Ledmore Junction

by Ian Todd

  “Christ!” he grunted, haudin his breath, listening intently, as he reached doon and silently slipped the ten-inch blade oot ae the tap ae his welly boot.

  He quickly drapped doon oan tae the flat ae his back, squeezing his frame and legs intae the crevice at the base ae the rock as best he could, keeping his eyes peeled skywards. He felt his heartbeat thumping against his breast as a light sprinkling ae rain started tae land oan his face, tickling the skin and causing him tae blink every few seconds. The growl hid been close by. Whose dug wis it, he wondered? He’d come across maist ae the collies in the area at wan time or another. Some far mair friendly than others. The loose, rocky shingle that hid dampened his landing, wis noo digging in tae his back in two places. Tae make matters worse, oan his left haun side, he could feel the freezing water that gathered in wee pools at the base ae the rocks, seeping through his turtleneck collar and trooser leg. His body instinctively wanted tae shift away fae the cauld intrusion, while his brain tried tae cope wae the sharp stanes digging in tae his back, as he fought tae stay focussed oan whit wis happening above him. He strained his ears, listening intently. Hid he been imagining the presence ae the dug? He didnae think so. Despite the rushing ae the wind and the deafening sound ae the crashing surf, sizzling loudly each time the waves receded fae the rocks oan the other side ae the eight-fit tall boulder he wis lying under, a dug oan the prowl wis a different proposition aw thegither. They must be getting confident, he telt himsel, listening tae the sounds ae the activity that wis taking place thirty or so yards fae where he wis lying. As far as he’d been aware, there hidnae been dugs oan the go since his original discovery jist efter the bells oan Hogmanay when Robbie hid alerted him that something wis afoot. It widnae hiv been the first time that young, townie, student types, hid arrived and set up camp oan Achmelvich Beach tae see in the New Year. It didnae usually bother him, apart fae the empty cans and bottles they left behind, scattered aboot. When he’d gone tae investigate, the beach and machair hid been deserted. Jist as he’d been turning tae go back inside, he’d momentarily caught sight ae a light that looked tae hiv disappeared roond the wee heidland that led intae Vestey’s Bay. He’d wondered if his eyes hid been playing tricks oan him or if whit he’d seen hid been a distant flicker fae wan ae the fishing boats oot oan The Minch, chasing the mackerel south between the Garrabost Peninsula oan Lewis and where he’d been staunin in Assynt. It hid been the fact that it hid been efter midnight and high tide that hid convinced him that whit he’d spotted hid been far closer tae hame. He suddenly felt his body tense before his brain kicked in. He saw the eyes, like two dark, shining stars, staring doon intae the black void tae where he wis lying, before the shape ae the snout and nose came intae focus. The patched, black and white face ae the collie wis looking straight doon at him. It appeared tae be looking straight in tae his soul. He could tell that it wis unsure ae itsel, as it sniffed the air between them. He hidnae hid a bath in six weeks since he’d fallen aff the boat intae The Minch drunk, efter spending the night in an alcove sheltering fae a storm. He held his breath as he felt his fingers tighten oan the handle ae the blade. Fae his position, he could see that it wis a big beast ae a thing. He’d need tae catch it mid-flight, he thought tae himsel, if he wis tae escape detection. He couldnae allow it tae bark. It wis leaning doon intae the hollow between the boulder and the rock face, sniffing. Its neck looked tae be stretched tae capacity as it appeared tae hunker doon oan its front shoulders and a wee flurry ae stanes and dirt scattered aff the edge ae the gap, landing oan his face, as it quickly backed aff, tae avoid tumbling doon tae where he wis lying. He held his breath, trying tae ignore the gritty soil in his eyes, causing them tae start smarting and filling wae tears, blinding him. It turned its heid, looking towards the sounds ae activity behind and beyond where he wis lying. It wis noo staunin up, still unsure, back tae looking doon at him. It let oot a wee, frustrating whine, still clearly no convinced that something or somewan wisnae hiding doon in the crevice. He could jist detect the sound ae its nails scraping against the rock above the roar ae the surf, as it pawed in frustration, sending mair wee bits ae debris doon oan tae his face. Baith his and the dug’s ears pricked up. There wis nae mistaking the sound ae the low whistle. The collie looked towards where the sound hid come fae, hesitating, looking doon at him again, before it eventually took the decision that wid save its life, quickly disappearing as quietly as it hid arrived a few minutes earlier. He lay motionless fur a full two minutes, before struggling oot ae the narrow crevice and staunin up. He felt rivulets ae water running doon fae his neckline oan tae his chest and back between his cagoule and jumper, while the wetness reached the toes ae his left fit, as he grabbed a hold ae the natural grips oan the big rock wae baith hauns and heaved himsel up. The Pride Ae Assynt, Angus MacKenzie’s fishing skiff, wis bobbing aboot, ten feet aff the shore line…an ideal boat fur inland fishing and smuggling aff the wild waters ae the west coast. As before, they’d set up a mobile pulley between the deck ae the skiff and the back ae wan ae the Bedford trucks. There wur three dark bodies oan the skiff, presumably Angus being wan ae them, and a further four beside the pulley attached tae the back ae the truck oan the beach. The two staunin oan the sand released the boxes, before heaving the eight stone ae fish in each ae them up tae the pair who wur up oan the bed ae the truck. Wance the first truck wis loaded, the other wan wis reversed intae place and the operation continued. He watched them fur forty-five minutes. He thought he could hear snatches ae conversations, caught oan the wind, bit he couldnae be sure. Every noo and again, the big collie appeared fae between the wheels, causing him tae duck doon oot ae sight. It wis the two diesel engines coughing intae life that alerted him that the night’s work wis done. By the time he’d peeked o’er the tap ae the boulder again, Angus wis awready heidin oot intae deeper water and the two trucks, wae their laden load, wur slowly moving aff the beach and up oan tae the ancient track that ran past Little Vestey’s Croft, that hid been there fur as long as smugglers hid existed in Assynt and Sutherland. He drapped back doon oan tae the shingle and waited until they’d disappeared o’er the brow ae the hill. He knew Heckie MacLeod wid hing back fur a bit, waiting and watching, tae make sure there wis nae prowling eyes watching whit hid been gaun oan. Efter fifteen minutes, he placed baith hauns between the boulder and the rock face, using his feet in tandem wae his erms tae climb up and oot ae the rock jamb. Wance up oan tap, he rested, catching the lamp ae the Pride Ae Assynt bobbing oan the swell as it slowly made its way roond the heidland, tae return tae port at Lochinver, six miles as the crow flew fae where he wis sitting.

  Unknown tae him or Heckie MacLeod, Johnboy sat waiting fur Flintlock McBean tae make a move fur hame. He looked at his watch, the green luminous hauns reflecting aff the moon, that hid momentarily appeared oot ae the shadows ae the heavy clouds above him, before disappearing jist as quickly as it hid appeared.

  “Three twenty-five,” he murmured tae Mr Hopkins, who wis lying curled up beside him, despite the wind getting up, gusting roond aboot them. “Let’s hope Sleeping Beauty isnae staunin behind that front door ae oors wae a frying pan in her haun, eh?” he chuckled, willing Grizzly Chop Face tae get that arse ae his in gear.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  “We’ve found her,” Heckie announced, entering the office.

  “Who?” The Laird asked, looking up, taking aff his glasses and laying them oan the desk in front ae him.

  “Angelina MacLeod. After disappearing from here, she started working in Dumfries, but left after only six months. She then found a job in Alexandria, Dunbartonshire, where she stayed for two years before moving to Glasgow. She’s been a district nurse in a place called Garthamlock for the past two and a half years.”

  “Garthamlock?”

  “She lives alone, in a flat, on…on Shettleston Road,” he said, looking at the piece ae paper in his haun.

  “Shettleston? Another crime-ridden dump. Why would anyone want to move from a place like Lochinver to there?”


  “Well, at least it proves there doesn’t appear to be any emotional ties to Little Vestey’s Croft,” The Factor said.

  “I wonder,” The Laird mused, drumming his fingers oan desk. “She upset a lot of people by insisting that the funeral take place in Golspie…by invite only.”

  “Old Anchris was never popular. It was Reverend MacKenzie I felt sorry for. Seemingly, the minister who conducted the service didn’t even know the family. What was that all about?”

  “She was stubborn, but I blame McBean and those two cronies of his. They were the ones who were pulling the strings behind her. If it wasn’t for them, I would’ve had Little Vestey’s Croft in the bag years ago. It would’ve saved me, and old Anchris, a lot of grief.”

  “So, what do you want me to do, sir?”

  “We’ll have to be careful. What was the value Galbraith’s put on it?”

  “Two and a half thousand…that’s including the hundred and seventy acres.”

  “Get in touch with Galbraith’s. Ask them to get in touch with the daughter. Tell them that they haven’t to mention that it’s Assynt Development Holdings that’s the interested party. Also inform them that we’re prepared to pay three thousand, plus take care of the legal costs of the sale. There has to be no negotiations. Have you got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What?”

  “Er, what happens if she refuses…to sell, I mean?”

  “Why wouldn’t she? There’s no housing market up here, despite Newton’s of Dingwall running buses to the oil fabrication yard at Nigg and the smelter at Invergordon. You said so yourself, Heckie. She’s clearly broken any ties with Assynt. Once old Anchris died, that was that. Angelina MacLeod was the last branch of the family. She’d be lucky to get anywhere near two and a half thousand for that dump. What?”

  “She’s already getting two streams of income. Granted, the rent for old MacRae’s sheep to graze is peanuts, but there’s still the rent for the crofthouse from the present tenants.”

  “I thought you were dealing with that?”

  “I am, sir, but there doesn’t appear to be much movement, at least, not that I’m aware of. Ishbel told me only yesterday that the nurse is still harping on about how wonderful the area is to work and live in.”

  “Has she mentioned the crow being nailed to the front door?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then we’ll just have to increase our means of persuasion, Heckie. The land surrounding Little Vestey’s Croft is critical to our economic strategy. If those sitting tenants discover what we’re up to, they could do us a lot of damage. You’ll have to up the ante.”

  “I met the boy…live-in boyfriend. Talk about being insolent?”

  “Oh?”

  “He was hanging about outside the Spar shop. Sitting drinking a bottle of pop. If you think the nurse’s accent is bad, you should hear his. He wanted to know if there was a bookshop in the area. I pointed him in the direction of Achins…knowing full well that it was closed on a Tuesday,” he said, as they baith laughed. “He looks trouble.”

  “All the more reason to get them out of that property, Heckie. The longer they’re living up there, the more chance they have of making life difficult for us further down the track. What’s the situation with young PC MacKenzie?”

  “Lachlan? He went up and spoke to the boyfriend, the author. He claimed that him and McBean had never met, despite the fact that they were spotted having a heated exchange in the car park at the back of the hall, the day of the reopening. Interestingly, the maid intervened between them, before McBean sped off.”

  “Has MacKenzie…Lachlan, interviewed the nurse?”

  “No, sir. He said there wasn’t any point, seeing as her boyfriend claimed there hadn’t been an incident involving a shotgun up at Happy Horizons.”

  “Fair enough. Something doesn’t feel right about this pair, Heckie. Why would they not want someone like McBean charged? I mean, he threatened him with a loaded shotgun. Look, get in touch with Galbraith’s today. The quicker we get our hands on that property, the better I’ll feel. In the meantime, keep the pressure on the nurse and that man of hers. If we can get them out, and soon, it’ll mean Angelina MacLeod won’t have an income from the property. It’s a well-known fact that nurses aren’t paid too well. I’ll be in Glasgow next week. I’ll see if I can come up with any background on that pair. Did PC Mackenzie get his details?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  “He said, that despite asking, the boy hedged and wouldn’t give him his name. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional. He also said that he came across as being hostile, which was my own impression after meeting him outside the Spar.”

  “I see. Look, see what you can come up with. If you get a name, get in touch, even if you have to phone the office in Glasgow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  “Noo, remember, it’s best behaviour the night. These ur decent people,” Senga reminded Johnboy, as she knocked oan the cottage door.

  “Aye, Ma,” he replied, in a wee boy’s voice, smiling.

  He looked at her. She smelt and looked stunning. Jist before they left the crofthoose, she’d turned tae him.

  “Well, whit dae ye think then?” she’d asked. “Dae ye think Ah should wear mair make-up? Ah think they’re aw a bit aulder than us. It wid make me look a bit aulder.”

  Make-up? Christ, anywan wid’ve thought she wis heiding oot wae the lassies in the toon. She rarely wore make-up when she went oot…she didnae need tae. She’d been staunin there in a black mini dress wae a white collar and matching cuffs. She’d telt him it wis wan ae two Coco Chanel dresses Kim Sui hid gied her and Pearl, alang wae a horde ae other clothes fae DIRTY JAKE’S BOUTIQUE, which Kim Sui ran doon oan Buchanan Street fur Jake McAlpine, wan ae The Mankys. Kim Sui wis Tony’s pregnant girlfriend. She’d her blonde hair up at the back, held in place wae Kirbys, accentuating her neck and the wee black diamond stud earrings, behind a wisp ae blond hair hinging doon either side ae her face. Below the dress, she’d been wearing black sheer tights and shiny black, high-heeled laced sandals. Gorgeous.

  “Maybe some mair foundation, lipstick, eye shadow and a longer dress,” he’d teased.

  “Dae ye think so?” she’d frowned, looking at hersel in the mirror oan the wall.

  “Senga, ye look like a bloody model, so ye dae. Let’s go. Ye’re beautiful, so ye ur.”

  “Senga! Johnboy! Come in, glad you could both make it,” Dolina Moffat shouted, staunin aside tae let them past. “Right, give me your jackets and just go through.”

  “Hiya,” Senga chirped, as aw the guys jist aboot fell aff their chairs and the wummin aw looked surreptitiously at each other, eyebrows raised.

  “Right, everyone, this is my colleague, Senga and her man, Johnboy, who’s an author,” Dolina announced, as the guys managed tae tear their eyes fae Senga and look at Johnboy wae interest.

  “Supposedly,” Johnboy cracked.

  “Hi, I’m Dolina’s better half, John. What are you both drinking?”

  “Oh, I’m driving, so anything non-alcoholic fur me, Dave.”

  “Johnboy?”

  “I’ll hiv a beer, if there’s wan oan the go. Ye better take this,” he said, haudin o’er a bag wae a couple ae bottles ae wine in it.

  “Right, then, I’ll leave everyone to introduce themselves,” John said, disappearing through tae the kitchen.

  “So, how do you like living and working in Assynt, Senga,” Margaret asked, wance the introductions wur oot ae the way.

  “Oh, Ah love it. It’s night and day fae being back in the toon…Glesga, so it is,” she replied.

  Johnboy looked roond the room. There wur three other couples. Aw a bit aulder than them. They seemed nice. Margaret and Hector. She wis a hoosewife, looking efter the two weans and he wis the social worker, based in a place called Lairg. Patsy and Bruce, a couple who took oot fishing parties and Liz and Staffy. Liz wis a teacher in the pr
imary school he’d passed oan the way up tae Achins bookshoap and Staffy wis a self-employed digger driver. They aw also liked a good swally, he noticed, as the glasses kept getting refilled as soon as they wur empty. Him being a writer didnae come up until they wur sitting roond the dinner table.

  “So, you’re the author everyone is talking about, Johnboy?” the school teacher asked him. “I’ve always wanted to write a book.”

  “So have I,” Patsy said, nodding.

  “Ach, well,” Johnboy replied, shrugging. “Ah’m jist starting the first wan, so it’s a wee bit hit and miss, hivving never written anything before.”

  “I’ve always wanted to write a crime novel. Unfortunately, I’ve never met anyone who’s committed a crime…a serious one, I mean,” Liz admitted, before continuing. “Senga tells me that your one is a raunchy romance…a love story.”

  “Raunchy romance? Well, Ah don’t know aboot that. It isnae exactly ‘The Sexy Secrets Ae Sultry Susan,’” he replied, as a pregnant pause descended oan the company, before everywan burst oot laughing, including Senga. “In fact, although Ah’m probably hauf way through it, there’s only been a wee bit ae winching gaun oan, so far.”

  “Oh my God. I think I’m going to wet myself,” Margaret confessed, wiping a tear fae her eye wae her napkin.

  “‘The Sexy Secrets Of Sultry Susan?’ What a title for a book…I’d buy it,” the social worker admitted, tae mair laughter.

  “Aye, it certainly doesn’t have the same ring to it as ‘The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie,’” Patsy said drily, as everywan cracked up again.

  “That’s no the title, is it, Johnboy?” Senga asked, a look a dread oan that face ae hers.