Mystery: The Laird's Labyrinth: A Duncan Dewar Mystery of Murder & Suspense (Duncan Dewar Mysteries Book 4)

by Victoria Benchley

  "Good boy, Viking," Duncan said, lifting the ax.

  Duncan used the back of the pick like a crowbar, trying to pry the lid off the sealed well. He felt the marble give way just a bit. The investigator readjusted the ax and tried again, employing more of his body weight as leverage. He saw that the cap had a smaller section carved to fit into the neck of the pillar, like a perfume stopper. He hoped that section didn't prove too long or he'd never be able to remove the stone. He gave it another go, and this time his efforts paid off. Duncan was able to dislodge the top from its base. He moved to the other side of the small room and used the back of his implement like a hook, pulling the marble slab to him and easing the heavy object to the ground with a groan.

  He then hastened to the other side of the well and gazed down, listening for the sound of water. A foul odor met him and he shook his head, repulsed, and pulled away from the opening, brushing his heel against Viking. He started to turn to examine the furry beast when he saw a blinding flash of white light and felt an agonizing sharp pain penetrate his skull.

  -19-

  An Alarm Raised

  "Are you the owner of a Vauxhall, vehicle plate number… " an official voice addressed Angus, inquiring as to the auto and his current address.

  Duncan's younger brother and owner of several automotive garages had stopped by his parents' home that morning intending to visit his mum. He'd been busy with work, now that Harold was on holiday, and hadn't been by the house in weeks. His mum had recently returned from an extended trip to Spain, and he was anxious to see her. Finding no one home, he'd decided to wait for Margaret and ended up napping on the couch.

  Angus fumbled with the receiver before recognizing his car's license plate number.

  "Yes, that's right. What's going on?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his free hand and imagining there were overdue parking tickets to pay.

  As the public relations officer from Rescue Services explained the situation, the color drained from Angus's face and he dropped the phone.

  * * * * * *

  A small crowd assembled in the Dewar home before Margaret returned from her errands. Angus summoned his father, as soon as he gathered his wits, from the university where the man taught physics. James paced the floor awaiting the arrival of his wife. After leaving several messages for Harold, Angus rang up Donald Merriwether, explaining that Duncan was missing, presumed drowned in the North Sea from where the now ruined Vauxhall had been recovered. The younger Dewar thought the old innkeeper had a heart attack when he heard his grunt and the crash his phone made when it hit the floor.

  The vicar of the kirk Angus attended, close friends, and neighbors all huddled in Margaret's kitchen. A group prayed with hushed tones in the corner. Others spread word of the tragedy, whispering into their cellular devices, while two women arranged biscuits, fruit and cheeses on platters.

  Everyone froze when they heard the latch turn in the nearby hallway. Mrs. Dewar meandered into her kitchen not aware anything was wrong. Glancing around at the faces in her home, Margaret let her purse slip from her grasp and bolstered herself against the nearest wall, as items spilled from her pocketbook and rolled across the floor.

  James moved towards his wife, enveloping her in a protective embrace and whispering the few facts he knew into her ear. A whimper like that of a wounded animal escaped her lips as most of the crowd slipped past the couple, patting James's shoulder or giving Margaret's arm a squeeze, on their way out of the house. Besides Angus, only the vicar and two of the brothers' school chums remained.

  James led his wife away from the kitchen, while the vicar asked Angus if there was anything else he could do to help.

  Angus replied, "Pray," to which the parson nodded.

  "Dee Dee is going to be all right, Angus. He wouldn't let a little thing like the North Sea get the better of him," Hamish stated.

  A large bloke with shoulder length strawberry blonde hair and a well-groomed beard, Hamish grew up playing football with the brothers. He had always been an optimist, the way someone who doesn't think too far into the future can be.

  "That's right, Angus. Let us know if we can help in any way. We're just a ring away, Mate," John Boyd, another friend, volunteered before giving his mate a hug and leaving the Dewar home with Hamish and the rector.

  Angus drew a sharp breath and collapsed into a chair. A hundred different thoughts ran through his head at once. He grabbed his mobile phone and shot off text messages to his siblings in Australia, then one to his sister in London. He put the best spin possible on the situation.

  He recalled what the representative for Rescue Services had told him. The tide came in during the wee hours of the morning yesterday, before dawn. A large storm, the one causing rain in Edinburgh now, brought a high tidal surge. Once the sun rose, someone spotted a vehicle, bobbing in the current, near the submerged causeway. Officials summoned a boat, but it had difficulty reaching the automobile due to the strong currents and violent waves. The crew spotted a partial plate as the car bobbled amongst the rollers. The auto appeared abandoned. The storm prevented further investigation.

  Conditions for an air rescue didn't prove safe until earlier that morning when an emergency crew in a helicopter flew over the area looking for survivors. When the surge and tide receded, rescue workers made note of the full plate, consulted official records, and telephoned Angus. Duncan's brother never bothered to change his address in the official register when he moved to his own flat, so they located him at his parents' house.

  An island resident was contacted who verified a visitor had been seen driving the car around the village and that its driver was affiliated with Reginald Norcroft. A constable from the mainland checked at Norcroft Manor after the causeway opened, but found the house empty.

  Buzzing from his cellular jerked Angus from his musings. He hoped it was Duncan calling to explain things. He grabbed his mobile and found his sister Sophie's name flashing on the screen.

  "Is there any word?" she asked without saying hello.

  "None," Angus replied.

  "Well, we can't just sit around and do nothing."

  "The local police and Rescue Services are trying to find him, Soph. If we rush down there now, we'll only meet another tide and have to sit around for six or eight hours, doing nothing. I've tried to reach everyone and left messages when I couldn't."

  "What about Harold? Wasn't he with Duncan?"

  "Harold's not answering his phone. I contacted Donald Merriwether, Duncan's friend from Taye. He was on the island with them. He explained that Harold and Duncan's client, Reggie Norcroft, left for a few days to attend a conference at a nearby university while the innkeeper went back to Taye to check on his business. Duncan was over there alone, Soph. I don’t know what to think. He's not one to take unnecessary risks."

  "I'm coming up there just as soon as I can, Angus. My husband's on his way home now and when he gets the girls settled, I'm going to drive to the island or Edinburgh or wherever you and Mum and Dad are."

  "All right. Keep in touch. I expect we'll be heading down to Lindisfarne this afternoon, so we can be there after the tide."

  Angus signed off with his sister and called the mechanic in charge at each of his garages, explaining he'd be away and what must be done in his absence. He told his parents his plan to pack a bag and drive to Lindisfarne later that day. They agreed to go as well. Angus ran a few necessary errands and returned to the Dewar house later that afternoon.

  In the sitting room, he found his parents' luggage. He examined his father's dilapidated old leather suitcase. It was the same piece James had taken to the States years ago to be a guest lecturer at a university on the east coast. For Angus, those years spent in America proved happy, carefree times. He knew Duncan's experience had been different.

  Angus gulped involuntarily when his mum appeared from the bedroom. Her eyes were red and swollen. For the first time in Angus's life, he saw her at a loss for words. James Dewar trailed his wife into the par
lor, his jaw set like granite, his face expressionless. Angus didn't know what to make of them. His mum always seemed a tower of strength, but now she appeared on the verge of collapse. He watched as his father, the retiring, quiet professor, took charge of the situation.

  "While you were gone, I contacted the local law enforcement on the mainland and Rescue Services. We will be met in Berwick-On-Tweed by a constable who will escort us to a meeting with the search team. They'll give us an update on the area they've covered and where they plan to look next. I want to make sure everything is handled systematically," James stated without emotion.

  Margaret began to cry and he immediately squeezed her hand.

  "Now, Dear, we're not certain anything has happened to Duncan. For all we know, some local youth stole the Vauxhall and left it in the causeway as a prank. Duncan could be out exploring the island with no clue of what's transpired or he could be off the island altogether, exploring Northumberland. It's too soon to think the worst, Darling."

  Mrs. Dewar sniffled and nodded. James picked up their suitcases and proceeded into the kitchen, towards the door. Angus had already placed his overnight bag in the boot of his father's saloon. Before the three could make it to the hall, a loud knocking summoned their attention. Mr. Dewar set the bags down and led his wife to a chair, then went to the door, opening it a crack to see who was there.

  "I’m sorry to intrude, but I had to come."

  Angus strained his neck to catch a glimpse of who spoke. The voice sounded familiar.

  "Please come in. We were just preparing to leave for Lindisfarne," James said, opening the door wide and stepping to the side of the hall.

  Donald Merriwether, red-faced and sweating as though he'd run all the way from Taye, marched into the house. The innkeeper had visited Duncan in Edinburgh twice during the past seven or eight months, so the Dewars were familiar with him.

  "I had to see ye. Something aint right about this. The lad knew better than to race the causeway. He never would ha' din such a thing. Dae ye ken?"

  He looked from Angus to Mr. and Mrs. Dewar imploringly.

  He continued, "Yer lad came to Holy Island because I asked him to, but when I left him he jist wanted to swatch the labyrinth. He was alone in that mausoleum, itching to get at it. Ach! He's the opposite of glaikit! Dae ye ken?"

  Donald gesticulated wildly during his speech, then collapsed despondent on the divan. Margaret and James looked to Angus for an interpretation of the innkeeper's ramble since they'd not heard of the labyrinth or Norcroft Manor, but their son just shook his head.

  "Mr. Merriwether, have you spent much time on Lindisfarne?" James asked, appearing calm.

  "Aye, o'er the years I've been there many a time, visiting my mate Reggie. He's yer lad's client," the innkeeper replied, his face a mass of wretchedness.

  "Would it be too much to ask if you'd consider joining us?" James asked. He continued, "We were just about to leave. We have a scheduled meeting in two and a half hours, but you might be of some help with the locals, and by filling in details of what's been going on down there for law enforcement and ourselves."

  "Of course. I'll do whatever I can. Ye know I'm so fond of yer lad. I can't bear to think that a thing's happened to 'im."

  -20-

  A Gathering of Forces

  The meeting took place in the municipal building at Berwick-On-Tweed. Locals from the mainland prepared a conference room, and a liaison from Rescue Services led the Dewar family to their seats around a long oval table before easing the door shut. The latch made a click that echoed down the otherwise silent tiled hall outside. Donald waited there, in a plastic and chrome chair. He was soon joined by members of the local press, who compared notes in whispers and hushed tones.

  On the other side of the hollow wooden door, law enforcement, public officials, and others awaited the family. The liaison, a woman in her early forties who'd previously introduced herself as Whilimena, presented the stoic faced crowd to the Dewar family. Already seated, these included Berwick-On-Tweed's constable and his sergeant, a pilot just back from the search, a public relations officer from Rescue Services, and a council member. Whilimena took charge and directed the gathering.

  The pilot explained that the storm had only let up enough in the past few hours to employ an organized search from the air. They'd been risking too much when they first flew over the Vauxhall, hoping to find the driver nearby or still in the vehicle. Aircraft remained grounded most of the day.

  The constable discussed the search of Norcroft Manor, the Puffin, and other businesses Duncan had frequented during his stay. Finally able to contact Reginald Norcroft and Harold Dewar through Newcastle University, the police representative assured the family both men would arrive soon. Law enforcement found Duncan's mobile phone at the manor and located the employees of Mr. Norcroft, who would be interviewed later that evening on the island.

  A search and rescue official produced a chart showing the areas in the Atlantic where the current likely swept Duncan. Someone marked small squares within that region with an X, signifying where Rescue Services already performed a flyover.

  "What about the possibility that a fishing boat or some other private ship picked him up?" Margaret asked.

  The public relations officer addressed the question, stating that all vessels in an expanded area had been notified of the situation. He added that they had also completed a search of the mainland's coast and another would be conducted in the morning. Margaret fought back tears.

  "Duncan is a good swimmer. Are there any rocky outcrops or similar spots where he might have sought shelter?" James Dewar asked.

  Again, the public relations officer took the question, answering that those locations were being checked by helicopter pilots currently in the air. He added that the search would continue until nightfall at approximately 1800 hours.

  "The Berwick-On-Tweed council has been kind enough to volunteer this building as our headquarters," Constable Fenwick stated. He continued, "Once Mr. Norcroft arrives, I'd like the family to move to Holy Island, where I'll be setting up a temporary command center."

  Whilimena rose and said, "If the family would like, you can stay here in the conference room until your son, Harold, and Mr. Norcroft arrive. We've directed them to join us here. There's coffee, tea and refreshments on the credenza," the liaison gestured towards a low bureau on the wall opposite the Dewars.

  They hadn't even noticed the large shiny urn, tray of biscuits, or other accoutrements. The others filed from the room in silence, leaving the Dewars alone. The room was stark with its overhead fluorescent lighting, white tile floor and laminated cheap office furniture. No one spoke but James grasped Margaret's hand and did not let go. Everything seemed bleak as the minutes ticked by with no word of Duncan. Angus checked his mobile, knowing the text messages he had sent to his siblings in Australia arrived in the middle of the night. Once they awoke and checked their cellular phones, they'd be trying to reach him.

  Scrolling through dozens of messages from concerned friends, church members, and colleagues, Angus jumped when he heard a lone rap on the door. It opened and Harold, a man they all assumed was Reginald Norcroft, and Donald Merriwether poured into the room, slamming the door behind.

  "This just can't be happening again. I just told the constable it wasn't possible!" Reggie proclaimed, his voice filled with anxiety.

  The energetic man introduced himself and shook each Dewar's hand with vigor before plunking himself in an empty chair.

  "He's right, Mum, Dad. We both knew not to race the tide to get off the island. Duncan warned me about it himself, and Reggie cautioned both of us as well," Harold said, giving his parents an earnest stare.

  "Quite right. We admonish everyone who visits us to be wary of that causeway. My own grandfather perished trying to beat the tide," Reginald exclaimed, then gasped as if he'd released a secret that the Dewars shouldn't have been told. He continued with haste, "At least that's what we believed until your boy set us to rights. "<
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  "It's true. The lad ran that mathematical invention of his on the computer and said Reggie's grandfather was murdered and everything staged to look like an accident," Donald volunteered.

  "Uhm, uhm," Constable Fenwick cleared his throat.

  The police officer stood in the doorway. No one had noticed him open the door, so taken were they with Reggie's story.

  "If the family would like to follow me out the back door, I've arranged transportation to the island. We've cleared the newspaper men from the building, but I'm afraid they're waiting for you on the steps in front," Fenwick stated.

  James Dewar nodded and ushered his clan from the conference room, following the constable down a darkened hallway to a police vehicle. The sergeant present at the initial meeting sat at the wheel, and Harold took the seat next to him as Angus and his parents squeezed into the back seat. All the while, James never released his wife's hand. Reggie drove Donald in the Jaguar to the manor, where the others waited in the drive. Heavy rain became drizzle as the last bands of the great tempest progressed to the mainland.

  Before Reggie could herd everyone through the kitchen door, Constable Fenwick arrived alone, in another police car. Once the laird of the manor had everyone situated in the hall, he lit a fire and offered them a brandy. James forced a snifter on Margaret and Angus partook, downing the alcohol in a single gulp, but everyone else declined.

  "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to set up my command center for the island here, at Norcroft Manor," Fenwick said.

  "Quite right. Anything you say, Constable," Reggie volunteered.