Music in the Hills (Drumberley Book 2)

by D. E. Stevenson

  The man’s eyes strayed round the room. He looked at the grandfather’s clock, at the bookcase, at the two oak chairs standing one on each side of the fire. His eyes fell upon a china dog, standing upon the mantelpiece. Softly he walked across the room and took it from its place.

  ‘That’s not where I keep it, Jed,’ said a voice behind him.

  The visitor spun round quickly with the china dog in his hands.

  There was a little silence as the two men confronted each other across the room. They were very alike, thin and wiry with brown complexions; and their features were alike too; but, in spite of the likeness between them, nobody seeing them together like this could have mistaken one for the other. One face was pleasant, the lines upon it had been written by humour and kindliness; the other face wore a discontented, cynical expression. It was as if the two faces had once been alike and the two different natures had written different stories upon them.

  ‘That’s not where I keep it, Jed,’ repeated the owner of the room. ‘I’m not as trusting as Mother was. I keep my money elsewhere.’

  He paused, but there was no reply.

  ‘But maybe I’m doing you an injustice, Jed,’ he continued. ‘Maybe it was a fill of tobacco you were after. I’ll not grudge you that.’

  Jed turned and put the china dog in its place. He said, ‘It’s a funny way to welcome a fellow after all these years, Daniel.’ His voice was not like Daniel’s; it was thin and whiny and, whereas Daniel had kept the Scottish turn of speech, Jed had lost it.

  ‘Aye, it’ll be about six years since we met,’ said Daniel in a conversational tone; ‘but there’s no need to ask why you’ve come or what you’re wanting. It’ll be the same as usual.’

  ‘I wanted to see you, that’s all.’

  ‘You wanted to see me,’ nodded Daniel. ‘It was a brotherly desire. Maybe you were wanting to see if you could still pass yourself off as Daniel Reid: it’s been useful to you once or twice. You could, too,’ said Daniel thoughtfully. ‘We’re not so alike as we were, but you could pass as me at twenty yards – or to a person in a hurry.’ He paused and then added thoughtfully, ‘It’s not so much that you and me are alike, but more because we’re unlike other folk – skinny and brown with big noses and bushy eyebrows – that’s what does it. A person sees a big nose and bushy eyebrows and says to himself, that’s Daniel Reid. It’s a pity we both take after Mother’s side of the family – a pity for me, that is. I’m just wondering what you’ve been doing, Jed. What have you been up to, eh?’ Jed did not seem pleased at the turn the conversation had taken.

  ‘I’m hungry, Daniel,’ he said. ‘I’ve been on the hills all night and,’

  ‘You’ve been on the hills!’

  ‘I started to walk over from Drumburly last night and I got lost.’

  ‘You got lost coming over from Drumburly?’ exclaimed Daniel incredulously.

  Fortunately for Jed, the kettle boiled over and engaged its owner’s attention, so there was no need to think up another lie.

  Jed watched Daniel making tea, bringing out a second cup and saucer and plate from the cupboard, another knife and fork and spoon from the drawer; he waited while Daniel went away and returned with a piece of cold meat and loaf of bread and various other eatables on a tray. When all was prepared the two men sat down at the table and began their meal.

  ‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me, Daniel,’ said Jed in a complaining tone of voice.

  ‘It’s the china dog that’s to blame. If it had not been for the china dog I might have welcomed you differently. I might have been taken in; I might have thought you’d turned over a new leaf and become a changed man. But you’ve not changed – not inwardly. You’ve changed quite a bit outwardly,’ said Daniel, regarding his visitor critically. ‘Aye, you’ve changed quite a bit. Nobody would think, to look at you, that you were younger than me. There’s a dryness in your skin and the beginnings of pouches beneath your eyes and you hand’s not as steady as it should be. You’ll need to take care of yourself, Jed.’

  ‘Stow your gab!’

  ‘It’s brotherly advice, Jed; brotherly advice,’ declared Daniel, cutting off another helping of cold meat and filling his guest’s plate.

  ‘Haven’t you got some whisky?’ Jed inquired.

  ‘Not for you. I’ve whisky in the house and I’d not be without it, for its grand stuff when you come in soaked through and your teeth chattering in your head; but you’re over fond of it, by the looks of you, and you’re getting none here.’

  ‘Daniel, I want money. I’m in the devil of a hole. I’ll tell you the whole thing,’ said Jed, leaning forward and speaking urgently and confidentially. ‘I came down here with a couple of pals, but we had a bit of a row and they went off without me. I’m stranded. I haven’t got the price of my train fare back to Glasgow. I need money badly, Daniel.’

  ‘I never knew you in any other condition.’

  ‘Ten quid, Daniel. It isn’t much to ask. You’ve got a good job. Shepherds get well paid nowadays.’

  ‘I wouldn’t give you ten pence.’

  ‘As a loan,’ pleaded Jed.

  Daniel laughed mirthlessly. ‘It was a loan you got last time, a loan to get you out of a hole, and I’ve never seen the money yet. It’s the same tale every time with you.’

  ‘All right,’ said Jed, changing the tone of his voice. ‘Here’s a different tale; perhaps you’ll like it better. I saw you on Saturday morning with Miss Shaw. She’s a pretty enough piece if you like them young. I like them a bit older, myself.’

  ‘You dirty swine!’ cried Daniel, raising his hand.

  ‘Here, none of that!’ exclaimed Jed, and he slipped out of his seat and backed towards the door. ‘You needn’t get your back up! I just thought you might be interested, that’s all. If you aren’t interested there are other people that might be: Sir Andrew Shaw, for instance.’

  Daniel had got himself in hand. ‘Come back and sit down,’ he said quietly. ‘Did you hear what I said? Come back and sit down. You’re no safer there than you would be sitting at this table, for I could catch you on the hill in two minutes and squeeze the breath out of you.’

  Jed came back reluctantly. He had gone a queer grey colour beneath his tan. ‘I don’t know what all the trouble’s about,’ he said in a shaky voice. ‘It was a joke, that’s all. I didn’t mean a word of it.’

  ‘Listen, Jed. I knew you were a fool, but I never knew you were as big a fool as that. You’re crazy, that’s what’s wrong with you. Maybe you didn’t hear there was a dance on Friday night, here at Mureth. Miss Shaw was at the dance.’

  ‘It was after eight o’clock when I saw you with the girl.’

  ‘It would be about that,’ agreed Daniel. ‘She went up to Mureth House with Mrs. Johnstone and had a wee rest before I took her home. If you doubt my word you can ask Mrs. Johnstone, but I’m not caring much one way or the other. If you choose to make a fool of yourself it’s no affair of mine.’ He got up as he spoke and going over to the fireplace took out his pipe and filled it from the china dog. Perhaps he did not want Jed to see his face.

  ‘It sounds funny,’ said Jed doubtfully.

  Daniel was aware it sounded funny, but he was not a liar by nature and he could think of no better lie on the spur of the moment. Daniel respected the truth; he considered truthfulness an important virtue, perhaps the most important virtue, but this was the second lie he had told Jed. Jed had believed the first – he had believed that Daniel could catch him on the hill, and had come back to the table and sat down as meek as milk – it was to be hoped he would swallow the second lie as easily.

  ‘She went to Mureth House after the dance?’ asked Jed. ‘What did she do that for?’

  ‘How do I know?’ inquired Daniel.

  ‘Why didn’t she go home with the others?’

  ‘Maybe she was tired or something.’

  Jed hesitated. ‘You took her home on the back of your bike?’ he inquired.

  ‘That’s what I did. Si
r Andrew gave me five shillings for my trouble.’

  Oddly enough this seemed to convince Jed; he was the more easily convinced because he knew Daniel to be a truthful person. Habitually truthful people can get away with almost any lie if they tell it well. He said slowly, ‘There’s no knowing what people like that will do. If they were working people, and had to earn their living, they wouldn’t be so keen to turn night into day.’

  Daniel laughed. He was so relieved that his laugh was extremely cheerful. ‘Working people!’ he exclaimed. ‘I wonder which works hardest, Mr. Johnstone or you. He’s up and about most mornings at the back of six, and he has papers and what not to keep him busy in the evenings, but he’s not a working man by your way of it.’

  It was at this moment that the door opened and Mr. Johnstone himself walked into the room, followed by his nephew.

  There were now four men in the little room; four men who stood silent, looking at one another in blank amazement. Each was surprised in a different way, of course, and perhaps Daniel was the least surprised of the party; for, although it was not Mr. Johnstone’s habit to walk straight into his own cottages, unannounced, he doubtless had the right to do so. Jed’s surprise was tinged with consternation. The visitors had walked in with the air of policemen… and Jed was not particularly fond of the police.

  It was James who found his voice first, for James had a quick intelligence and had been trained to take rapid decisions. ‘Uncle Jock!’ he exclaimed. ‘Uncle Jock, wait a moment. It was the other man.’

  ‘All right, James. Take it easy. We’ve got to get to the bottom of it, you know.’

  At these sinister words Jed rose and made a dash for the door, but James, who had come in last and was nearest the door, caught him by the arm and twisted it behind him.

  ‘This is him!’ cried James excitedly. ‘This is the fellow, what a fool I was! It wasn’t Daniel at all!’

  ‘Hold him, James.’

  ‘You bet I will!’

  Jock looked across at Daniel who was standing by the fire. Daniel’s eyes had moved from speaker to speaker but apart from that he was motionless.

  ‘Reid,’ said Jock. ‘This man’s your brother, I suppose.’

  ‘That’s it, Mr. Johnstone,’ replied Daniel.

  ‘Do you know what he’s been up to?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, but I’d be surprised to hear it was any good.’

  ‘When did he come?’

  ‘Today,’ cried Jed. ‘I was with some pals, they’ll tell you. I came to Drumburly this morning and I walked over the hills to see my brother. Is there any harm in that?’

  ‘Is this true?’ asked Jock, looking at Daniel.

  ‘I wouldn’t say so,’ replied Daniel, with a sigh. ‘I’ve heard three different tales as to when he came and how he came, but if you ask me I would say he’s been about the neighbourhood for some time.’

  ‘You can’t pin anything on me!’ cried Jed. ‘I tell you I came this morning. I’ve got witnesses. I’ve got two pals’

  ‘The two men you were talking to at the Show, maybe,’ suggested Jock.

  Jed sighed and suddenly he went completely limp, sliding on to the floor. For a moment James thought the man had fainted and he relaxed his grip.

  ‘Hold him!’ cried Daniel.

  The words came too late. Jed had pulled his captor on to the floor and, twisting sideways, he sprang up and was off like a bolted rabbit. James scrambled to his feet and pursued him with all speed.

  ‘Mr. James will not catch him,’ said Daniel regretfully. ‘Jed’s a slippery customer. He was out in Japan for a while and he learnt some queer wrestling tricks there. You need to know Jed to be up-sides with him.’

  ‘It’s a pity, but it can’t be helped,’ Jock said.

  ‘Aye, it’s a pity sure enough. I could catch him if it wasn’t for my ankle. I twisted it on the hill last night.’ He pulled up the leg of his trousers as he spoke and displayed an ankle swollen to twice its usual size.

  ‘That looks a bad sprain!’ exclaimed Jock.

  ‘It was sore at the time,’ admitted Daniel. ‘But it’s a good deal better. I’ll be as right as nine pence in a couple of days. Wilson is carrying on himself. He’s a good chap and capable enough, it’s just experience he lacks.’

  Jock, for once, was not thinking of his sheep, nor worrying for fear they should be neglected There was something even more important at stake. He said impulsively, ‘Reid, I’ve done you a bad injustice. I see that now. I’m very sorry about it.’

  ‘Well, you couldn’t say fairer, Mr. Johnstone,’ declared Daniel with a bewildered air.

  ‘I’m seeing daylight now,’ Jock continued. ‘But there’s still a few things to be cleared up. Let’s sit down and have it out.’

  Daniel agreed with alacrity. ‘It’s what I’m wanting, Mr. Johnstone. The affair is a mystery to me. I know fine you’ve not been satisfied with me lately and I was meaning to give in my notice and find another job… but maybe Jed’s at the bottom of it?’

  Jock nodded.

  ‘It’s Jed, is it?’ said Daniel. ‘Oh, well, it’s not the first time I’ve borne the blame for Jed, nor the second time either.’

  They sat down and began to talk, and when James returned, crestfallen from the vain pursuit of his quarry, he sat down with them. Three pipes were lighted and the whole matter was thoroughly discussed.

  Daniel’s story was soon told. After Mr. James had left him he remained sitting upon the stone, feeling very angry with himself, with Mr. James, and in fact with the world in general; then his ankle eased a bit and he ‘hirpled along to the road-end’, for it struck him that he could watch for the car. He had not long to wait. The car came down from the quarry sooner than he expected; it was a big car and it had some difficulty at the sharp turn into the main road. Daniel went up to the window and asked for a lift, explaining that he was a shepherd and had sprained his ankle; but his request was unheeded, the car drove off at high speed leaving him in the road. He was not surprised, of course; he had not expected his request to be granted, but had made it in order to have a good look at the occupants of the car. There were two men in the car, big men in waterproofs with caps pulled down over their eyes. He could not possibly identify them, but neither of them was Jed. As the car drove off he saw that the trailer was empty and from this he deduced that Mr. James had frightened them away. Daniel waited about until the milk lorry passed; he stopped and got a lift home.

  All this time, said Daniel, he had been worrying a good deal about Mr. James, not only because Mr. James was a stranger to the hills and might get lost in the mist, or fall over the edge of the quarry, but also because he was aware that if Mr. James happened to see the sheep-lifters he would go for them with his bare hands without thought of the consequences. It was possible that this had happened and that Mr. James was lying wounded upon the hill. But fortunately when he got to the steading he met Lizzie and she had told him that Mr. James was safely at Mureth House.

  James’s story took a good deal longer to tell, and it was nearly tea-time before everybody had had his say and everything, including Daniel’s character, was perfectly clear.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The telephone rang when Jock, Mamie and James were at supper. They had been talking about the sheep-stealers, of course, telling Mamie the whole story, and because they were all so much relieved at the clearing up of the mystery they were extremely cheerful, not to say merry, over it.

  ‘That’ll be the police,’ said Jock, rising as he spoke. ‘I put a call through to them.’ While he was away the conversation continued.

  ‘It’s grand,’ declared James. ‘I feel as if a huge weight had been lifted off my back. Honestly, Mamie, I don’t know when I’ve felt so utterly miserable as I felt this morning. It was horrible to believe that Daniel could do such a thing – and it just shows you shouldn’t believe ill of people you trust. You should believe your instinct rather than your eyes.’

  Mamie considered this. The idea was inte
resting, but all the same. ‘I think everybody believes their eyes,’ said Mamie. ‘Sometimes people say, “I couldn’t believe my eyes” but they don’t really mean it. Seeing is believing.’

  ‘I once saw a girl sawn in half,’ said James. ‘It was in Malaya. I saw it distinctly with my eyes, and several other fellows saw it too. We were just wondering, and feeling a bit sick, when the man stuck her together again and she got up and bowed and kissed her hand to us.’

  ‘Goodness!’ exclaimed Mamie. ‘You have seen a lot of queer things, haven’t you? Tell me more about it, James.’

  James obeyed. They were still talking about the girl who had been sawn in half, or hadn’t been sawn in half, when Jock returned.

  ‘It wasn’t the police,’ said Jock. ‘It was Mrs. Duncan. The young Duncan’s have been invited to go over to Tassieknowe for an evening party and they want James to go with them. I told her James would ring up later. Mrs. Duncan should know better than to telephone in the middle of a meal.’

  ‘They have their supper at eight’ began Mamie, who never liked anyone to be blamed unjustly.

  ‘I’ll tell them I’m too busy to go,’ declared James. ‘I don’t want to go to Tassieknowe. I didn’t like that man.’

  ‘You’d be better to go,’ said Jock. ‘It’s a bad thing to fall foul of your neighbours and you might have a chance of putting the matter right. I wouldn’t refer to the fracas on the hill, but just make the man’s acquaintance in a civilised manner and let bygones be bygones.’

  ‘Oh, James, do go!’ exclaimed Mamie. ‘You could see what they’re like and ask Miss Heddle if she would come to tea or something.’

  James realised that he must go, all the more so because he felt that the ‘fracas on the hill’ was his fault, or at least that he was partly responsible for it. He telephoned Cathie Duncan and arranged that he was to be picked up at Mureth tomorrow night. It was a dinner jacket affair said Cathie, ‘a dinner-dance’ was the description on the invitation.