by V Clifford
‘Well, thank God he has you.’
Mrs Smith wrapped her arms around her body and rubbed her upper arms. ‘I won’t be around forever.’
‘But you’re almost the same age as him.’
‘I’m not well.’
Viv stared at her. ‘Let’s walk back to the house. You look chilled.’
They walked in silence until the house came into view. ‘He’s been like my wee brother. Can’t shake the feeling that he isn’t tough enough for the job that he’s been granted.’
‘He’s lucky to have you. And I appreciate you talking to me.’
Mrs Smith nodded and went round to the back of the house. Viv jogged down the drive and along the main road to find the Rav.
Chapter Twenty-Two
At the cottage she raced upstairs and dug back into Pamela Hamilton’s social media accounts. It didn’t take long to find a link to Hugo and she was off. What a lesson in social blindness. She’d been so side-tracked by David’s death being about fishing rights or a crime of passion that she hadn’t given Hugo a thought.
An email pinged into her inbox. It looked official, from Police Scotland. ‘Shit!’ Must be about her part in the injury of the gamekeeper. No way Coulson could avoid a report since he’d been taken to hospital. But when she opened it it was only an ‘official’ invitation to the NTF Christmas party. She released a breath. That could wait although it did have an RSVP.
An email address in Pamela’s correspondence led her to Hugo and to a company he’d approached to carry out a survey of the Dochie Burn, wherever that was. He wanted to know how many drops they could blast into the riverbed and there was also mention of Archimedes screws. Even she gasped at the idea of those in a river that was a salmon tributary. In the past poachers used charges to blast fish out of rivers but it was rare now since there were so few fish. She searched and searched and couldn’t find anything to connect Hugo to David.
She rang Coulson. ‘Hi. I’m looking into some correspondence belonging to Hugo Hamilton junior.’
Coulson interrupted her. ‘Strange you should say that. We’ve had results back from the lab on those tyre tracks. They belong to an estate vehicle but not the gamekeeper’s.’
‘Let me guess. Hugo has his very own Land Rover?’
‘You got it. But we also got some DNA off that vial that you pocketed.’
She drew in a breath. Mrs Smith couldn’t be involved in David’s death. ‘So, are you going to tell me or what?’
‘The Hamiltons’ stepmother has been trying to kick a twenty a day habit. Not many folks using Murray Mint vaping fluid. We’re wondering if . . .’
‘I’ll bet she was keen on the idea of the hydro scheme.’
‘How did you know about that?’
‘Just found something in an email.’
‘We’ve got forensics going over Hugo junior’s Land Rover at the moment and Mrs Hamilton the second is co-operating with our questions. If you find anything else that might help us let me know.’
‘Will do.’
Viv scrolled and found another set of emails between Pamela and her brother. Pamela was a spoiled brat but she wasn’t interested in Hugo’s hydro project and told him so in no uncertain terms. What exactly was his real motivation to kill David? Not being able to coerce him into persuading Sholto to give them the river rights, albeit on a tributary, was a good enough reason for anger since it meant the potential loss of serious money. But to kill someone for that, how did that even come about? Did he lure David out to look at the site, to see the way the scheme would work? If he had where was David’s car?
She rang Coulson again. ‘By the way I was wondering if anyone had found David’s car, assuming he had one?’
‘I’ve got the registration in the system but no one has found it yet. I’m thinking that it can’t be far and may even be somewhere on one of the estates. Sholto said there’s an ancient wood store at the base of a mono-plantation on the Braes. I’ve got guys checking there now. So much for the Knights of Malta theory. Looking like good old greed.’
‘In some ways that’s a relief. At least there won’t be a torrent of headlines making gays into bogie-men.’
‘We’re not quite there yet but Hugo and his stepmum are looking and behaving like trapped animals. I’ll let you know. Wait, there’s a call on the other line.’
Viv listened to muffled tones until Coulson came back on the line. ‘They’ve found the car. That’ll be another job for forensics.’
Viv could hear the hope in her voice. ‘Good luck.’
‘Thanks. We always need a good dose of that to get a conviction. Especially with the gentry. They’ve always got connections.’
She went downstairs, pulled on her boots and a jacket and walked down the lane. She took a right up the old drive towards the tower house and skirted the gardens. Brian’s house was on the other side of the field at the back of the house, next to the entrance to the new drive. She approached the lodge and tapped on the front door. Dogs barked and Brian came round from the side of the house.
He looked confused.
‘Hi. I thought I’d save you the bother of bringing Mollie back.’
‘It’s no bother. I’ll fetch her and a lead.’
It hadn’t occurred to her to bring one and she still wasn’t sure that Mollie wouldn’t run off without one. ‘Thanks. I forgot.’
‘No bother.’
Mollie went bananas when she saw her. Viv knelt on the ground and tried to contain her with a cuddle but she jumped and twirled before Viv could pin her down.
Brian said, ‘I think you’ve got a friend for life now.’
Viv eyes brimmed, so she kept her head snuggled into Mollie’s neck. ‘Fine by me. She’s the perfect companion. I’ll square . . .’
‘There’s no need for you to do that, it’s all covered.’
Viv kept petting the dog. ‘I don’t know how that is but I’ll take your word for it.’
She took Mollie off down the drive and waved her hand sensing that Brian was watching them go. A good walk was exactly what she needed to get her ducks in a row. It gave her space to plan what, if anything, she wanted to do next. She missed her hair clients and would be relieved to get back into a rhythm. Mollie raced ahead until she reached the end of the extension lead then ran back and circled Viv’s legs. What a joyful sight. One day she’d be confident enough to let her off knowing that she’d come back on command but not yet. On her way back to the cottage her mobile vibrated.
‘Hey Mac. How are you doing?’
‘I’m fine. Have you replied to the invitation from Police Scotland?’
‘No. It didn’t occur to me that there was a rush.’
‘You have to reply before the end of the week, otherwise they’ll assume you don’t want to go.’
‘Well, that’s fine. Since I have no intention of going.’
‘Don’t be so hasty. It wouldn’t be a bad thing for your career.’
‘My career is just fine thank you.’
‘No, you don’t get it. We’re all getting grief about budget cuts, and using outside consultants will be the first thing to pull back on. I’d keep your bonnie face in the picture if I were you.’ He changed his voice. ‘Come along with me and I’ll show you a good time.’
She laughed. ‘You sound like Groucho Marx. Let me think about it. Are you coming to Doune tonight?’
‘Sadly not. I’m meeting Fiona.’
She felt a pang of disappointment. ‘Be careful. I don’t trust her.’
He laughed. ‘You don’t trust anyone. I can look after myself.’
‘Fine. Speak soon.’
It was normal at the end of a case, to feel a bit down. No longer having the adrenalin of the hunt to push her through the day. She’d survive but there was more to life than survival.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘I don’t know what possessed me to agree to this. I won’t know anyone and I can’t be arsed with drunks never mind drunk cops.’
�
��Was there a Mrs Scrooge? Cause that’s exactly who you’re sounding like. Of course you’ll know people. It’s not as if you’ve never been in the office. You’ll recognise the teams once we get there.’
She picked at a piece of loose skin at the edge of a nail then flinched.
‘What are you up to? There’s no need to be nervous. I’m going to look after you.’
‘I don’t need looking after . . . but don’t you go wandering off leaving me on my tod.’
‘Would I?’
‘Yes. You would. Will Red be there?’
‘No. She’s not in the NTF. Why? You got a wee thing going for her?’
She punched his arm. ‘No. I don’t, but at least she’s familiar and she owes me, so she’s kind to me.’
Mac drove into a parking space on George Street. ‘By the way you look great. Loving the dress.’
‘Can’t wait to get home and take it off. I feel like a Christmas cracker. All wrapped up but worthless inside.’
Mac came round to her side of the car and took her hands. ‘Look at me.’
She wouldn’t make eye contact.
He tugged her hands. ‘Go on, look at me.’
She glanced up.
‘Now, do I look like the enemy to you?’
She shook her head and sighed. ‘Of course you don’t. It’s just that I’m crap at small talk.’
He kept hold of her hand as they crossed the road and ambled into the entrance hall of the Assembly Rooms.
Viv glanced around. Lots of men in black tie and women in fancy frocks stood in line to hand their coats to staff. Mac took her coat from her shoulders and headed over to put it into the cloakroom. He returned with two tickets. ‘Here, take your ticket in case you need to escape. Although you’ll not get far without your own wheels.’
‘You forget. I can jog home from here in five minutes. Well maybe ten in these shoes.’ Black patent pumps were not her usual footwear but she could still move in them.
They took a carpeted staircase to the next floor where one vast room was set up with tables for dinner and the room adjoining was prepared for dancing. Her stomach clenched. ‘I don’t know why you put up with me. I’m such a pain in the arse when it come to social things.’
‘Oh, it’s not just when there’s a social thing. We’ll need to find a way of getting you to chill. You do realise that it’s an honour that you’ve been invited?’
‘I did kind of wonder when the invitation came in. Why would I get an invite? It’s never happened before.’
‘Someone somewhere on high is acknowledging the value of your work. I’m guessing Ruddy had a hand in it. Talk of the devil.’ He nodded at Ruddy squeezing through the crowd to reach them.
In unison they said, ‘Sir.’
The men nodded to each other.
Ruddy said to Viv, ‘You look ravishing. Hope you’re looking forward to a good dinner and a thrash around the floor..’
She couldn’t help but smile at a vision of him thrashing around the ballroom in his tartan trews and his dark green velvet jacket.
‘Let’s find the table plan, shall we?’
By some stroke of luck, or some sneaky manipulating by Ruddy, they were all on the same table. Viv sat between the only two men she admired, and would trust with her life. She glanced at one, then the other, and let that sink in. At the same moment they both reached for her napkin. Mac won and laid it across her lap. She grinned. Ruddy poured her a glass of water before filling his own and Mac’s glass. This could actually turn out to be a fun night.
Ruddy said, ‘I hear Hugo Hamilton has been taken into custody. Coulson said you were an asset.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Kind of her to mention it. But I didn’t exactly pip anyone to the post. I should have thought of him earlier. Thank God for the Mrs Smiths of the world.’
Mac said, ‘She’s being modest . . . her digging is always way faster than anyone else’s. And let’s face it speed is everything these days. Just accept the credit and let’s have fun.’
The catering was efficient and the dancing raucous. By the time they’d finished the Dashing White Sergeant, an eightsome reel and the Gay Gordons. Strip the Willow was a shambles. Spirits were high and she was tipsy. Not a word she’d use to describe anyone let alone herself. But she was and she couldn’t think of a better word for the state of her.
She and Mac returned to their table and flopped into their seats. ‘You surely can’t be bothered to drive all the way back to Doune tonight, can you?’
‘Don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can drop you at the West Bow and I’ll stay at Learmonth.’
‘You have a spare room. I could sleep there.’
He hesitated.
‘It’s fine. I’m happy to go to the West Bow.’
‘I was just trying to remember what state the place is in. I think the spare room is made up but there’s nothing to eat for the morning. No milk or bread, nada.’
‘Forget I even mentioned it.’
‘No. I’d like you to come and stay.’
The ceilidh band stopped, and a DJ stepped in and said in a crooning voice, ‘Let’s take this action down a beat or two.’
Then the first bar of, ‘More than Words’ started. She said, ‘Oh, I love this song.’
He tugged her hand. ‘Are ye dancin’?’
She grinned, ‘Are ye askin’?’
Ruddy raised his eyebrows as they passed him on the way back to the ballroom. No one else was on the floor.
‘Well this is embarrassing.’
‘No it isn’t. You’ll forget about that when . . .’ He twirled her round and they danced. Not quite cheek to cheek but close. She loved the way he smelled. Always notes of lemon in whatever soap or shampoo he used. He was right. As soon as they began to sway she rested her head on his shoulder and relished the heat of his hands on her lower back. Angst drained from her. When the music stopped a few people clapped and they wandered back to their seats.
Mac said, ‘Let’s go.’
‘Go where?’
‘My place.’
‘But you said . . .’
‘Never mind what I said. Let’s go.’ He stretched out his hand, she took it and he pulled her to her feet.
Once they were out onto the street the wind chill hit them and they darted for the car.
It took until they were almost at Mac’s flat before the Audi thawed. He took them along the lane at the back of the flat and parked in his garage.
As she got out of the car she said, ‘I so envy this. Imagine being able to park at the bottom of your garden every time you come home. I’m sure my life is shorter with the frustration of circling for a space.’
Inside the flat was warm.
‘Want something to drink?’ He took her coat and hung it on a stand.
‘No. I’m fine, thanks.’
‘Yeah, sure, you don’t sound fine. Follow me.’
He took the stairs down to the floor below. This was where his bedroom and a huge kitchen diner were, both with double doors onto the garden. The grass and flowerbeds were lit up by trails of LED lights. A dwarf cherry tree also had them wrapped around its branches.
‘Looks seasonal, very domestic.’
‘Did you mean to say “pretty”?’ He pulled off his bow tie and hung his jacket over the back of a chair then kicked off his shoes. ‘Heaven. Women don’t have a monopoly on sore feet. Lesson, never wear new shoes to do Strip the Willow.’
She felt herself flush and put her hand up to her throat and nodded to the garden. ‘It does look pretty. What is wrong with me? When I’m with you I never say the right thing. I revert to sarcasm to conceal my awkwardness.’
He went into a cupboard and took out a huge towel and tossed it to her. ‘Here, you’ll need this. Spare room is where it was last time. I put the heating on from the car so the water might not be that hot yet.’
‘Thanks. It’ll be a relief to get out of this frock.’
He checked in the fridge then in a large s
tore cupboard. ‘I’ll defo need to nip out in the morning and get supplies.’
‘Don’t on my account. We can go to Bella’s for breakfast.’
‘Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.’ He strolled off to his room and left her standing in the kitchen.
She took the stairs back to the first floor and the spare room, kicked off her pumps, then unzipped her dress. It dropped to the floor and she stepped out if it. She released a huge sigh then slipped beneath the cool cotton duvet. She tossed and turned until eventually she got up and pulled back the curtain. A fox made its way across the grass into the undergrowth. It wasn’t a big fox, but its beautiful rich auburn coat made it stand out from those she’d seen in the countryside. Must be to do with the time of year. She returned to bed and lay staring up at the ceiling. Minutes passed as a clock on the bedside cabinet tick-tocked, as if mocking her. She wondered if Mac was asleep.
She got up again, wrapped the duvet round her shoulders and wandered down to the kitchen. One of Mac’s cats rubbed up against her bare leg. Every house had its own creaks and bumps. Mac’s had fewer than most, but the fridge hummed and the digital read-out on the oven gave enough light for her to see where she was going. She opened the door to his bedroom and stood watching him sleep. He looked like a man without much on his mind or a man without conscience. Neither was true.
She moved to the edge of the bed and he immediately woke up. From deep sleep to high alert in a second.
‘What?’
‘I can’t sleep. I thought you might still be awake.’
He patted the duvet beside him. What’s up?’
She sat on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. ‘I feel desperate that I didn’t do enough for Sal.’
‘But what do you think you could have done?’
‘I don’t know. But it wasn’t enough. To let the FBI take over and resolve it wasn’t right.’
‘There’s no way they’d have let us interfere when one of their own was guilty.’
‘At a rational level I know that. But my heart says something else. I don’t usually do guilt but that’s what I think is going on.’