No Stranger to Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 1 (20 page)

BOOK: No Stranger to Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 1
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The ploy worked. ‘What’s he done now?’ Kate asked.

‘He as good as told Margaret that he spent Tuesday night with me.’

‘Well, it’s true.’

‘There’s no need to broadcast the fact.’

‘He’s not as private a person as you are. Hardly anyone is, let’s face it. I know you’re finding this hard to accept, but people round here are used to knowing everyone else’s business. And in return, everyone knows theirs.’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that aspect of living in the country,’ Zoe said. ‘I’ve come to realise a city has benefits other than big shops and regular buses. Like privacy.’

‘And don’t forget he’s crazy about you. Your relationship took a significant leap forward the other night and he’ll be wanting to tell everyone. You’re quite a catch, you know.’

Zoe laughed, then clutched her ribs as pain darted up her body. ‘Ow. Maybe I need to take another painkiller.’

Kate fetched her a glass of water before asking, ‘You’re not really going to stop seeing him, are you?’

‘Have I even started? It’s not as though we’ve been out on anything resembling a date yet. We simply stagger from one crisis to another, with lots of arguing in between.’

‘These haven’t been ideal circumstances for starting a relationship. You need to take some time, get to know each other properly and then decide.’

‘I didn’t come here to start a relationship. The most important thing for me now is my job, and that’s not going well either.’

‘What’s happened?’

Zoe described her latest altercation with Walter, and Kate sympathised by telling her that none of her mother’s friends would see him if they could avoid it. Then Zoe asked how research into the American client’s family tree was progressing and Kate showed her what she had discovered so far and explained the process by which she went about tracing a person’s ancestors. It was nearly an hour later when Zoe looked at the time.

‘This is all so interesting but I’d better go home. Poor Mac’s been on his own for too long already. Will you drive me or shall I call the taxi company?’

‘I’ll take you, of course.’

Back at Keeper’s Cottage, Zoe unbuckled her seatbelt and prepared to get out of the car.

‘Do you want to come over to us again later, to avoid seeing Neil and having another row?’ Kate asked.

‘Yours is the first place he looks if I’m not here, remember.’

‘In that case, we’ll go somewhere he’ll never find you.’

‘I should get to bed early after sleeping so badly last night.’

‘Nonsense, you can’t stay home brooding about what happened and worrying Neil might drop in unannounced. I know the perfect place. I’ll pick you up at six. Don’t eat anything beforehand.’

Zoe didn’t feel strong enough to argue. ‘All right. But there is one more thing before you go.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t want anyone else knowing about what really caused me to crash, okay?’

‘Not even Mum?’

‘Especially not your mum. You said yourself she’s upset about Tom. Let’s not add to her worries.’

The sky was darkening when Zoe went indoors and changed into her trousers and boots to take Mac out. Walking slowly up the lane she realised she had not told Kate about her change of heart. She doubted they would be more successful at identifying the killer than the police, but she already felt more in control of events.

As they turned for home an owl swooped across their path and plunged into the hedgerow. Shortly afterwards, Zoe heard several high-pitched squeaks, then silence. The bird flew away, bearing its kill.

 

 

Chapter 24

At just after six that evening, Zoe checked the cottage’s front door was properly locked then got into Kate’s car. Her foot slipped on a discarded crisp packet and she dropped, wincing, on to the passenger seat.

‘Sorry. I must clean this out.’ Kate reached down to scrape up the litter at Zoe’s feet and tossed it behind her. ‘We’re going to Eyemouth. Have you been there yet?’ She leaned over to help Zoe fasten her seatbelt around Paul’s cushion, which she would probably need for a little longer.

‘Not since I moved here. I went diving at St Abbs a few years ago and we had something to eat in Eyemouth afterwards.’

‘Fish suppers, I expect.’

‘Steak, more likely. That’s what I usually eat when I go out.’

‘You can’t go to Eyemouth and not have a fish supper.’ Kate looked genuinely shocked. ‘We’ll put that right tonight.’ She started the car and needed to keep her eyes on the road, so they made no further conversation until they were parked beside Eyemouth harbour half an hour later.

‘It’s very disorientating to see the boats bobbing in the water, isn’t it?’ Kate said, as she released Zoe’s seatbelt. ‘Feels as if it’s you that’s moving, not them.’

Zoe looked past the boats towards an imposing building on the other side of the water. Lights shone in every room and a steady stream of people were making their way up the steps to its front door.

‘That looks very grand,’ she said, pointing.

‘It’s called Gunsgreen House. An eighteenth-century gentleman smuggler built it.’

‘Does anyone live there?’

‘No, but it’s open to the public and used for functions. Someone must be having an early Christmas party. I’m afraid our destination’s a wee bit more modest.’

A queue for takeaways stretched out of the restaurant’s front door. Kate and Zoe sat down at the rear of the small dining area, the only people eating in.

‘This is still the best place for fish and chips in the Borders,’ Kate said. ‘A bunch of us used to come over here when I was a teenager. Tom was the first one to pass his driving test, so he’d borrow Uncle Bob’s car and we all piled into it. Of course the aim then was to drink as much alcohol as possible without our parents knowing.’

‘Do you recommend I have the small or the medium fish supper?’ Zoe asked.

‘The portions here are so huge, even I struggle with the medium. And you’ll want to leave room for a pudding.’

Their young waitress wore rings on all her fingers and both thumbs, and her left ear was adorned with a silver hoop nearly as big as Mac’s collar. She showed little interest in her customers, writing down their orders without making eye contact or saying a word, but her head turned suddenly and the earring swung wildly when Kate asked Zoe, ‘Does Neil have any idea who might have tried to kill you?’

Her earlier shock at the idea of someone rigging Zoe’s car to crash had obviously abated. Zoe smiled weakly and waited for the waitress to drift away before replying.

‘He doesn’t believe it had anything to do with Chrissie Baird’s death.’

‘He can’t think it’s a coincidence.’

‘That’s exactly what I said. But because there’s no obvious link between Chrissie’s death and my car crash, Neil refuses to believe the two things are connected.’

‘Three, if you assume Jimmy was murdered too.’

‘We don’t know that yet.’

‘Hasn’t Erskine told you anything?’

Zoe shook her head, expecting to be challenged, but Kate seemed satisfied. ‘Maybe Neil’s right. I’m no psychologist, but it’s hard to believe all three incidents were the work of one person. They’re too dissimilar.’

‘We don’t know what happened to Chrissie before she was put into the bonfire.’

Some of us do, Zoe wanted to say, but she had promised Mather she would not pass on what he told her about Chrissie’s injuries. Instead, she said, ‘Leaving her aside, knocking an old man into a burn and tampering with a car’s brakes are two completely different approaches to disposing of someone.’

‘They’re both equally cowardly,’ Kate said, ‘but I see what you mean. There’s no pattern, is there? You’d think two deaths and one narrow escape would make identifying the person responsible easier. Instead, things are more complicated.’

‘Perhaps we should be looking for more than one person,’ Zoe said, as the waitress approached them carrying two plates piled high with battered haddock and chips.

‘“We”?’ Kate said.

‘I see what you meant about not eating too much. If these are small portions, how big is a large one?’

‘“We”?’

‘Can I get you anything else?’ Their waitress looked disappointed when Zoe answered no, and moved away.

‘You said “we”.’ Kate stared at Zoe. ‘I thought you’d decided to leave any investigating to the police.’

‘That’s something else I argued about with Neil. He doesn’t think we should get involved, but I already am. I can’t just sit around waiting for something else to happen to me. It’s in my best interest that whoever’s responsible be exposed as soon as possible.’

‘I’m glad you’ve changed your mind, though of course I hate the reason why. I can’t imagine what it must feel like, being the target of such malice.’ Kate speared several chips with her fork and put them into her mouth.

They ate in silence. This was definitely the best fish and chips Zoe had tasted. It was a pity she could not do it justice.

Her plate almost empty, Kate reached for a second piece of buttered bread. ‘So, where do we start?’

‘Perhaps by accepting there isn’t a pattern to what’s been happening.’ Zoe was pleased at the excuse to take a rest from eating and put down her knife and fork.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s tempting to assume the same person who killed both the Bairds also tampered with my brakes. But instead of trying to see the big picture and understand how things fit together, perhaps it would be better if we took one element and examined it closely.’

‘You keep using the word “person”,’ Kate said. ‘I agree it would have been easy to topple Jimmy into the burn with just a shove from behind, but surely it took two people to manhandle Chrissie into the bonfire?’

‘Not necessarily. She was quite small, wasn’t she? Anyway, however many there were, I suggest we ignore what happened to me and come up with the names of people who may have wanted Chrissie and Jimmy dead. Then we concentrate on establishing if they could have done it.’

‘And once we’ve got the answer to that, the reason for what happened to you will become clear.’

‘Exactly. Simple, isn’t it?’ Zoe said with a wry smile.

Their waitress returned several times, ostensibly to check if they had finished eating, each time forcing Kate and Zoe to suspend their conversation until she went away. As soon as they both put their cutlery down for good she appeared once more and slowly cleared the table. Her serving of fruit sorbet to Zoe and a knickerbocker glory to Kate was equally protracted as she fussed around them, fetching fresh paper serviettes and mopping up a spillage of vinegar. However, her customers did not return to the subject of murder until they had turned down coffee and asked for the bill.

‘Now we know what to do, I can’t wait to get started,’ Kate said. ‘What’s first?’

‘I’ve got a couple of provisos before we go any further,’ Zoe said.

‘Which are?’

‘Firstly, we tell no one what we’re doing. We have to stay safe.’

‘I can’t argue with that. I’ve got the bairns to consider, and I certainly don’t want Mum any more worried than she already is.’

‘Good. Secondly, you must agree that if we find out anything definite, anything at all, we go straight to the police with it. We can’t confront a killer ourselves, however much evidence we have.’

‘Okay.’ Kate set about scraping the remainder of her icecream from the bottom of the glass.

Zoe pushed one of the balls of sorbet to the side of her plate.

When they had finished their meal and paid for it, Kate preceded Zoe out of the front door and then surprised her by speeding off in the opposite direction to where the car was parked, towards a large white building with striking black window surrounds. Aware she would be wasting her time calling to someone who could not hear her protests, Zoe followed as quickly as the ever-present pain in her ribs allowed.

The only other people in the pub’s lounge bar were an elderly couple with a Scottie dog in a tartan coat sitting docilely between them. Kate led Zoe to a seat by the window.

‘This was our favourite haunt when I was a teenager with nothing to worry about except boys and spots,’ Kate said. ‘Just one drink and I’ll get you home.’ She crossed the room and peered over the counter into the adjoining public bar, looking for someone to serve her. A few seconds later she hurried back to Zoe.

‘You’ll never guess who’s sat on the other side!’

The elderly couple stared at Kate and whispered to each other.

‘Who?’

‘Alice, that’s who. With a bloke in leather trousers. Come and see.’ Kate practically dragged Zoe over to the bar. ‘Look, in the far corner under the darts board.’

At first, all Zoe could see of the young woman was a curtain of very fair hair obscuring her features. But when she threw back her head and laughed, Zoe recognised the face from the newspaper article she had read in Neil’s kitchen.

‘Who’s that with her?’

‘No idea. Her latest conquest, knowing Alice. She –’

Kate stopped speaking as the door leading to the pub’s toilets opened and another figure ambled into view. Gregor Baird paused to check his flies were properly done up, then walked over to Alice and her companion and sat down.

Before Zoe and Kate could say anything, the barmaid dragged herself away from the conversation which had been more interesting than serving customers. She positioned herself squarely in front of them, obscuring their view into the other bar.

‘What can I get you ladies?’

Kate let out an exasperated sigh and looked ready to shove the woman aside. Zoe had to tap her on the arm to gain her attention. ‘Half a lager, Kate?’

Her friend nodded absently.

‘Make that two, please.’

The barmaid bent down for glasses, temporarily restoring their line of sight. Alice and the two men were deep in conversation, their heads close together.

‘Excuse me,’ Kate called to the barmaid, ‘we’ve decided to have our drinks in the public bar. We’ll see you on the other side.’ She dashed to the table, seized her handbag and made for the door.

Zoe caught up with her outside the building. ‘What are you doing?’

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