Nine Ten Begin Again: A Grasshopper Lawns affair (16 page)

‘Well, how extraordinary. Dead, you say? I hardly knew her, ken, but that’s tragic. Tragic. Perhaps I should contact the Trust? But they may have already made other plans.’

‘I don’t think so, from what Vivian said. So you’re staying here? Small world, again. Three people from the Lawns finding themselves staying in the same hotel in Devon.’

‘Er, no, I’m in a boarding house, yes, down the road. I came in for coffee. So you’re, er, staying here?’

‘Yes.’ She eyed him curiously. She had got to know ‘Of Course’ Kirby fairly well over the last few years and he had always been cheerful and competent. He sounded now as if he was reading off a singularly poor script. Despite Vivian’s teasing, she couldn’t believe his partiality had ever been more than the mildest of flirtations. Maybe he was far more straitlaced than she had ever realized, but he’d said himself that they were consenting adults. ‘Please join me for your coffee. Donald won’t be more than another twenty minutes at most.’

Hamish looked more unhappy than ever, but took a deep breath and nodded.

‘Could we possibly go to your room?’ He seemed to hear what he’d said, even as her eyes rounded in astonishment, and he went purple with horror. ‘I didn’t mean—I only meant I wanted to speak to you, and Donald of course if you prefer, in total privacy!’

‘Oh, Hamish, yes, no problem. We’ve got two rooms and have been using one as more of an office. Get your coffee, I’ll get another one too, and we’ll go on up.’

He seemed to relax as they entered the room, and perched on the very end of the sofa under the window. Rather than risk embarrassing him any further by sitting next to him, she turned round the dressing table chair and sat on that.

‘Do you want to wait for Donald?’

‘Not really. To be honest, I was wondering if you could speak to your niece on my behalf. She’s mebbe more likely to listen to you than to me, she doesnae ken me at all.’

‘So you need the police?’

‘Yes—but you’ll understand when I tell you. I couldn’t just go into a local polis station.’ He took another deep breath. ‘You know my youngest son was killed. He was quite a wild lad, drugs and running with a bad crowd, so it wasn’t entirely a surprise but still a shock, of course. The polis came to see me, told me he’d been knifed and left in an alley. He was carrying identification but I had to formally identify the . . .his body. He looked,’ Hamish looked down and told his coffee, very quietly, ‘he looked peaceful. Younger. Less angry. The Trust said to take off as much time as I needed, to cope with the shock, and organize the funeral.’

He went quiet and Edge waited. It was over a minute before he looked up again. ‘The next day I got a photograph of him dead in the alley, taken before the polis had found him. Nothing else. Only the print. Put through the door, not posted, plain envelope. It shook me quite badly. I couldn’t think how someone could think I would want it.  I threw it away, then I got it out the bin but put it in a drawer, I couldn’t bear to look at it. The day after, I got another plain envelope through the door. A photo of my grandson at playschool.’

‘Oh, Hamish.’ Edge put down her coffee and leaned forward, horrified.

‘Yes. Well. I phoned Stuart, of course, immediately. The boy was fine, already home. I went around to the house, and we talked about it for hours, what it could mean. Sean, too, my other son, we phoned him and he joined us. Whether I should tell the polis, but what could I say, that someone was threatening me? There hadn’t actually been a threat. Finally Sean came home with me. He has a telephone that can record conversations, and we’d agreed wee Hamish would be kept home from playschool. We’d wait to see if anything else came in. Sean set up his phone, left—and had a crash on the way home. His brakes failed. He was fine, just very shaken, got the AA to look at the car there and then, to look for sabotage, before he phoned his insurers to collect the car. They said the brake fluid had drained away, the seal was loose, but it could have been an accident. There was no obvious sabotage, nothing like that. Then I finally got a phone call. I recorded it but it wasn’t threatening, not at all. Very friendly man, saying he’d phoned to see if he could help. Of course I thought one of the lads must have got him to phone, he was so normal, and quite shocked about Sean’s accident and the photographs. He asked what I was going to do next. I said I was feeling very shaken and he suggested taking a bit of time off, if the Trust would let me. I said they’d already offered me time. He said it could all be coincidence but I should probably go to the polis. He said I should first warn the family to be careful, not open the door to strangers, check the brakes before they drove anywhere, keep wee Hamish home from school, be very careful for a while. Good advice.’

He stopped as the door opened and Odette whisked in, nose-bumped Edge and eyed Hamish with caution.

‘God, freezing out there. Are you
still
working—Hamish! This is a surprise. I thought you had a long drive ahead of you?’ Donald shrugged off his heavy greatcoat to throw it onto the bed, and laid the back of his cold hand against Edge’s cheek. ‘Feel that. Sunny Devon. I don’t suppose you got coffee for me? I’ll phone room service, either of you want anything while I do?’

‘I’ll get you coffee.’ Hamish stood up eagerly. ‘Edge can bring you up to date. I’ll be back in a minute.’ He hurried from the room and Edge told Donald what he’d said already. Hamish was as good as his word; she’d barely finished when he returned with an anxious glance into Donald’s frowning face as he joined him on the sofa.

‘I’d have gone to the polis anyway,’ Donald said abruptly. ‘There’s no innocent way you could have got that first photo, but I can see that you would have been bewildered, not threatened, when it arrived. Then knocked completely off balance by the second. Not sure why you still didn’t go, even when the caller suggested it. Who was he, anyway?’

‘That was why I didn’t. I hadn’t caught his name as I’d been fumbling to switch on the recording function, and I couldn’t afterwards remember if he had even given it. I phoned the boys, and they both said they hadn’t spoken to anyone else, so how did this man know if he wasn’t behind it? Which then made all his warnings into threats. Ken, don’t open the door, keep the bairn home. Like he was toying with us. You probably think that sounds paranoid.’

‘No.’ Donald shook his head. ‘You’d be completely off-kilter. So what happened next?’

‘Then I
did
get paranoid. I got a phone call from Jemima Bateman. Introduced herself, very nice, very solicitous. She’d been told I was thinking of taking a sabbatical but that I was concerned about leaving the Trust in the lurch. She said if she could help at all, she would be very willing and I could tell the Trust that Patrick Fitzpatrick could vouch for her, if I wanted to suggest her.’

He avoided looking at Edge, who had stiffened.

‘Patrick’s been the Trust accountant for a long time, I’ve known him for years. But I hadn’t even thought of a sabbatical, ken, let alone discussed it with anyone. I’d been thinking of coming to you, Edge, even then, to talk to your niece, but that slammed the door on that immediately. I knew you and Patrick were old friends. I couldn’t come to you to say Patrick had suggested a replacement bursar so I could go away and that it all stank to high heaven.’

‘Because you knew I’d want to phone him.’ Edge nodded. ‘Did
you
phone him?’

Hamish sighed. ‘I did. Of course. I asked him if he knew a Jemima Bateman and he said yes, he did. I said I’d been wondering if she would be suitable as a bursar, if I asked for a sabbatical, and he said she probably would, if she was available. A politician doing a bursar job, come on, how likely was that? And he didn’t ask why I was thinking of a sabbatical. I thought that would have been a natural question.’

‘Patrick is very tactful. He’d have heard about your son. But yes, I can see how that could also look suspicious.
Do
you want me to phone him?’

‘No!’ Hamish looked horrified. ‘When the family are safe, not before. Now that there are two deaths, I thought your niece could organize protective custody. That’s why I came here, to ask you.’

‘So you
did
know she was dead. I
thought
you were very unconvincing when I told you.’

He looked sheepish. ‘I’m sorry. I haven’t trusted anyone since—well, since this all started. The Patrick connection, it was a shock seeing you here. I hid and watched you leaving the shop, realized you were, er, together. A couple. I followed your car here in a taxi so I knew where you were staying. I’d just reached home again when I got a phone call from Stuart, my oldest boy, to tell me about Jemima. The threat is real, and that means the threat to my grandson is real. I came straight back here determined to tell you everything and get you on my side. And to make sure whoever the next bursar is, they’re protected.’

‘I’ll phone her right now. Donald, do you think we should drive back early, straight after we finish tomorrow?’

‘Yes, I do. Much better to ask Patrick face to face when you can see his reaction, but only once Hamish’s family is safe, and the sooner we can do that, the better. Hamish, what are you going to do? Stay in hiding?’

‘Well—if you’re going back, and if Kirsty believes the story, could I come back with you?’

Donald hesitated, then nodded. ‘You’ll have to share the back seat with Odette, but she sleeps most of the way.’

He added to Edge, when Hamish had thanked them again and left, ‘I thought we had a few more days, now we don’t even have the drive back on our own. Oh well.’

‘You were the one who wanted a steady supply of murders. Can’t get everything you want in life.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I’ll call Kirsty now. What did you want to do about something to eat?’

‘We bought that champagne this afternoon for the weekend, and those cheese biscuit things. Room service? We’re going to be busy solving mysteries when we get home. Could be weeks before we get round to each other again. Not that I mind, but you get a little tetchy without plenty of attention.’

‘Weeks? Really? I hadn’t realized. Well, then, I suppose we really should.’ She nodded demurely. ‘Spend the evening in, I mean. No need to worry about attention, though, not on my behalf. We should get an early night, catch up on our sleep. Long drive tomorrow.’

He grinned appreciatively. ‘That’s probably best. And I should probably sleep in here, for that matter. Anyway, phone Kirsty, give her my best.’ He paused in the doorway, then turned back. ‘You were kidding, right?’

‘Kirsty? Is this a good time, can you talk?’ Edge shooed him away, smiling, and turned away to talk to her niece.

Chapter 9 - Friday December 9th

Return

‘Really? This one?’

Donald kept his voice down, as Hamish was sleeping in the back seat, and wryly glanced across at Edge who was dreamily smiling as she listened to the radio.

‘“Bewitched, bothered and bewildered”? How could it not be one? Don’t laugh at me, I never went through this in my teens, where every song seems it was written only for me. Anyway, you’re the one who keeps retuning the radio to the local oldies waveband. And glancing over whenever you hear one you think applies.’

‘You put out a wave of pheromones,’ he explained patiently. ‘It’s like being poked on the arm. And you weren’t even born when this was a hit, you’re an impossible romantic. I never made a mixer tape in my teens, I shall make one for you. Edge’s Soppy Songs.’

‘That would be lovely, see how many you get right. Although, as I no longer have a tape player, maybe something a tiny bit more up to date would be good too. Switch to Classic FM, if you like, or Radio Two. Do you want me to drive for a while?’

‘I’ve driven the M6 so often I could do it in my sleep. Unless you want a turn, are you bored?’

‘You’re much more patient than I am in heavy traffic. We must have been mad, doing this on a Friday afternoon. Thank God for the toll road but we’ll still be lucky to get back by ten. I’ll phone Vivian again when we pass Manchester
—
we’ll have a better idea by then when we’re arriving
—
but it looks like we’ll have to catch up tomorrow.’ She glanced into the back seat at Hamish, still asleep, and dropped her voice. ‘Kirsty’s not yet confirmed how they’re going to handle the protection, but Iain’s taken it on so it’ll be done. I’m a bit shattered by the Patrick connection, Donald.’

‘It isn’t necessarily a connection. I mean, he may not be behind her phoning, I’d be surprised if he was. All she said was that he would confirm her ability to do the role, and he did.’

‘But at the lunch, when he came through he said she’d been appointed before he became a Trustee. Which is true enough, but he didn’t say
anything
about supporting her appointment.’

‘Devil’s advocate here: if he’d come through to investigate a sheaf of complaints, he wasn’t really about to say an extremely unpopular woman was there because of him. Whether he had engineered it, or whether he had innocently agreed she was capable.’

‘No, you’re right. As soon as we know Hamish’s family are safe I’ll phone and ask him to come over for tea or something. I can’t really go to his place, it would look odd. I never did in the past.’

‘If you invite him over, won’t he think it’s because you want to see him?’