by Sue Lawrence
There was a rap on the door, first a gentle tap, then a loud knock. ‘Jessie, are you in there? Is the baby with you?’ The voice was urgent.
‘We seem to have visitors. Even more reason for you to hurry up and tell me where the real diamond is.’
‘But that’s all I ever had, Martha. That one in the box.’ Jessie’s voice sounded hoarse but she took a sip of water then yelled as loudly as she could, ‘She’s safe, Rona, she’s—’
‘Rona can’t hear a thing, Jessie. The door’s locked and your voice is a whisper. That diamond Effie left you – the one in her will, remember? The real one that she had valued at £25,000 in 1935? Worth a hell of a lot more now. I’ve done my research and a rare D colour stone like hers, it’d sell for well over £600,000.’ Martha smirked. ‘That’d set me up just swell.’
‘How do you …?’
‘How do I know about that?’
The frantic knocking at the door stopped and there was the sound of footsteps disappearing fast along the corridor.
‘You seem to forget I had access to everything as your power of attorney, so it wasn’t difficult to persuade that dim new lawyer to tell me what Effie left you in her will. Then,’ Martha smirked, ‘I made good friends with that jeweller in Goldenacre to find out more about the diamond and what it’s worth.’
Jessie tried to shift up the bed but her feet were still trapped.
‘Here’s what we’re going to do, Jessie. You are going to tell me where the real diamond is and …’
The baby began to whimper.
‘And if not, it won’t only be you dying in a horrible fire, but so will the kid.’ Martha delved in her back pocket and brought out a shiny lighter. She flicked it on and a tall flame shot up. Her lips curled into a menacing sneer then she walked over towards the curtains. She lifted one heavy drape in her hand and yanked it open. Outside the fog hung thick in the air; the atmosphere in the room was heavy, stifling.
Jessie shifted up the pillow and tucked both hands at her back as if relieving pain. ‘Please let the baby go, Martha. I don’t mind dying, I’m old, but this wee mite, she’s—’
‘She’s beginning to annoy me, that’s what she’s doing.’
Hannah was now crying loudly. Martha peered in the pram and shook her head. ‘See, I never get the attraction of babies. What’s the big deal? Look at her, all red-faced and squirming.’
‘Please let Rona come and take her away. I’ll tell you where it is, I promise, but the baby needs her mother.’
The door flew open and Rona rushed in. She ran towards the pram and scooped up the baby, clasping her to her chest. ‘Sweetheart, are you all right? There, there, everything’s fine. Mummy’s here.’
Martha slipped behind Rona, removed the spare key from the outside of the door and locked it from the inside. She rammed both keys in her pocket.
‘Rona, welcome to the party. Now shut the frickin’ brat up!’
Rona spun round. ‘I have no idea what you’re doing in here or with my baby, Martha, but I’m going to take her back downstairs with me. Unlock the door. Now.’ Rona’s heart was pounding, her hands shaking as she clutched Hannah tight.
‘No problem, Rona, I just need to ask Jessie a very simple question one more time. If she won’t answer, sad to say, we’re all in this together.’ Martha brought out her lighter and flicked it then adjusted the flame to high. She headed for the window and held it near one curtain, her eyes glinting.
Rona felt a cold rush of terror. She bent down to kiss Hannah’s downy head, while keeping Martha in her gaze.
Jessie glugged some water then spoke in a hoarse voice. ‘It’s here, in the room, Martha. It’s there, in the pram, I put it in there for safe keeping.’ She nodded at the pram. ‘Look for yourself, then please, just leave. Go. Go back to Canada. We’ll not bother you. Just take it and go.’
Jessie placed both hands behind her pillow as Martha flung a blanket and a little pink teddy bear then the mattress onto the floor. She scoured around inside, tracing her hand all over. There was nothing there. ‘Where, Jessie?’
Rona stepped forward, turning her body so the baby was at the other side from Martha. ‘Jessie, you slipped those little bootees into the pram yesterday, was it in one of those?’
Jessie nodded and she and Rona looked at Martha who was rolling her thumb along the lighter.
Martha raised an eyebrow. ‘Where are they now, Rona?’
‘In our bedroom, in the baby’s drawer. Can I go and get them?’
‘Sure.’ Martha pocketed the lighter and stretched out both her hands. ‘But just to make sure you come back up here with them, give the kid to me. Now!’
There was a sudden noise and they all flinched. It was the foghorn booming out on the Forth. Jessie screwed up her eyes tight as she had a flashback to many years before, in the kitchen of the lodge house. She tugged her arm out from behind the pillow. ‘Rona, take this!’ She thrust her hand towards Rona.
‘What the hell is that, bitch?’ Martha jumped back.
Rona swiped the gutting knife from Jessie’s hand, clutching the baby tight to her chest with her other arm. An icy primitive fear overwhelmed her. In her hand she held a knife with which she could kill. And if Martha threatened her baby again, she would.
Jessie slumped back against the pillow. ‘Who are you really, Martha? How did you find out about me?’
Martha moved her feet apart as if getting better balance then glanced from the tip of the knife to Jessie. ‘Bertha’s son, Peter, was a bad man, a double murderer, much older than me, but I loved him. He taught me loads.’
‘Were you in prison?’
‘The fire I’d made was perfect, but the kids got out, then they recognised me.’
‘You tried to kill people? Arson?’ Rona kept trying to hold the knife steady while Hannah jiggled about.
‘Yeah, an arsonist, that’s me. I was in a fire myself when I was ten. We all got out okay but it has fascinated me ever since. Then I found out about you, Jessie, and the diamond and, well, the rest is history.’ She began to move towards Rona. ‘No way will you use that knife, Rona. You’re too nice, too sweet, too kind and—’
Rona thrust the knife forward at Martha who swerved away just as the blade nicked her arm. There was a crash behind them as the door swung open. Two policemen ran in, one grabbing Martha and yanking her arms behind her back, the other taking the knife from Rona. Craig and Ian rushed in and Rona ran to her husband, bursting into tears as she flung herself and the baby into his arms.
Chapter 57
1982
Rona gazed down at her tiny daughter as she suckled. She wanted to inhale her wonderful scent forever. After last night, she seemed even more precious, if that were possible.
There was a knock at the door.
‘Come in, Mum.’
Morna entered carrying two mugs of tea.
‘What time is it?’ Craig rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. ‘God, it’s half past eight, I’ve got to get to work.’ He jumped out of bed.
‘Craig, that nice nurse Fay came to the door just now. She asked if you could go and see her as soon as possible. She said to tell you you’ve to call Purves and that they have procedures in place, whatever that means.’
Rona sighed. ‘Oh no, another death. Go and see who it is, Craig. Hope it’s not dear old Mr Burnside, he wasn’t great yesterday.’
Craig pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt and went to the door. ‘I’ll just nip out and see what they need doing.’ He took a gulp from the mug. ‘Did that actually happen last night? It was like a nightmare.’
‘Certainly was for Jessie and me.’ Rona turned to the window where her mum was opening the curtains. ‘Oh, the fog’s gone, looks like a nice day.’
‘There was a shower earlier but it’s sunny now. There was a beautiful rainbow a wee while ago.’ Morna sat down on the bed beside Rona and stroked her granddaughter’s plump cheek. She sighed. ‘Did you have any idea that woman was so … so evil?’
&nb
sp; Rona shrugged. ‘Mrs Bell used to call her Lady Macbeth and warned us to watch her, but I would never have imagined what she was capable of. Or what she was prepared to do last night.’ Rona shivered. She lifted Hannah’s chubby hand and kissed the tiny fingers.
‘Did you actually do her any damage with that knife?’
‘I would have killed her, Mum. I mean, I’d have stabbed her through the heart if she’d come any nearer Hannah.’
‘It’s amazing what a mother would do for her young.’
‘I think I just grazed her arm. There wasn’t much blood. I remember looking at the floor when the policemen were dragging her away and thinking we wouldn’t need to get a new carpet, it’d just need a good scrub. Funny how your mind works.’ Rona looked at the clock. ‘Can’t believe we slept in.’
‘It was well after three when you eventually got to bed. The police will be coming back this morning, I presume?’
Rona nodded. ‘Thanks again for calling 999, Mum. If you’d left it to Craig and Ian, they might’ve tried their heroics again and it could all have ended so badly.’
Rona removed Hannah from her breast and handed her to Morna, who snuggled Hannah into her shoulder, rubbing her back with the palm of her hand.
‘What I’ve been wondering, Mum, is how on earth Jessie had a knife under her pillow? It looked ancient.’
‘It was a herring gutter’s knife. It was just like my granny’s, remember Granny C who was a fisherlassie in Stornoway?’
Rona nodded. ‘That poor woman, she must’ve been tormented for the past three years since Martha moved in. Well, we’ll be able to make her nice and comfy in here now.’
The door opened and Craig stood there, shaking his head.
‘What?’
‘It wasn’t Mr Burnside, Rona.’ He walked towards the bed and sat down. ‘It’s Jessie. Fay reckons she must’ve died about an hour ago. Peacefully, in her sleep.’
Rona sighed. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Bless her, the shock must have done it. I wish I’d killed Martha, she deserved it.’
‘Forget about her, Rona. Fay said Jessie was lying flat on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest as if she’d been somehow ready to die.’ Craig fished in his back pocket. ‘There’s a note.’ He handed it to Rona who began to read.
Dear Rona and Craig,
It is 6 a.m. I have not been able to get back to sleep since you left with the police, so I thought I would write you this note.
I placed the diamond in your pram for Hannah. I am so sorry I caused your beautiful little daughter to be in such danger.
Something good must come out of what has happened and I feel now, by giving this to you, I might lift the curse that has hung over me all my life. They used to call me Winzie when I was younger. I shall not go to my death cursed, of that I am sure.
I now feel safe in the knowledge that Martha has gone forever out of my life. I’ll shut my eyes and sleep, a long peaceful sleep, perhaps one without any dreams at all.
The diamond is now in your care. Use it as you wish.
Yours,
Jessie Mack
Tears trickled down Rona’s cheeks.
‘Mum, can you go over to Hannah’s second drawer down, please? Bring over the brand new pink bootees?’
Morna hoisted Hannah onto her other shoulder then opened the drawer and lifted out a tiny pair of knitted bootees. She handed them to Rona who loosened the ribbons. Rona slipped her fingers inside one but there was nothing. Then she felt something bulge inside the other. She pulled it out. It sparkled and shone. It was a huge, glittering diamond.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Anne Dow, Elisabeth Hadden and Isabelle Plews for reading and commenting wisely.
Thanks also to Fiona Campbell, Mary Duckworth, Anna Hadden, Gordon Hay, Margaret Hickey, Sheila Jardine, Michael Laing, Ann McCluskey, Val Rankine, Flora Sharp and Stephen Turner for their help and professional advice.
Thank you, as always, to my brilliant agent, Jenny Brown, for her encouragement, support – and patience.
Thanks also to my excellent editor, Anita Joseph, to Katharine Allerton for her editorial assistance, and to all the wonderful team at Saraband for their commitment to this book.
About the Author
As well as writing two very popular and well-reviewed historical thrillers, The Night He Left and Fields of Blue Flax, Sue Lawrence is one of the UK’s leading cookery writers, with eighteen published cookbooks. Having trained as a journalist in Dundee, she won BBC’s MasterChef in 1991 and became a food writer, regularly contributing to Scotland on Sunday, the Sunday Times and many leading magazines. Born in Dundee and raised in Edinburgh, she now lives near Newhaven in North Edinburgh. She has won two Guild of Food Writers Awards and a Glenfiddich Food and Drink Award.
By the Same Author
Also by Sue Lawrence:
Fields of Blue Flax
The Last Train
Copyright
Contraband is an imprint of Saraband
Published by Saraband,
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Glasgow, G3 6HB
and
Published by Saraband,
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Copyright © Sue Lawrence 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without first obtaining the written permission of the copyright owner.
ISBN: 9781912235339
ebook: 9781912235346
Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, Elcograf S.p.A.
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