Leila shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. They’ve been friends since they were at school, that’s all it is.’
‘But he goes racing off to her every time anything goes wrong. He went there after the row with Mum, remember? That’s where Uncle Dougal found him, and there’s been other times.’
‘He needs somebody to talk to.’ Although only a little over a year older, Leila could look on things from an adult point of view, whereas her brother’s outlook was still that of a child. ‘Mum always said he was never the same after he came home from the war. We were too young to remember how he was before, but she said he was even-tempered and full of life whereas after he came back she never knew how he’d be, fine one minute and grumpy and short-tempered the next. Mind you, after what he told us he went through as a prisoner of war, it’s not surprising he changed. I’m sure there’s nothing between him and Lexie Fraser, though. He still loves Mum, I know he does.’
Neither of them feeling the need of anything to eat or drink, Leila made David tell her exactly what Eddie Mearns had said, and felt somewhat let down when he couldn’t tell her anything more. They went to bed about a quarter of an hour after their father had gone out, but when, in their separate rooms, they heard him coming in just minutes later, they each decided against going down to ask him why he was home so soon.
Earlier that same evening, Lexie Fraser was making herself some cheese sandwiches as she listened to the end of the six o’clock news on the wireless, but she was interrupted by the bell shrilling on the shop’s small telephone exchange. Laying down the knife, she ran through, plugged in and put on the headpiece. ‘Forvit Post Office.’
‘It’s Nancy, Lexie. Listen, this is going to warm the cockles of your heart. You know I told you Mrs McLeish said she never reported Margaret missing because Tom had said she’d run off with another man? And you said that’s what he’d told the police, as well, but now they’re looking for him again?’
Utterly mystified, Lexie murmured, ‘Yes, I know all that, but what …?’
‘Well, I’ve just had a phone call from Mrs Chalmers in Aberdeen, the other daughter, remember, and speak about blinking coincidences!’
‘Nancy!’ Lexie felt exasperated by the other woman’s habit of spinning out any information she had to give. ‘Will you just tell me what she …’
‘Sorry, I get carried away. She’s just back from a touring holiday on the west coast, and on their way back, they stopped in Inveraray to take a look round, and who do you think they saw coming out of a shop? This is where the coincidence comes in – it was Tom Birnie himself – he’s her brother-in-law, remember. She said her first thought was to confront him there and then, but she knew he’d have bluffed it out and spun her some weird story, so she went into the shop and asked where the nearest doctor lived, because her husband had cut his foot on a piece of glass.’
‘But … but …’ Lexie was absolutely mystified. ‘That wasn’t true, was it?’
‘Of course it wasn’t true. She made it up on the spur of the moment, and I think it was pretty clever of her. Anyway, the shoplady said that Doctor Balfour had been in just a few minutes ago, and he was on his way home, so she gave Mrs Chalmers his address.’
‘So it wasn’t Tom Birnie …?’
‘Lexie, would you use your brains?’ Nancy sounded disappointed with her. ‘He must have moved from Glasgow after the police spoke to him that second time, and changed his name to make it more difficult for them to find him again. He’d likely have got away with it if Mrs Chalmers hadn’t been in that particular place at that particular time. It was fate, Lexie, and don’t you see? Tom Birnie must have something to hide, or he wouldn’t change his name and hide away in a wee place like Inveraray. And now I’m surer than ever that we’ll find Alec, even if he’s changed his name, and all. Somebody’s bound to see him somewhere and recognize him.’
Despite her head still being in a whirl, it occurred to Lexie that Nancy had omitted one vital factor. ‘What’ll happen now, then? Has Mrs Chalmers given Tom’s address to the police …?’
‘I asked her not to. I thought you’d like to tell your detective friend yourself.’
‘I don’t know when I’ll see him.’
Hearing a trace of wistfulness in the words, Nancy said, ‘Friend Birnie won’t be going anywhere – he doesn’t know he’s been spotted – so a few days’ wait won’t matter.’
A sudden strength surged up in Lexie now. ‘I’ll tell him as soon as I can, he comes in quite a lot. Um, Nancy, do you think Tom Birnie would know where my father is?’
‘He might, but don’t bank on it, Lexie.’
‘I won’t. I don’t suppose he’d tell anybody, anyway.’
‘Not likely. Now, you’ll let me know what happens?’
‘Of course I will, and thanks for what you’ve done, Nancy.’
‘My pleasure. I’d like to see that lying devil get his come-uppance for what he did to me, and to other girls, as well, for all I know. Speak to you soon.’
Lexie had just got back to her sandwich-making when Roddy Liddell knocked on her kitchen window, and she signed to him to come in. ‘I’ve got news for you …’ she began, but stopped when she saw how grave his face was. ‘Has something happened? What have you come to tell me?’
‘Let me get you some brandy first, Lexie.’
‘No! Tell me now! It’s about my father, isn’t it?’
‘I’m truly sorry. The excavators turned up another body first thing this morning, but I was under strict orders not to tell you until we learned a bit more about it. The police surgeon’s report on his first examination was that it’s male, probably about five feet eleven in height and around forty years of age …’
‘Oh, God! It is my father, isn’t it? Will I have to … identify him?’
Liddell’s eyes rested on her pityingly. ‘There’s little hope of positive identification, as you might understand after so long, but they kept searching for something that could either point to it being your father, or rule him out altogether, and they were ready to stop for the day when one of the men saw this.’ He took a gold pocket watch from his pocket and held it out to her.
She took it with trembling hands, opened the back with some difficulty and looked at the inscription through a mist of unshed tears. ‘To AWF with all my love CRS, and the date 18.6.1907,’ she read out. She gulped to hide her emotion, but her voice broke several times as she added, ‘My mother gave it to him on their wedding day. His full name was Alexander William Fraser and … he was twenty at the time. Her name was Caroline Ross Shewan and she was nineteen.’ She stopped to clear her throat, but was overcome with the tears she could contain no longer.
Gathering her into his arms awkwardly, he let her weep, murmuring gentle words of comfort against her hair, and when the dreadful heaving sobs eased, he kissed her cheek, the salt taste of her tears making him ache with pity for her. ‘I feel as if I’d betrayed you, Lexie,’ he murmured. ‘If it had been up to me, I’d have come straight here when I was told they’d found him, but my Super was there, and God knows who else, and they watched me like a hawk so I couldn’t slip away. They said they weren’t sure whose body it was, but I knew right from the start, and I’m so sorry, my dear.’
Her thoughts were so concentrated on the news he had given her that the endearment was lost on her. ‘It’s all right, Roddy. I know it wasn’t your fault, but I’m so mixed up I don’t know what to think about anything.’
The exhaustion of her torrent of weeping sounded in her voice, and he said, ‘Don’t think about it yet, Lexie. Wait till you’re …’
‘I can’t help thinking about it. I’m glad they found him, it proves he didn’t kill Mrs Birnie, but on the other hand … well, he’s my father, and he’s dead, and …’
‘Isn’t it better to know for sure than to keep on wondering? At least, as you said, we know he’s innocent, but we still have to find Birnie. He’s the only suspect now.’
Her head snapped up. ‘I forgot
! That’s what I was going to tell you. Nancy Lawrie rang up and gave me his address.’
He listened, amazed, as she told him how Mrs Birnie’s sister had accidentally run him to ground, and then he said, ‘Well that’s good news. Thank goodness we’ve got something positive on him at last. We’ll get the bugger now. I’m sure it was him. I felt it all along. May I use your phone to let my Super know?’
‘I’ll put you through.’
Once she connected him, she left him to pass on the most important piece of information they’d had so far, and went back to sit by the fire. It was a mild evening so she wasn’t cold, but the heat gave her some comfort, and as her feelings metaphorically thawed out, she was ashamed for having broken down so completely in front of Roddy, though he’d been like a rock to her. She wouldn’t have been able to stop crying at all if he hadn’t been there.
She felt a little shy with him when he came through from the shop again, beaming as he sat down beside her. ‘Well, that’s the last stage set in motion, but I’ll stay on with you for a while, till you get over the shock a bit. The Super understands how upset you must be, and said I can stay for as long as you need me. I parked the car at the other end of the village, so the neighbours won’t have any cause to gossip. How are you feeling now?’
‘Much better, thanks to you. I’d have gone to pieces if you hadn’t …’
‘Lexie, I know this isn’t an appropriate time, but I have to know if …’ He looked away in some embarrassment, and his voice was barely audible as he went on, ‘I need to know if there’s any chance for me. If there’s not, don’t be afraid to say, and I’ll never mention it again.’
It took a moment for her to understand what he meant, and it was surprise as much as shyness that held her back from throwing her arms round his neck. ‘It’s OK, Roddy,’ she said, cautiously, ‘I’ve been hoping you’d …’
Taken abruptly into his arms, she gave herself up to the thrill of his kisses, but they ended just as abruptly. ‘No, Lexie dear,’ he murmured, as she tried to kiss him again, ‘now I know how you feel, this can wait … till we get Tom Birnie safely behind bars.’
As usual while driving down the track, it took all Alistair’s concentration to avoid the sharp stones which could slash his tyres, so he was on the road before he could do any thinking. If it really was Alec Fraser’s body that had been found, everything pointed to Tom Birnie being the killer. There was nobody else it could have been. Poor, poor Lexie. What a state she must be in.
It didn’t take long for him to reach the village, and he drew into the little side lane some distance from the shop. The only other vehicle in sight was the little red Post Office van at Sandy Mearns’s gate, and he didn’t want Aggie or Doodie Tough or any of the other scandalmongers, to see his A40 outside the shop and make something out of nothing. It wouldn’t be fair to Lexie.
He closed his car door quietly and walked along to the opening through to her house. It was getting quite dark, yet her light wasn’t on and he hoped that she hadn’t gone out, though she would be needing company after what she’d been told today. As he stood uncertainly, wondering what to do, he could see the flickering of the fire through the curtains, so she couldn’t have gone far. She had told him once that she didn’t lock her porch door if she wasn’t going to be out long, so she likely wouldn’t mind if he went in to wait for her.
In case she was inside sleeping off the effects of long bouts of weeping, he made no sound as he turned the handle with great caution, stepped gingerly over the threshold then closed the door carefully behind him. The door into the kitchen was half open, and there she was on the couch … but not asleep. For a few moments, transfixed by the sight of the detective with his arms around her, Alistair stood with his mouth agape, until a weird sensation started in his innards. If he had loved Lexie, he’d have sworn it was jealousy, but he didn’t, so it wasn’t – it couldn’t be? It was just shock at seeing her being kissed so ardently by a man … especially this man.
The pair were so absorbed in each other that they weren’t aware of his presence, so he backed out on tiptoe, took time to close the door silently again and stumbled to his car on legs that felt as heavy as tree trunks. Then he plumped down in the driver’s seat to start the engine. He had to think, but not here – not so near.
Arriving back at Benview, he went straight to bed to consider what he had seen. It was strange, really, that Lexie hadn’t met somebody long before this. But that ’tec? He wasn’t a good choice. What could she see in him? Had it been reaction to what he’d told her? Or had he taken advantage of her vulnerability?
Alistair stretched out to the chest of drawers for his cigarettes and lighter, but as the flame ignited, it dawned on him that, although he had never actually loved Lexie, he had always been sure that she loved him. Was that why he felt so betrayed?
David was surprised to hear his father’s car coming back after just twenty minutes. What had happened at Lexie Fraser’s house? If only Mum was here. If he knew where she was, he’d write and beg her to come home. She wouldn’t know about poor Auntie Marge, of course, and she’d be terrible upset when she did.
Oh, this was awful! How could he sleep with all these thoughts jumbling round in his head? Maybe he should try reading? He’d read all his comics, though, and Mum had made him put all his books in the cupboard on the landing on the shelf under hers and Dad’s. He might as well take a look. There might be one he hadn’t read.
Jamming his feet into his slippers, he crept across his bedroom and inched the door open to save it squeaking, then stepped along the landing to the next door, which was a bit trickier. He held his breath at the three long creaks it gave before he got it open, but nobody shouted at him so he felt for the flashlight Mum kept there because there wasn’t an electric point. The weak beam wavered along the row, Treasure Island, Huckleberry Finn, The Last of the Mohicans, Children of the New Forest, two of the Biggles series. He’d read them all … two or three times. Looking up at the shelf above, he didn’t fancy any of Dad’s books, Dickens and that crowd would be dull and boring. C.S. Forester’s The African Queen sounded a bit more promising, though, at least it looked action-packed.
Settling down in bed again, he pulled out a bookmark and wondered why Dad hadn’t finished the book. Then he remembered seeing Mum reading it. She probably hadn’t finished it when she went away, and Dad must have put it back in the cupboard.
The bookmark however, wasn’t a bookmark, he discovered. It was a letter from somebody called Tilly to his mother, dated 1 March 1948, telling her that Ivy Crocker had died. It ended, ‘Remember, if you’re ever anywhere near Newcastle, Fred and I would love to see you again.’
The name Tilly was vaguely familiar, and he pondered over where he could have heard or seen it before. She lived near Auntie Ivy … where Mum had gone when she had the baby. Did Tilly know about that? He hadn’t known himself at the time, not till Dad had told him and Leila what had happened. He still couldn’t fathom out all the ins and outs of it, some things still puzzled him. Was Nicky his brother, for instance? They had the same mother, but apparently Uncle Ken was Nicky’s father. That’s what had caused all the trouble.
Out of nowhere, it suddenly struck David where he had seen the name Tilly before. She sent Mum a Christmas card every year. ‘Love from Tilly and Fred’, she always put, the same as the letter. His heart skipped a beat. Was that where Mum was? Dad said he had no idea, nobody had.
A warm excited glow began to spread through the boy’s rapidly-cooling body. If he could trace her and get her to come home, it would make up for being to blame for the burst-up in the first place. If he hadn’t shown Dad those snaps …
Yes! It was all up to him now.
Chapter 34
Roddy Liddell had spent an almost sleepless night, but it wasn’t the murder investigation which had kept him awake. Yesterday had been quite a momentous day for him, apart from the unearthing of Alec Fraser’s body. He had more or less told the dead man’s daughter ho
w he felt about her, and wonder of wonders, she had said she felt the same. Perfect result, despite the bad timing.
But he’d have to put it on a back burner meantime. For now, he had to concentrate on tracking down that damned murdering doctor, whatever name he was calling himself. He had contacted Mrs Chalmers first thing this morning, and was inclined to believe, from the way she spoke, that it really was Tom Birnie she had seen, and that she wasn’t one of the cranks they sometimes had to put up with. She had understood that she would be called as a witness at the trial, and said she would be happy to let the whole world know the kind of rotter her brother-in-law had been and obviously still was.
Of course, Liddell warned himself, the case might never come to trial if the man was as accomplished a liar as it appeared. Mrs Chalmers’ evidence was only second-hand; it was her deceased sister’s word against a desperate Birnie’s. It would be impossible to make people believe that a doctor as well respected as he had been in Forvit, and likely in Glasgow and Inveraray too, would have illicit associations with young girls. He would deny it, no doubt about that, and look suitably horrified that his wife’s sister would even think such things about him. What Nancy Lawrie could say would be more effective, if she was willing to testify, although, again, the swine would probably deny everything, and accuse her of telling lies out of spite because he had rebuffed her advances.
In any case, would she be capable of describing to a crowded court what he had done to her? Could he put her through such an ordeal … even for Lexie’s sake? Infidelity was not enough to convict a man for murder, nor was fathering a child on a woman not his wife, nor was breach of promise. The whole investigation was liable to collapse, with not even the smallest piece of circumstantial evidence to go on. What could anybody expect after twenty years? Tom Birnie’s method of killing his two victims and his reason for so doing were likely to remain his secret for evermore.
The Back of Beyond Page 43
