"It's a good thing you didn't get your head caught in that crag, Harold!"
His brother frowned. Duncan was raining on his parade. The investigator felt a twinge of guilt.
"What else did you two do today?"
"We picnicked on the sand at the little bay. There's an outcrop of rocks about a hundred meters beyond the beach where seals sunbathe. Their antics entertained us for some time. A boat was anchored a ways out and the owner rowed his dinghy over and joined us with bottles of mead. Can you believe that? Luckily, Penny prepared extra food, so we had some to offer our new friend."
She's seen the way you down scran, Duncan thought.
"The chap must have been lonely. Asked us all about what we did on the island, where we were from, et cetera, very gracious. Anyway, he rowed back to his ship after lunch, and we hiked back around the island to a point where there's a brilliant view of the castle. It's the place Reggie called the Heugh. A lot of birders were there, so we just melted in with them. Before too long, it happened." Harold paused for effect.
"What happened?"
"An enormous flock of waders flew by, just off the point, undulating as one. There must have been hundreds, if not thousands of them. The group rose just like a roller, then surged down, hugging the island's coast, before landing in the causeway. The tide ebbed three hours before, so they were able to walk about as if on a Sunday stroll in the park."
"That must have been something to see alright. Did the birders get excited?" Duncan asked.
"Yes, but they're a taciturn group, they are. Everything is muted and hush-hush."
"Well, I guess they don't wish to frighten off the fowl."
"We hung around for a couple of hours and then caught a ride into the village. Penny's mum cooked dinner for us and… "
"You've met the family?" Duncan interrupted, surprised.
"Of course. I spend the better part of every day with Penny. I would seem untoward if I didn't introduce myself. They might wonder if I'm on the up and up."
"Did you like them?" Duncan asked, concern in his voice. Things were moving too fast between Harold and Penny.
His brother lowered his voice and said, "Mum's not a very good cook. Nothing like our mother, anyway. But her dad seemed nice enough. Offered me a pint."
Alarms went off in the investigator's head when he heard his brother refer to Penny's mother as Mum. Perhaps he'd need to meet these people himself.
"And did you take it?"
"Nae. I knew Penny wanted to go star gazing with the clear skies tonight and I dinnae want to get sleepy on her. She took the night off so we could spend it together."
Duncan tried to stay calm. Maybe he was overreacting.
"Did you stargaze?" he asked in a just audible tone. He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but he could barely get the words out.
"We sure did. Penny took me to this isolated spot. It was amazing. Just like Adam and Eve."
Harold paused and sighed, gazing at the ceiling as he relived the evening's escapade, satisfaction spreading all over his face.
"What do you mean?" the Scotsman choked out, coughing.
He'd slid across the mattress next to his brother during their conversation. Harold patted him on the back.
"Steady. Are you peely wally, Duncan?"
That was the second time this evening someone had asked him if he were well.
"I'm fine," he said, rasping.
Harold got up and retrieved a glass of water from the bathroom, handing it to his brother.
"Thank you," Duncan said, his voice and composure returning.
That redheaded sylph better not have seduced my brother. Harold's naïveté made him an easy target for any attractive lass.
"Penny chose a spot just over a bluff where we couldn't see any lights from the village or mainland. We passed by these incredible buildings the locals make from the overturned hulls of ships. They use them for storage sheds, but they look like something from a fairy book. After we got settled, Penny pointed out all the constellations. For a kitchen girl she is quite knowledgeable. But then, so am I for a garage worker!"
Duncan saw his point and nodded for Harold to continue.
"I bought some biscuits from the grocer and we ate them under the stars and shared a thermos of tea. Mum does make good tea. Where she lacks in culinary talent, she makes up… "
"Harold!" he interrupted his brother again. "Why are you calling that woman Mum? I'm sure Penny's a fine lass, but you've only known her a few days!"
"Ach! What's got you so peevish, Duncan? Maybe you are sick."
"Just don't be too familiar with these people, Harold," Duncan said, pulling away before his brother could place the back of his hand on his forehead to check for a temperature. "Not yet anyway. Take your time and get to know the lass before you start calling her mother Mum and her father Daddy."
Duncan stalked into the bathroom and shut the door, leaving Harold stupefied at his reaction.
-14-
All Work & No Play
Harold was not happy to hear his services would be required all day at Norcroft Manor. Duncan was not happy that Harold resumed his symphony of snoring the previous night. Both men, grumpy for different reasons, ate their breakfast in silence.
"I'm leaving on Monday to see the Gospel copies and listen in on Reggie's lectures. I won't see Penny for at least three days, maybe four. I'd like to make the most of the time I've got here," his brother stated, put out.
"I'm sorry you're disappointed, but if we can finish today, you can have every other day completely free to spend with Penny, starting tomorrow," Duncan said, cheerily.
He hoped Harold would fall for it. He needed his help today, but he had no intention of leaving his innocent brother alone for an entire day with Penny before their long separation. Harold brightened, taking the bait.
"I see your point, Duncan," he said, slurping his last drop of tea through the space between his two front teeth. "Let's get going, then."
Tonight, Duncan would call Angus for back-up. Something had to be done about Penny. Happy his brother found a companion, the investigator worried their relationship moved at too fast a clip. Even though Harold had a gangster as a business associate, he was still a babe in the woods.
During their drive to the house, Harold spoke of Penny's family situation and how she came to Holy Island.
"Penny's not an islander, you know."
"She's not?"
Duncan was surprised, although he hadn't heard the lass speak enough to hear her accent.
"No, neither are her parents. Her aunt, you may have seen her in the chippie, Marilyn, married a local boy," Harold explained.
How could I not have noticed the formidable Marilyn? The woman had arranged the meeting between his brother and Penny.
"Yes, I think I remember Marilyn. How did she meet an islander?"
She obviously was not of the local flavor.
"It's a bit convoluted. Marilyn's husband was from an island family. They left shortly after their son was born for the mainland. That was in the 1970s. Fast forward a couple of decades and Marilyn meets and marries the son. He decides to return to Holy Island and reopen the family business, a restaurant. Are you following me, Duncan?"
"I think so," the investigator said, focusing on a few sheep straggling across the road a hundred meters ahead and slowing the Vauxhall to a crawl.
Harold continued, "They settled on a chippie and it's been very successful. Anyway, poor chap had a heart attack and passed away a year ago. Marilyn begged her sister to come help in the restaurant. Marilyn's sister is Penny's mum. It took them a while to get things arranged, but they pulled up stakes and joined Marilyn in the spring."
By now the sheep had got clear of the road and Duncan proceeded to Norcroft Manner. The house's small car park brimmed with vehicles. Peckham and Dodd arrived before the Dewars, but were nowhere in sight. The brothers knocked on the front door and Mrs. Peckham let them in.
"They're all in there
, digging away," she said, waving towards the passage at the other end of the hall.
Her comment provoked concern in Duncan, and he hoped Reginald had offered them some training or at least advice on how to proceed. He hurried to the old chapel, his younger brother at his heels, wondering what the rush was about. Harold grinned as he dashed past Mrs. Peckham and gave her a cursory wave of his hand.
By now, Duncan could make his way through the rabbit warren to the chapel without a guide, and he arrived at a trot. Havoc met his eyes as he peered into the room. Dodd smashed a slate tile with a pickax while the emaciated Mr. Peckham leaned against a windowsill, smoking a cigarette. Henry raised the tool over his head again, revealing a pudgy belly tumbling over his low slung belt. One glance at the two men spoke volumes regarding who's wife had the best culinary skills. Reginald was missing, but tools were scattered about, and chunks of flooring lay all over the mosaic, instead of stacked in neat piles around the perimeter.
He glanced about and noticed cracked pamments dispersed over the area. Instead of piling dirt to the side, they'd slung it willy-nilly, some of it landing on the already uncovered portion of the labyrinth. The investigator took a deep breath, and weighed his options as Harold stood behind him in the corridor, fascinated for the moment by a shred of peeling paint.
"Hallo there," Duncan began, tempering the frustration in his voice. "How long have you men been at it?"
Dodd jolted upright, startled by the Scotsman, while Peckham inclined his head towards Duncan and exhaled a curl of smoke. The investigator watched as it floated upwards, dissipating near the ceiling.
"A couple of hours. See all the progress we've made?" Anna's husband remarked with a note of euphoria.
"Yes, you've come a long way, I see. Has Reggie been in to take a look?"
Mr. Peckham pushed himself from the wall and said, "He gave us his missive, then let us be."
The investigator took in the bookkeeper's clothing. Davey hadn't donned work clothes, instead he kept to his posh attire. The Scotsman wondered where he got the money for such togs.
He stepped into the room and Harold followed. He heard his brother draw in a breath and whistle through his teeth. Duncan sensed he was about to make a remark and placed a hand behind his back, signaling for him to keep quiet. For once, the younger Dewar caught on and remained silent.
"Well, you must be ready for a break then. I believe Mrs. Peckham has some refreshment waiting for you," the investigator lied.
At least he could get the two older men out of the chapel for a few minutes, maybe longer, as they waited for a cuppa in the kitchen. He hoped the woman was beyond earshot.
"I could go for that!" Dodd said, tossing his ax to the side without a care of where it might land. "Come on, Davey."
The left corner of Mr. Peckham's mouth curled down and he lifted an eyebrow, dubious of the idea. He shrugged and shuffled off after Henry. Harold stood aside to let the men pass by, before turning to go himself. Duncan grabbed his brother by the elbow, pulling him back into the chapel and put a finger to his lips.
"Wheesht," Duncan whispered, and eased the door closed.
"I want some refreshment too," he ventured in a whisper.
"There is no refreshment, Harold. I just said that to get rid of them for the moment. We've got to take stock in here and try to repair any damage they've done. This is tantamount to a disaster," Duncan lamented, running his fingers through his hair.
Dispossessed of the idea of treats awaiting in the kitchen, Harold didn't allow his disappointment to suppress his youthful enthusiasm. He leapt into the dig area, and set about configuring the slate and pamments into small piles. He pointed to a spot along the perimeter of the room, where Duncan assumed he should stand. Then, the younger Dewar began tossing the stones and tiles up to his brother, who arranged them along the wall. In a few minutes, the area was cleared of that debris.
The investigator joined his brother in the pit, handing him a trowel. They began scooping up small amounts of dirt from the mosaic and placing the soil in piles to the side of the labyrinth. They'd just finished this when Mr. Peckham charged into the room.
"The missus didn't make any snacks. She didn't even know what we were talking about," he said, raising his voice.
Duncan glanced up at the man who leered at the brothers, a tint of malice in his eyes.
"Oh, I must have misunderstood," he replied, his voice calm. "The accent, you know," he added.
Peckham bared his teeth, not bothering to hide his belligerence.
"I doubt that, Interfere."
The man glanced around the room, taking note of the changes made since he'd left on his goose chase. The insult wasn't lost on Duncan. He'd overheard islanders referring to outsiders this way in hushed tones at the pub. Peckham drew himself up, no longer looking decrepit but ominous, like the grim reaper. Already elevated above the brothers by standing outside the dig, he towered over them, threatening. The normally docile Harold took note and straightened, keeping his trowel at his hip as if a weapon.
The investigator pretended not to notice Peckham's demeanor or his brother's reaction and continued relocating dirt from the mosaic. An intense silence hung in the air, and he guessed Davey tried to size the brothers up before aiming another jibe their way. Just as the atmosphere started to feel like a miasma, Viking made his presence known, snaking between their antagonist's legs and producing a sound akin to the skirl of an angry bagpipe.
Davey jumped, startled, and almost fell into the pit. Viking made his stand at the edge of the dig, ears pinned back, eyes trained on Mr. Peckham.
"Bloody cat!" Peckham said, stepping away from the animal.
"What's all this?" Henry Dodd asked, stepping through the doorway with a piece of toast in his hand.
"We're relieving you of the monotony of swinging that pickax, Mr. Dodd, not to mention the sore back you'll have tomorrow. You and Davey can haul these stones out with the trolley to the yard. We've been stacking them in the back corner of the garden. Mind you, these brown pamments are valuable, according to Julien Townsend. He's keeping them safe somewhere," Duncan stated, eyeing Davey Peckham up and down.
"Very good," Dodd said, happy to be helpful and nibbling on his toast. "Let's find the cart, Davey," he added, swallowing a bit of crust.
As soon as Peckham followed Anna's husband out of the chapel, the pernicious mood seemed to rush from the room, like air leaving a balloon. Viking's temper could still be felt, however, as he stood guard near the door.
"Ach! I don't know what came over me, Duncan. I felt like giving that glaikit oaf a welt on the head," Harold exclaimed.
The brothers stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. The release of tension felt good. Viking took no notice of their gaiety.
"We're fortunate those two did no real damage in here. That Peckham acts like he's a despot, although Henry's all right." Duncan drew in a deep breath and continued, "Let's finish as much as we can without them."
He studied the area and realized in spite of the mess, the older men had cleared much of the rubble off. By dint of good luck, the mosaic remained unharmed and valuable time saved. Duncan took a small brush and began clearing dirt and debris off the labyrinth as Harold removed more soil from the pit. They tried to ignore the older men as they came in and out, trundling away with the old pavers and earth. Henry Dodd did the bulk of the labor, with the sullen Peckham only helping to guide the cart. Now, the brothers could access most of the design. It just needed a good brushing.
Around tea time, a faint rumble from the windows announced another incoming storm. Duncan glanced out one of the tall panes and saw a cloudburst catch the older men as they raced for the house. They soon appeared in the doorway, dripping water. Henry chuckled, using a towel he had grabbed from the kitchen to wipe his face. As they stepped into the chapel, the investigator suggested Peckham and Dodd go home and thanked them for their help. A quiet hostility oozed from the unpleasant, soaking wet accountant, while Dodd a
sked good-naturedly if he couldn't stay on and be of some help. Duncan assured Henry that the bulk of the work was completed and again thanked the men.
"Ha! Did you see that drookit accountant? Served him right, the sour bugger," Harold remarked when they were alone again.
"Yes, it was almost worth the disagreeable aftertaste he left. I'd rather work alone than with him hovering about," Duncan stated.
The two worked another hour before they noticed the light waning. Viking had long before disappeared down the corridor and left the brothers alone. Something about that animal gave Duncan an uneasy feeling. He glanced out the window and noticed the downpour had shifted to mizzle. Harold asked if they should find a lantern and continue clearing the floor. One last square meter filled with flooring, pamments and soil remained.
"My, you have made a dent, haven't you!"
The brothers looked up to see Reginald had finally surfaced.
"I bet Henry and Mr. Peckham were a great help," he stated.
Duncan shot Harold a sidelong glance before replying, "Yes, they saved us a lot of time," with great diplomacy.
"Quite right! I'm so glad they were willing to come. Sorry I didn't pop by sooner and join in myself, but I've been working on my lectures, tidying everything up for the students," Reggie explained. "I also had to run Donny over to the mainland to take care of some banking or such matter. Appears there was a small crisis at the Blue Bell," he added.
"I hope nothing serious," Duncan said.
"No, I dropped him at the pub before coming back here. I'm going to join him there for dinner now. Would you two care to join us?"
"Thank you, Reggie, but I'm pretty well spent. I think I'm going to go back to the room and rest," Duncan replied.
"What about you, Harold? Care to come along, or do you have plans with the lovely Penny?"
"Thank you for the offer, but I'm taking Penny out tonight," Harold said, his face brightening.
"Quite right. Well, I'll say good night then. Will I see you, Duncan, before we leave on Monday?"
Mystery: The Laird's Labyrinth: A Duncan Dewar Mystery of Murder & Suspense (Duncan Dewar Mysteries Book 4) Page 12
