by Kennedy Kerr
Temerity walked up the last few steps. At the top of the stairs, a wide, wine-coloured carpeted hallway stretched out, with various doors leading from it. This feels ominous, she thought. Not in a good witchy way, either.
‘Maybe. But it also points to one other person. Someone who makes herbal potions for the villagers. Someone whose son thinks he’s been cursed.’ Temerity looked wide-eyed at Angus. ‘Someone who made some kind of herbal concoction for the number one suspect in a murder investigation. And if the mirror was… enchanted somehow to divert our attention away from the real murderer, if it worked, then Ben isn’t the one responsible—’
Angus finished her sentence. ‘We have to find her.’
26
Angus opened the first door on the left and switched on the light; it was a bathroom. ‘Try the others.’ He nodded, opening the next door on the left which appeared to be a guest bedroom.
Temerity tried the first door, but it was locked. The second was a utility cupboard containing all the usual things: vacuum, mop, cleaning products. She very nearly managed to knock everything over, but caught the mop at the last minute and righted it. Come on, Temerity. Just try not to be clumsy for once in your life, she willed herself. This really isn’t the time.
She expected another spare room when she opened the third door, but when she turned on the light, there was a weak cry and she saw that she had woken Lady Dalcairney, who looked tiny in a wide four-poster bed, propped up by pillows. Temerity looked at her watch; it was only a little past seven p.m. Surely the Lady couldn’t be asleep already, even if she was a little fragile these days?
‘Oh! Lady Dalcairney! I didn’t mean to…’ Temerity began, but the old woman screamed a feeble, thin warble and clutched the sheet under her chin.
‘Leave me alone! Liz! Liz!’ The old woman was genuinely terrified at Temerity’s sudden appearance and Temerity felt awful. She approached the bed with her hands up, as if she was being arrested herself. Oh gods, this escalated fast. Where’s a man raised by wolves when you need one? It wasn’t the time to make jokes, but her nerves were on edge.
‘It’s okay! It’s all right, Lady Dalcairney. I’m Temerity Love, I visited last week with my sister,’ Temerity explained in as soothing a tone as she could manage. Lady Dalcairney twisted the thick, blood-red duvet in her thin hands.
‘Witches! Be gone! I’m a good Christian woman!’ Her shaking hand reached around her neck and she pulled out the same gold crucifix as before, holding it up in the light as if it was a shield. Temerity stood nervously by the side of the bed.
‘Please, Lady Dalcairney. I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to ask you some questions,’ she repeated, trying not to sound as panicked as she felt. This was straight out of a bad horror movie but about two thousand per cent less entertaining.
Angus appeared in the doorway.
‘David? David, is that you?’ the old woman’s voice quavered and Temerity wondered if hers and Angus’s theory was right. How could Lady Dalcairney be Molly’s murderer? It didn’t make any sense.
‘No, Lady Dalcairney. I’m Constable Harley, Lost Maidens Loch Police,’ Angus said, coming in and sitting at the end of the bed on the opposite side. ‘I’m so sorry for the late hour, but we wanted to ask you something about the herbal… potion you made for Ben McKinley.’
The grey–haired woman sat up a little on her pillows and reached out for him.
‘Oh, thank goodness. Constable, this woman is trying to put a curse on me. I knew she would show herself, eventually. She’s tortured me all these years.’ The Lady was on the edge of tears; kindly, Angus reached for her bony, birdlike hand with his wide, reassuring palm.
‘Maybe you’re confused. Miss Love runs the antique shop in the village,’ he said.
‘I know who she is! Witches, all of them. Cursed me! Cursed us all!’ Lady Dalcairney screamed. Temerity took a deep breath.
‘I’d never met you before last week. How could I have cursed you?’ Temerity asked, appalled that anyone could think she really had done such a thing, but also saddened by what was clearly a reasonably advanced stage of dementia. She knew Lady Dalcairney was a confused old woman, but it was still hurtful to be accused of something so horrible.
Angus nodded at the door, indicating Temerity should stand way from the bed. As soon as she did, the elderly woman seemed to calm down a little.
‘I’m a godly woman. This is a godly house,’ she repeated to Angus, who nodded.
‘Of course, Lady Dalcairney. I can see that. When you say that someone has cursed you for years, what do you mean?’
She shuddered.
‘They think they can get in here, but I’m protected by my faith,’ she said, still gripping the crucifix. ‘Years, it’s been. When Emma drowned – and her going to have a child, too, I knew it then. There was a curse on us. Then Claire left us. Anthony was always a difficult boy, of course. We had to work hard to discipline him. And then, David was consorting with them.’
‘Them?’ Angus enquired evenly.
‘The ones in the shop. Evil. Demons in that place. David used to come home stinking of that smell, that smoke they used to call their familiars. I told him, They’ve cursed us. Don’t go there any more. But he didn’t understand. He thought they were helping get rid of it.’
So far, Lady Dalcairney wasn’t telling them anything new, although Temerity doubted that David Dalcairney would have shared his beliefs about the curse with his mother. But if he hadn’t told her, it was strange that they had somehow come to the same conclusion.
‘Tell me about the things you make for the villagers.’ Angus changed the subject. ‘My grandmother used to give me peppermint leaves in hot water when I had a stomach-ache. That kind of thing. She seemed to know all the old cures.’
Temerity was surprised that Angus had even the most basic knowledge of herbal medicine, but more than that, she was impressed at how he had managed to calm the old lady down. She’d never seen him like this before.
‘Oh, yes. My mother taught me, her mother taught her. The old ways. When I was just a teenager, I was friends with the baker’s daughter in the village. I’d go over in the boat and pick up the bread order for our housekeeper; I liked to do it. I could steer that boat as well as any boy.’ For a moment, a light appeared in Lady Dalcairney’s eyes.
‘One day, I was there, playing with Jill in her back garden before I took the bread back in the boat and the baker, Mr Eadie, came out coughing from the bakery. He was trying to stop himself coughing all over the bread, I suppose, but he looked fit to die. Anyway, Mother had told me, for coughs, you should mix thyme and mallow root in milk if you have it. In those days, of course, we knew how to recognise plants. So I made it up for Jill’s father and his cough went away.’
‘I see. So, after that, people asked you to help them?’
‘Yes. Mother told me other things, too, when I got a little older. Little love powders, old ways to protect your house, simple things to do. But they seemed to work.’ Lady Dalcairney closed her eyes. ‘I’m so dreadfully tired all the time, dear. I don’t know why.’ Her voice grew slower.
‘Lady Dalcairney? Please, if I can just ask you one more question. What was in the love potion you made for Ben McKinley?’ Angus asked. Her eyes fluttered open.
‘McKinley? I’m sorry, dear. I don’t know names.’
‘He’s a tall fellow. Teacher at the local school. Dark hair,’ Angus said. ‘He came here and you talked in the garden.’
Lady Dalcairney closed her eyes again.
‘I don’t remember, Constable,’ she said. ‘But my memory has been very bad lately.’
‘Can you tell me what you put in the love potion?’ Angus tried again. Lady Dalcairney sighed.
‘Rose petals; dried, ground rosehip; cardamom seeds; dried hibiscus petals – grind them up and drink them in water like a draught,’ she murmured as she closed her eyes. ‘Simple things.’
Angus stood up; Lady Dalcairney was asleep.
Th
e bedroom door swung open and Liz stood silhouetted in the light from the hallway. Behind her stood Sally, like an ominous shadow.
‘May I ask what you’re doing up here, Temerity Love?’ Liz asked and her voice had none of its former friendliness.
27
‘Liz! Hello.’ Temerity tried to make her voice pleasant and neutral, but she knew she sounded guilty. They had no good reason to be interrogating a frail old woman in her bedroom, even if they did think she might be a murderer. However, now that Temerity had met Lady Dalcairney, it seemed unlikely that she was.
‘What’re ye doin’ here?’ Liz repeated. ‘Ye cannae be up here. Get out.’
Temerity felt immense gratitude that Angus was with her: at least, as a policeman, he could have a reason for being in most places. He stood up and Liz shrank back slightly; Temerity realised that she hadn’t seen him, maybe because the light was behind her.
‘We came to see you, Liz. The Laird let us in. We thought we heard the Lady in distress, so we came up. She was shouting for you; in the Laird’s absence, surely, as the Lady’s main carer, you should be in the house and not be leaving her alone?’ Angus had his sternest expression on and Temerity marvelled at the effect it had on the housekeeper, whose tone changed immediately.
‘Ah, I see. You’re right, of course, Constable. I had popped outside very briefly to pull up some vegetables for tomorrow’s meals and it took a wee bit longer than I thought. I did think David would let me know when he left, so I could come back in,’ she explained. Temerity detected a sudden deference in her voice that absolutely hadn’t been there when she had thought it had just been Temerity up here. ‘Sally came and found me just now; she heard noises up here but was too afraid to come on her own.’ Liz stood aside and indicated a frightened-looking Sally.
‘I see,’ Angus continued and led Temerity past Liz into the hall. ‘Maybe we can talk to you now?’
‘Oh, certainly, Constable. Sally will escort ye to the lounge. I’ll follow ye. I’ve just got tae see to something.’ Liz watched them go down before she entered Lady Dalcairney’s room; Temerity could feel her stare on her back as they followed Sally down the stairs.
‘She’s acting strangely,’ Temerity whispered to Angus, once they were downstairs. Sally showed them to the same room Temerity had eaten cake and drunk tea and whisky in the night of the rescue. As before, she stood silently in the corner, not saying anything, her arms by her sides. Temerity wondered if she was, in fact, able to speak at all.
‘Yes. Maybe,’ he whispered back. ‘I don’t think Lady Dalcairney can be the murderer. She can hardly sit up.’
‘But she did confess to making herbal remedies – she could have poisoned Molly. And there’s the stag, too. The Dalcairney motif on their coat of arms.’ She pointed at the stone mantelpiece, where the stag’s outline, chasing pheasants, was carved above the wide fireplace. ‘I saw a stag in visions, twice. Once when I touched the mirror and when I touched the mug Molly drank out of. I’m sure it means that there’s some connection between Molly’s murder and the Dalcairneys, but if the murderer isn’t Lady Dalcairney, who is it? David?’
‘It might be,’ Angus answered in a low voice.
Liz appeared in the doorway before they could carry on the conversation.
‘Now then. Can I get you both something? Tea? Something stronger?’ she asked. Her manner was wholly unlike earlier; now, she was as warm and welcoming as she had always been.
‘Oh no, we’re fine, thank you. We were just passing – walking – and we thought we’d drop in,’ Temerity explained, seriously hoping that Angus could continue to finesse his way out of this situation and come up with a good reason for them dropping by.
‘Ah, I see.’ Liz looked curiously at them both. ‘And what can I do for you? I’d normally be heading home by now, but of course, David has an evening appointment, so I’m here for the night.’
‘Aren’t you usually here at night?’ Temerity asked.
‘No. Sally is in night residence, as a rule,’ Liz nodded at the silent young woman. ‘You can go, dear. Make sure Lady Dalcairney has settled down, would you?’ Sally nodded and left the room. Liz sighed. ‘What a night.’
‘Well, Liz,’ Angus began. ‘We were wondering if—’
A scream cut through the house, stopping Angus.
‘What the…?’ Temerity stood up, but Liz was ahead of them. She ran through into the hall and headed upstairs.
‘It’s Lady Dalcairney. I was afraid of this. It sounds like she’s having one of her bad turns. Stay here, I’ll go to her,’ she panted, running up the stairs as the screaming got louder.
‘Can we do anything?’ Angus called up after her, but Liz shook her head. ‘It’s all right. This is fairly common, especially when she’s had some kind of excitement or disturbance,’ she replied. ‘Probably best if we catch up another time, though. Do you mind? I just know I’ll be up here a while calming her down.’
Temerity and Angus exchanged a glance; Temerity could see that Angus was as suspicious as she was. Somehow, the scream had come at exactly the right time to stop Liz having to answer any difficult questions – and just a few minutes after Sally had been told to check on Lady Dalcairney.
‘Of course.’ Angus nodded and handed Temerity her coat. ‘If you’re sure. Do you want me to telephone for an ambulance?’
‘No, no. I’m sure. Thank you.’ The screams intensified. ‘If you don’t mind, I have to leave you to let yourselves out!’ she called from the top of the stairs. Temerity waved and opened the door; Angus shut it behind them.
‘I don’t like that one bit,’ he said as soon as the door was closed. ‘If that happens regularly, that woman should be in professional care.’
‘Hmmm.’ Temerity frowned. ‘What d’you think Liz was doing up there? Before she came down, just now?’
‘I don’t know. Here, come on. I want to see what she was doing when we got here. Pulling up vegetables in the dark? I don’t think so.’ Angus took her hand and led her around the side of the house, avoiding the lounge that looked out over the loch. The garden was dark, but Angus produced a small torch from his pocket. ‘Always be prepared.’ He grinned at her and clicked it on; despite being small, the torch was bright.
‘You’re quite the boy scout,’ Temerity quipped.
‘On my evenings off.’
‘Do you always have that with you?’ Temerity asked as they followed a mud path between overgrown bushes; she thought some of them were brambles.
‘You never know when you’re going to find yourself blundering around in the dark. Admittedly, blundering with a witch gives it an added dimension.’ He chuckled and Temerity was relieved that they seemed to have moved past their earlier uncomfortable moment.
‘Fifth-dimension crime solving.’ Temerity saw his confused expression. ‘Don’t worry. Witch joke.’
‘Okay…’ Angus moved the torchlight beam to the right. ‘What’s that?’
‘What?’ An owl hooted and Temerity suddenly started to feel spooked. Even though she was here with Angus Harley, a prickle of dread had just gone up her spine.
‘That. Over there. Some kind of out-house.’
The torchlight picked out a shadowy, huddled wooden shed, partially hidden by a tree that grew next to it. They picked their way through more bramble bushes; as Temerity got closer she could see that ivy covered half of the planks.
‘Spooky,’ Angus said. ‘But it looks like it’s in reasonably regular use. Look, that padlock’s pretty new.’
Temerity stopped at the door to the shed and examined the silvery padlock, which held the door closed. Angus rubbed at the window with his sleeve and peered inside.
‘Too dark to see anything.’ He shone his torch in and shook his head. ‘Is it definitely locked?’
‘Yep.’ Temerity was disappointed; she really wanted to see what was inside.
‘Hmmm. Why lock it, a random falling-down shed in a private garden? Think she was out here?’
‘Who?
Liz?’ Temerity looked back at the house. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
Angus followed Temerity’s gaze thoughtfully.
‘I think we need to see inside,’ he said.
‘But it’s padlocked,’ she said. We’re still in a horror movie and now I’ve somehow turned into the girl who wails ‘but what shall we doooo?’ at the strong man, Temerity thought. How did this happen?
Angus smiled and reached into his pocket.
‘Boy scout,’ he repeated and slid something into the lock and turned. It popped open.
28
The shed was the size of a large bedroom. It may have appeared to be a shambling shack from the outside, but inside, it was almost cosy. On the bare wood floor, someone had placed a faded blue rug. The bare wood insides of the shed had been draped with a mixture of velvet and silk fabrics, stapled to hold them in place.
A side table sat against the back wall and on it were a number of objects that Temerity instantly recognised as witchcraft-related: half-burned white candles in cast iron candlesticks; puddles of wax that had pooled on the small table. There was a chalice and a small heatproof casserole dish that contained the remnants of incense resin burned on charcoal, but that was where the similarity to any altar of Temerity’s ended.
Instead of fresh flowers, garlands and pictures of the gods, this table was littered with bird claws, bird heads and sigils – ritual markings – in what Temerity thought might be blood – animal or human – marked on white cotton. Grisly. We’re still in horror movie territory.
Temerity wondered if all this belonged to Sally, and then dismissed the thought. As a witch herself she ought to be immune to being suspicious of people because they wore black and were somewhat forbidding in their manner.