by Jim Eldridge
‘The Russians?’
Jake shrugged.
‘Right now, I can’t think of anyone else,’ he said. ‘They’re the ones looking for the book.’
‘What about Muir?’ asked Lauren. ‘We saw him acting suspiciously in that area.’
‘Maybe,’ agreed Jake. ‘But what reason would he have for killing Dougie?’
‘The book,’ said Lauren. ‘It’s always about the books.’
A sergeant and a constable arrived by boat from the mainland an hour and a half after Dougie’s body had been flown away. They joined the local constable from Craignure in the lounge of the guest house, which had been set up as the base for their investigation. The first people they wanted to talk to were Jake and Lauren.
‘We’ll see you one at a time, if you don’t mind,’ the sergeant told them. He nodded at Jake. ‘We’ll start with you first, sir.’
They want to question us separately and see if our stories match up, Jake thought.
Jake told the sergeant and the constable what he’d seen. Not that there was much to say, just that they’d been walking along the cliff and they’d spotted the body of Dougie MacClain lying at the bottom of it. There then followed questions about Jake himself. Why had he come to Mull? Jake and Lauren had already rehearsed their answers should these kind of questions come up: they were old friends meeting up on Mull for a holiday, once ‘Helen Cooper’ had decided to come to England from her home in New Zealand.
‘What were you doing when you found Mr MacClain’s body?’
‘Just walking. Exploring the island.’
‘Did you see anyone else in the area?’
‘Not on the shore,’ said Jake. ‘The Russians were in their enclosure, doing their dig, at the top of the cliff.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘The American who’s staying here,’ said Jake. ‘Mr Muir. We saw him.’
‘On the shore?’
‘No,’ said Jake. ‘I just said, we didn’t see anyone else on the shore.’
‘So where did you see Mr Muir?’
‘Near the cottage where the Russians are staying.’
The sergeant looked at him quizzically.
‘How come you know the Russians are staying there, sir?’ he said. ‘Do you have an interest in these Russians?’
Jake shook his head.
‘It’s a small island,’ he said. ‘Everyone seems to know who everyone else is. I thought it was easier than saying “In the cottage with the green door near the cliff edge”. That could mean a lot of different cottages.’
The sergeant studied Jake thoughtfully.
‘How do you know that cottage has got a green door, sir?’ he asked. ‘Have you been keeping a special eye on it?’
‘I don’t,’ said Jake. ‘I just said “green” to give you an example of what I meant. For all I know the door’s red or yellow.’ He frowned. ‘Out of curiosity, what colour is the door?’
‘Green, sir,’ said the sergeant.
Jake smiled.
‘Lucky guess,’ he said.
The sergeant didn’t smile back. Inwardly, Jake kicked himself. I’ve made him suspicious about what we’re doing here, he thought. Let’s hope they don’t start digging too deeply into ‘Helen Cooper’.
The interview carried on, mostly going over the same ground. He’s asking me the same questions in a different way, seeing if I trip myself up, thought Jake. Luckily, Jake could repeat the fact about their discovery of Dougie McLain’s body over and over again without a problem. He just told the sergeant what they’d seen, and what they’d done. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the sergeant said: ‘Thank you sir. That’ll be all for the moment.’
‘Fine,’ said Jake. ‘I’ll go and get . . .’ He was about to say ‘Lauren’, when he stopped himself just in time, and said, ‘Miss Cooper for you.’
‘No need,’ said the sergeant. ‘The constable will tell her we’re ready for her.’
In other words, they don’t want us talking together before they get a chance to question her as well, thought Jake. They’re still set on checking if our stories match up.
Jake left the lounge and strolled towards the back door of the guest house. In the small back garden there was a seat he could relax in without bumping into people like Muir, or Mr and Mrs Gordon. As he neared the open back door, he could hear angry voices just outside. Rona and Robbie.
‘We know who did it!’ he heard Rona say, blazing fury in her voice.
‘We have to let the police do their job,’ Robbie cautioned her.
Suddenly Jake felt an overpowering urge to talk to them, sweep away the pretence and tell them he knew what this was all about. He was sure they must know that Dougie MacClain had been a Watcher, and that was why he had been killed: because he had been trying to protect the hidden book. If that was the case, then Jake and Lauren would need the knowledge these kids were sure to have if they were to stop the Russians, and get the book for themselves. He took a deep breath, then stepped outside, into the paved area at the back of the house. Rona and Robbie were sitting on upturned crates, and they looked at him suspiciously. He could see that Rona had been crying.
‘I’m so sorry about what happened to your uncle,’ said Jake.
‘He didn’t fall!’ burst out Rona angrily.
‘Ssh, Rona,’ said Robbie warningly.
‘He didn’t!’ insisted Rona, and Jake could see the tears still shining angrily in her eyes. ‘He knew every inch of those cliffs. He was pushed!’
‘Rona!’ snapped Robbie, firmer this time, and he shot an angry warning look at Jake.
‘I understand,’ Jake nodded sympathetically. And then he added in a quiet voice: ‘He was a Watcher, wasn’t he?’
For a split second both Robbie and Rona gaped at him, shock clearly shown on their faces. And then Robbie stood up, his face grim and hard.
‘Are you saying he was some kind of peeping Tom?’ he demanded angrily. And he advanced towards Jake, his fists clenched.
‘I’m talking about the hidden books of Malichea,’ said Jake softly.
Robbie stopped, and now he looked bewildered. Then he recovered himself.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he muttered gruffly.
‘But your sister does,’ said Jake gently, turning towards Rona.
‘You leave her alone!’ shouted Robbie, and this time his fists came up, ready to throw a punch at Jake.
‘You can attack me, but it doesn’t alter the fact that your uncle was a Watcher whose job was to protect the book that’s hidden here and stop it being dug up. My guess is, he tried to stop it in some way, and someone caught him and killed him.’
‘The Russians!’ sobbed Rona. ‘They did it! But we can’t prove it. And no one can touch them because they’ve got diplomatic immunity.’ And she began crying again.
Robbie looked at his sister, his whole body language showing he was uncomfortable with all this.
‘You shouldn’t be saying this, Rona,’ he said awkwardly.
‘Why not?’ demanded Rona, suddenly looking up, her eyes blazing angrily. ‘He knows about the book. And Uncle Dougie’s dead, and being silent isn’t going to bring him back!’
Suddenly the realisation hit Jake, and he said: ‘You’re Watchers as well!’
Robbie looked at Jake in alarm, but Rona’s look continued to be angry and defiant.
‘Yes, we are! And proud of it!’ she said.
Robbie still looked uncomfortable.
‘How did you know?’ he demanded.
‘Because being a Watcher is handed down through generations, and your uncle didn’t have children of his own, so it makes sense for it to be passed on to you.’
Robbie regarded Jake suspiciously.
‘Are you a Watcher?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Jake, shaking his head. ‘But I know a Watcher down south. She told me.’
‘She wasn’t supposed to,’ said Robbie.
‘She said I was in danger,’
explained Jake. ‘She did it to save my life.’ Then he added with a slightly embarrassed smile. ‘She thought I was one of the good guys.’
‘And are you?’ demanded Rona. ‘One of the good guys?’
‘I think I am,’ said Jake. ‘That’s why we’re here. To stop the Russians getting hold of the book.’
Inside he felt guilty because he didn’t add the whole truth, that he and Lauren still wanted the book to bring the whole business of the hidden library out into the open. But if he told them that, they’d close up against him.
‘How do we know we can trust you?’ asked Robbie, still wary.
‘You don’t,’ admitted Jake. ‘But I’ve told you why we’re here, and that we know about the hidden books of Malichea.’
‘So?’ challenged Robbie. ‘You could be working for someone else who wants the book.’
‘True.’ Jake nodded. ‘But you can check me out with your senior Watchers. They’ll tell you that I’m definitely not working for anyone with bad intentions.’ Changing tack, he asked: ‘Do your parents know about you two being Watchers?’
‘Of course,’ said Rona. ‘It’s in the family. They were pleased we decided to carry it on.’
‘But we failed,’ said Robbie bitterly.
‘No we haven’t,’ said Rona fiercely. ‘The Russians haven’t found it yet!’
‘But you two know where it is,’ said Jake.
This time, the brother and sister looked at one another cautiously, then Rona said warily, ‘We don’t know you.’
They were interrupted by Mrs MacClain calling from inside: ‘Robbie! Rona! Where are you?’
‘We have to go,’ said Robbie. He touched his sister on the shoulder. ‘You OK?’ he asked.
Rona nodded and stood up, wiping her eyes and her face with her sleeve.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. She turned to Jake. ‘Maybe we’ll talk to you later.’
‘I hope so,’ said Jake.
Chapter 11
Jake went back into the guest house. He headed towards the lounge, but saw the door was shut and a handwritten notice had been stuck to it saying: Private. He wondered if Lauren was still in there, being questioned. Then he heard her voice from behind him call out, ‘Jake!’
He turned and saw that she had just come downstairs.
‘Where have you been?’ she asked.
‘Talking to Robbie and Rona,’ said Jake. He told her about their conversation. When he finished, he could see that Lauren wasn’t happy.
‘You lied to them,’ she said accusingly.
‘No I didn’t,’ he defended himself. ‘I just didn’t tell them the whole story.’
‘You didn’t tell them that we plan to use the book to tell the world about the Order of Malichea,’ said Lauren. ‘And that’s exactly what the Watchers were set up to stop. Their job is to keep the books hidden.’
‘Until the time is right for the information to come out,’ countered Jake. ‘Maybe now is the right time?’
Lauren didn’t appear convinced.
‘You lied to them,’ she repeated. ‘You led them to believe that we want the books kept hidden, the same way they do.’
‘I was trying to get them on our side,’ protested Jake.
‘By lying to them,’ insisted Lauren. ‘If we go down that road, we’ll be as bad as Pierce Randall. Pretending to be one thing, all public-spirited, but in reality wanting the books for our own ends.’
‘Well, it may look that way . . .’ began Jake defensively.
‘It doesn’t just look that way, it is that way,’ Lauren told him firmly. She sighed. ‘We have to forget this one.’
‘What?’ exploded Jake.
‘We know there’ll be other books,’ said Lauren. ‘We’ve already had our hands on two.’
‘And lost both of them!’ said Jake bitterly.
‘Ask yourself: what’s this one about? How to create spontaneous human combustion! How many people’s lives will this science save?’ She shook her head. ‘No, we have to let this one go.’
‘Why?’ demanded Jake. ‘You’ve come halfway around the world! You’ve put your whole life and liberty at risk to do what — abandon the search?’
‘Just for this one,’ said Lauren. ‘I’m not going to get what we want by lying to them. Especially after what’s happened to them, with their uncle being killed. We’ll be taking advantage of their grief. I can’t do that.’
The atmosphere at the guest house was one of gloom and mourning. The MacClains had disappeared to their own quarters, and no one felt like calling on them for anything.
Jake and Lauren wandered out to the garden, and found the Gordons sitting on one of the benches. Lauren and Jake joined them. The Gordons in particular looked deeply shocked by what had happened.
‘How awful!’ said Pam Gordon. She cast a look towards the house, and the annex where the family lived.
‘I wonder if we ought to leave?’ murmured John Gordon. ‘After all, they won’t feel much like running their guest house after this has happened.’
‘I think they’ll need our support,’ said Lauren. ‘And being busy can be a help at a time like this. Help dull the pain.’
The sound of footsteps approaching made them turn, and they saw Ian Muir coming towards them, limping slightly. He pulled a chair over and joined them.
‘I’ve just been answering questions from the police,’ he said. He shook his head. ‘Not that I could tell them much. Yes, I was out for a walk, but I didn’t see him, or what happened to him.’
‘Did the police give any clue as to what they think happened?’ asked John Gordon.
Muir nodded.
‘They seem to think it was an accident,’ said Muir. ‘He fell off the cliff.’
Mr and Mrs Gordon exchanged looks that showed their doubt about this.
‘You don’t think so?’ asked Muir.
Mrs Gordon shrugged.
‘Who knows?’ she said. ‘It just seems odd that someone who’s spent their whole life around these cliffs should fall off them so easily.’
‘That’s often the way,’ said Muir. ‘People get complacent. That’s the way accidents happen.’ He turned to Jake and Lauren. ‘What do you two think? You’re the ones who found the body.’
Jake sighed.
‘We just found him,’ he said. ‘He was a mess. His head was covered in blood. The police say it was hitting his head that killed him.’
‘Which is odd,’ said Mr Gordon. ‘You’d have thought he would have landed feet first and broken his legs, or something.’
‘Maybe he tripped,’ said Muir. ‘Fell over and went down head first. Like I say, these things happen.’
‘Perhaps the Russians might be able to throw some light on it,’ said Pam Gordon. ‘The place he was found isn’t too far from their cottage.’
‘That’s what I said,’ Muir told them. ‘But it seems the Russians aren’t able to help. Or, rather . . .’ and he scowled, ‘. . . won’t help.’
Jake frowned.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Apparently, they refuse to be questioned without their ambassador present, and it’s going to take some time for her to arrive.’
‘They can’t refuse, surely?’ asked Pam.
‘It seems they’re claiming diplomatic immunity,’ said Muir.
‘The police told you this?’ queried Lauren. ‘Isn’t that a bit unusual for them to reveal things like that?’
Muir looked awkward.
‘Yeah, well, they didn’t exactly volunteer it,’ he said. ‘It sort of came out.’
He looked at the four, who were looking at him quizzically.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘If you must know, they started getting heavy with me, so I told them if they carried on like that I was going to be claiming diplomatic immunity. And this cop groans “Just like the Russians!” That’s when the story came out.’
‘How can you claim diplomatic immunity?’ asked Jake.
‘I work for the State Department,’ replie
d Muir. He shrugged. ‘Nothing grand, just an ordinary desk job, but it gives me diplomatic status. Which can be useful in some situations.’
I bet, thought Jake.
Muir got up.
‘Anyway, I’d better go phone my office back home, just in case these cops start checking up on me. See you guys later!’
With that he limped back towards the guest house.
‘Well well,’ said John Gordon. ‘Diplomatic immunity. Who’d have thought it!’ He turned to Lauren and smiled. ‘Maybe you ought to try the same stunt: being a New Zealander and that. A foreign national.’
‘It’s too late for that.’ Lauren smiled ruefully. ‘They’ve already questioned me.’
Later, alone in their room, Lauren asked, ‘What did you make of that?’
‘Muir and his diplomatic immunity?’ asked Jake. ‘If you ask me, that definitely means he’s CIA.’
‘I was thinking of Mr Gordon,’ said Lauren thoughtfully. ‘I never mentioned to the Gordons or Ian Muir that I’m from New Zealand. And my accent certainly doesn’t sound like a Kiwi’s.’
‘Maybe the MacClains told them,’ suggested Jake. ‘I’m guessing you did the booking by email from New Zealand?’
‘Yes.’ Lauren nodded. ‘Like I told you, I used Helen’s computer.’ She frowned. ‘The MacClains may have told them, or maybe the Gordons are very nosy people who’ve been doing some serious checking on me.’
‘Not too serious, let’s hope,’ said Jake, concerned. It was his turn to frown. ‘I’m beginning to think that no one on this island is who or what they say they are.’ He looked at Lauren. ‘Do you think that Dougie’s death was an accident?’
‘No,’ said Lauren. ‘I think he was killed. And I think it was because of the hidden book.’ She shuddered. ‘Which means all of us who are here for it are at risk.’
Jake nodded.
‘So the question is: which of us is next?’
Chapter 12
In the morning the guest house seemed to be back to normal, at least as far as the practicalities were concerned, like cooked breakfasts and packed lunches. Jeannie and Alec MacClain did their best to put a brave face on the situation, but there was no mistaking the grief that hung over them.
