Stainsie? Round to Shugs?’

  We stare at each other. I’m almost touched that he’s waited for me. I nod. ‘Aye, but there’s a couple of things I want to do first.’

  ‘Have you found anything yet, Wheeze?’

  Wheezy turns round from the gravestone that he’s been pulling weeds off. ‘Naw. Are you sure this isn’t a wild goose chase?’

  ‘Maybe. But let’s give it another ten minutes.’

  Wheeze looks up at the heavens. ‘That’s the rain on. Five more minutes then I’m off. I’ll have a look at they stones over there.’ He gestures in the direction of some modern gravestones with the bunch of flowers that I made him buy.

  Suddenly the air erupts with the sound of cheering. Hibs must have scored - the Eastern Cemetery all but backs on to the Easter Road stadium. I sigh and go back to looking at the graves.

  The rain is picking up and I’m about to shout to Wheeze to knock it on the head when I find what I’m looking for. The grave has obviously not been visited for a while. I pull back the worst of the weeds and read the name out loud. Margaret Sylvia Jackman 1952 – 1990.

  I have a furtive look round. The cemetery is deserted apart from Wheezy, and he’s out of earshot. If I’m going to say my piece, it’s now or never. I start talking.

  ‘Mrs Jackman, I was a friend of your Shirley’s. Well, not much of a friend to be honest, as you’ll hear. I knew her when she was seeing Lachlan Stoddart. I really let her down, Mrs Jackman. I found out that she was only fourteen and I never did anything about it. I mean I’m not sure what I should have done about it, but I knew she was going to get into trouble. You can’t hang around with the likes of the Stoddarts and not get into trouble, but for a fourteen-year-old lassie…’

  I’m starting to get a bit choked up.

  ‘Guthrie Stoddart… Guthrie… he had a thing for young lassies. We all knew it but nobody sort of mentioned it out loud, you know, and then one day I walked in on the pair of them and… and I just ran.’

  I’m weeping properly now. My scar stings as the tears run over it.

  ‘I’m not sure what I saw, Mrs Jackman. I’m not sure if she was just a daft young lassie who thought it was funny to shag her boyfriend’s dad, or if it was something worse. And I don’t know what happened between her and Guthrie – Lachie said she stole some money off him, but I don’t buy that. Whatever happened, I’m sure that it was Guthrie and his pals that murdered her.’

  My scar is stinging.

  ‘I can’t help thinking if I’d stuck around and done something back then Shirley might still be alive, and so might you. So, that’s all I want to say, Mrs Jackman. Sorry. Sorry for everything.’

  I wipe my eyes on my jacket sleeve, and shout on Wheezy. He waves the flowers at me to show he’s heard, and starts to limp in my direction. ‘Where to now, Stainsie?’

  I push open the door to the church. The smell of incense hits me, and I can see Father Paul standing at the altar. I spot Marianne and Liam a couple of rows from the back. I point them out to Wheezy and we walk down the aisle and stop beside them. Marianne jumps when she sees us, but moves silently along the pew to let us sit down. She takes my hand and I let the hymn wash over me.

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