by Lacey Dearie
LEGER’S FOE
BY
LACEY DEARIE
For the swans of Irvine Harbourside
‘I thought one of the reasons we moved from Glasgow was to get away from all the crime,’ Annabella grumbled, rustling the newspaper she held in her hands with annoyance.
She sat the paper on the kitchen table and pursed her lips, while Leger, her beloved black tomcat pounced onto her lap and gazed up at her with admiration in his amber eyes.
‘What’s the matter?’ her husband, Hugh asked.
‘A man drowned in the loch yesterday,’ she advised.
‘The loch? You mean the one just behind our building?’ Hugh gasped. ‘How is that a crime? Was he pushed?’
‘Apparently so! According to the article his friend, who was out walking his dog at the time and jumped in to save him, says the chap was pushed. That’s all he’s told police. He’s still too traumatised to make much sense,’ Annabella said, raising her eyebrows.
She patted her short auburn hair as she thought this over. Her niece, Carole, who was visiting from Glasgow that week, had taken her two children to the loch half an hour ago to feed the swans and had done so each day since she arrived. She didn’t like the idea of her niece and the little ones being in a place where a crime had just recently been committed. She absentmindedly stroked the back of Leger’s neck as she considered taking a walk down there herself, just to check on Carole.
‘I know what you’re thinking, and you’re not going,’ Hugh barked, interrupting her train of thought.
‘You know me too well!’ she grimaced.
‘Carole will be fine. Lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place. Any crime scene will be cordoned off and it’s likely they’re investigating it for clues too so she won’t be anywhere near it. Anyway, if this chap was pushed into the loch, it’s probable that there’s a backstory there. He might have had a grievance with somebody. They probably have a list of suspects. Who knows? Carole doesn’t know anyone here besides us and she’s unlikely to be attacked by the same person who pushed this man into the water. I hate to say it, but women are attacked for different reasons from men and whoever pushed him has a grievance that doesn’t involve Carole.’
Annabella nodded. ‘You’re right. I just hate the thought of a killer being on the loose and our niece being out there on her own, in the very same place where he struck!’
Leger looked up at her and hissed.
‘What’s the matter, my wee love?’ Annabella asked.
‘He’s probably objecting to your assumption that the killer was a man and not a woman,’ Hugh sniggered. ‘Does the story in the paper say anything about who this man was? Was he some kind of gangster or something?’
Annabella picked up the newspaper again and scanned it.
‘It did say something, actually. Where was it again? Oh, yes. Here it is. “The man, a restaurateur named Sean Gilbert, had been harassed by teenagers numerous times over the last decade after it was discovered he had used cheap cat food in some dishes on his menu. The rumour was twisted over time and earned him the nickname Gibby the Cat Killer.” That’s disgusting!’ she exclaimed, putting her hands over Leger’s ears.
‘That’s teenagers for you,’ Hugh grunted. ‘What paper is that anyway?’
‘One of the national ones. Do you think an animal lover would have killed him, thinking the rumours were true?’
‘Killing someone for using cat food in a meal is a bit over-dramatic. If it will put your mind at ease, we’ll take a walk out to the loch together and check on her and the wee ones,’ Hugh suggested, just as the door clicked and Carole entered the house accompanied by her four year old daughter, Brianna and Hugh’s black Labrador, Bob, who had gone for a walk with the family. Carole was struggling to get her younger child, Louis and his stroller through the narrow doorway.
Hugh jumped out of his seat and raced over to the door to assist Carole while Annabella smiled at her niece to welcome her home. She looked down at Leger and sighed.
‘Thank goodness they’re home. I could never have lived with myself if she had come here to visit me and encountered trouble as a result!’
*****
‘You would look so cute as a bunny,’ Brianna mused, arranging some felt ears on Bob’s head. ‘Or maybe a duck.’
Leger sat opposite the little girl and the black Labrador, sniggering, glad for once that he was not the subject of Brianna’s creative dressing.
‘Do you know, I’ve often thought the same,’ Bob admitted, panting with glee.
‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ Leger sneered. ‘You’re as silly as she is.’
‘You’re just jealous because she’s paying me lots of attention,’ Bob dismissed, snuffling with annoyance.
‘Yes. I am jealous that you look so ridiculous and I do not,’ Leger agreed. ‘I’m going to find Carole. She apparently brought me some catnip from Glasgow. It’s so long since I had any and I need something to distract me while I’m thinking over the details of this drowning case.’
‘I did wonder if you would try to solve that! Any leads yet?’ Bob asked.
‘None. I’m still in the early stages of collating as much information as I can.’
Leger sauntered into the kitchen of the home he shared with Annabella, Hugh, Bob and Lily the calico. Annabella and Hugh had never been blessed with children but Leger knew that they viewed their niece, Carole, as the daughter they never had and when she had announced she was coming to visit them on the island, they were delighted.
Leger had expected Carole’s whole family to be here but it seemed it was just her and her two children, Brianna and the baby, Louis. Her husband, Gordon, was very rarely around and Leger only remembered meeting him a handful of times. The usual excuse was work commitments. This time, he had some family emergency to which he had to attend and so Carole had arrived with just the children in her car and spent the last three days by the loch, feeding the swans with Brianna.
‘Hello, Carole,’ Leger said, slinking into the kitchen, where Carole stood nursing a mug of tea and staring out of the window. He noticed her eyes were red and it looked like she had been crying.
Annabella was out in the hall, speaking to someone on the phone about a booking for the hotel. Carole failed to acknowledge Leger’s presence so he curled his body around her ankles and whipped his tail against her knees.
‘Oh. Leger, you probably want some catnip,’ Carole muttered, sitting her mug on the worktop, clearly subdued and morose.
She reached up to the cupboard above her head and pulled a small bunch of catnip down. Leger’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth from excitement, ready to inhale the sweet scent and become lost in the heady sensations that would follow until he heard yowling above him. He looked up and saw Lily, perched on top of the cupboards.
‘Lily! Are you alright?’ Leger called out to her.
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m good. This catnip’s amazing,’ she breezed, barely paying attention. ‘Leger, who’s that giant mouse behind you?’
He turned around and saw Bob, still adorned in the felt rabbit ears Brianna had made.
‘I’m not a mouse, I’m a bunny rabbit,’ Bob whined.
‘He looks like a tasty specimen,’ Lily giggled, not processing what Bob had said. ‘I’ve never seen such a big mouse.’
Carole placed the catnip in front of Leger and went back to her tea, completely switched off from what was happening around her.
Without further warning, Lily leapt onto Bob’s head and sank her teeth into him.
‘Die, mouse!’ she screeched.
‘Lily, get off me!’ Bob grun
ted. ‘Leger, help me.’
Leger looked at the bunch of catnip in front of him and then to the spectacle unfolding before his eyes.
‘I don’t think I’ll bother with this. It’s clearly a bad batch,’ Leger grizzled, turning his nose up.
He wondered if he looked so ridiculous when he indulged in catnip and if he did, why didn’t anyone tell him? Perhaps he would wait until later, when nobody was around to make a fool of himself.
He tiptoed back to the living room, bypassing Brianna who was now cutting out a set of rabbit feet, presumably to place on Bob’s legs as they were too big to fit either him or Lily. Leger leapt onto the windowsill and listened as Annabella terminated her phone call and had to repeat Carole’s name twice to get her attention. He couldn’t stop thinking about Carole’s glum mood. It was unlike the bubbly young woman to be so pensive and introspective and he wondered if perhaps there was a problem with her husband, Gordon. After all, he had yet again not made the effort to spend time with the people who were important to his wife. Perhaps there was more to this than met the eye.
Leger’s train of thought was interrupted when he noticed a commotion outside. It was taking place at the tree between their house and the hotel. The tree was often frequented by the local cats, although was less crowded the last few weeks since two of the cats had decided to stay in the village with their human and not venture this far out.
In attendance that day were Piper, a beautiful white molly with sapphire blue eyes, Domino and Oreo, the black and white brothers whose markings reflected their name choices and Massingham, a relatively new cat to the island, who was grey and always wore his collar loose, with his identity tag hanging low. Although he lived with the other two cats who no longer visited, he chose to continue mixing with the clowder, Piper especially. Leger had taken an instant dislike to Massingham, despite knowing it was illogical and irrational. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a bad vibe when Massingham was around.
He peered through the window, his eyes widening with interest as he watched the fracas and eventually located the source of the disturbance. There was a tiny grey bird waddling at speed, fearing for its life. Despite his feline instincts telling him it would make a splendid present for Annabella, he knew he had to save the tiny creature. It was clearly a baby and therefore naïve and unable to defend itself in the way an adult bird would.
Leger wasted no time. He didn’t even bother to sprint to his cat flap. Instead, he propelled himself up to the opened window above his head and squeezed his lithe body through the gap. It didn’t even bother him to fall to the ground and land on his back, as he simply rolled until he was able to steady himself on his paws and raced towards the tiny bird.
He stood between Massingham and what he now recognised as a cygnet and hissed. Massingham hunched his back and extended his claws.
‘This is my gift for Emilija,’ Massingham seethed, referring to his human companion. ‘Stand aside!’
Leger glared at him, maintaining eye contact, hoping to appear threatening. Truthfully, Massingham was a little bigger than him and likely to win any fight. His girlfriend, Ginger, had managed to terrify this arrogant grey tom when she had visited the island a few weeks ago but Leger was far too restrained to do any real damage or be violent. Ginger had simply acted on her maternal instincts and intimidated Massingham with sheer bravado.
‘I cannot let you harm this creature,’ Leger said. ‘He is much smaller than you and not able to put up a fair fight.’
‘Oh, really? I did hear that you were a bird lover. Looks like it’s true,’ Massingham spat.
Leger stood his ground as Massingham approached, who kept his eyes fixed on Leger as he took small steps closer. Each movement was slow and deliberate, drawing out the tension and heightening Leger’s anxiety. He had to make a choice. He could stand and fight a battle he might lose or he could grab the cygnet and run, taking the tiny bird back to the parents where it would be safe. He had to think fast as Massingham would soon be reaching out to take a swipe.
Leger swivelled his body away from Massingham and the rest of the clowder who were watching the stand-off with wide eyes. He clamped his jaws around the scruff of the cygnet’s neck and ran around the side of the house, through the back garden and towards the small loch where he assumed Massingham had found the cygnet.
On reaching the loch, he laid the baby swan down on the gravel.
‘Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ Leger enquired.
The cygnet gazed up at him. ‘You didn’t eat me.’
Leger licked his lips, fighting hard to rein in his instincts, which were telling him he had to sink his teeth into the cygnet. He could taste a hint of swan flesh on his mouth and it was delicious.
‘No, I didn’t and I don’t intend to either. What’s your name?’ he asked.
‘Iain,’ the cygnet replied.
‘I’m Leger and I’m probably the only feline on this island who will protect you. If any of those cats give you trouble again, just tell them you’re my friend.’
Iain rubbed his head against Leger’s leg and sighed. ‘I’ve always wanted a friend who wasn’t a swan!’
‘Iain!’ a voice shrieked. ‘Get away from that cat!’
‘Dad!’ Iain blurted. ‘It’s OK, he’s not hurting me.’
Before Leger could ascertain where the voice had come from or to whom it belonged, he felt the sharp shock of a beak pecking into his sides. He was startled into paralysis for a brief moment before he extended his claws to protect himself, scratching only twice. He was able to free himself and run to safety. As he escaped, he heard the owner of the beak calling out to him.
‘Tell your whiskered friends Iain the swan won’t stand for any more kidnappings! I’ve already killed one human in cold blood, it would not bother me one bit to do the same to a cat.’
*****
‘You’re a little quiet this morning,’ Lily noted, slicking back the fur from her face.
Leger looked at her briefly then closed his eyes. He didn’t feel like talking after the events of the previous day. Besides, there was an odd atmosphere in the house that morning. Carole hadn’t come home since going for a walk the night before. She had gone out alone after putting the children to bed, leaving Annabella and Hugh to babysit. He feared she may have gone to the loch and met the same fate as Sean Gilbert.
‘I think you need a hug,’ Bob announced, reaching out his paws to grab Leger, then panting with delight when Leger swiped him away.
‘I just want to be left alone,’ Leger grumped.
‘Why?’ Lily pressed.
‘I had a bad day yesterday,’ Leger said. ‘I was going to attempt solving the drowning case but that would mean spending time by the loch and I won’t be doing that any time soon. Not as long as that swan family are there anyway.’
‘Is this linked to your fight with Massingham?’ Bob asked.
‘How do you know about that?’ Leger snapped. ‘You’re a dog! You surely can’t have heard it from the cats.’
‘I was watching from the window. If it’s any consolation, I think you did the right thing. It’s not classy to fight and you saved a life. You may have lost face, but that makes it all the more admirable.’
‘I agree with Bob. Even though I don’t understand why you wanted to save that bird, I don’t think any less of you,’ Lily declared.
‘I’m not sure I can show my face outside this house again. I shall have to give up my detective work and be a housecat,’ Leger sighed, rolling onto his back and yowling to increase the drama.
‘Or you could dismiss everyone else’s opinion, if they indeed have one, and be true to who you are,’ Lily countered. ‘That is what I would do.’
The animals fell silent and pondered Lily’s words until Hugh came into the room, still in his dressing gown and sat on his favourite armchair. He was agitated and Bob, being acutely in tune with Hugh’s emotions, immediately offered him some comfort in the form of a paw and a head on h
is lap.
‘Should we contact the police?’ Annabella said, striding into the room. She was dressed smartly as usual, wearing a white chiffon blouse and a green dress over the top and her kitten-heeled boots clicked on the floor as she walked.
All of the animals in the room turned to Annabella, awaiting more information. It sounded like there was a drama unfolding and their curiosity was piqued.
‘Maybe we’re just being over-cautious,’ Hugh grumbled. ‘She might just have gone for a walk.’
‘Hugh, she’s been gone for at least fourteen hours now and she doesn’t know her way around this island. You know how unhappy she’s been for the last few days. I’m worried that…’ Annabella trailed off.
Leger and Lily’s eyes sprang wide open, knowing that Annabella and Hugh were referring to Carole. They had not mentioned her by name, but everyone in the house had noticed her blue mood since she arrived.
‘Don’t think things like that, Anna!’ Hugh snapped. ‘She’s fine. She’s gone for a walk and she’ll be back any time.’
Leger smoothed down his whiskers, thinking this over. If Carole was in a negative frame of mind, it was understandable that Annabella would want to keep an eye on her but she couldn’t seriously suspect Carole of doing something foolish, could she?
‘Where’s my mummy?’ Brianna whined. ‘Louis is crying and we need her to make us breakfast.’
‘She’s gone out for a while, my wee lamb. She’ll be back soon,’ Annabella said, stroking the child’s hair out of her face.
‘But we’re hungry,’ Brianna sulked.
‘I’ll give Louis his breakfast,’ Hugh announced.
‘Don’t be silly Uncle Hugh! You need boobies to feed Louis,’ Brianna tutted.
Annabella whooped with laughter and Hugh’s face reddened.
‘Well, that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile today!’ Hugh snorted.
‘Did mummy go back to the loch to see the swans? That was the only time she smiled yesterday. I woke up when she was leaving and she gave me a kiss and said she was going to the loch,’ Brianna related, not pausing for breath as she spoke but taking one huge gasp at the end.
