Scotch Rising

by S. J. Garland

  Glancing down at Kieran, he must get into more trouble than I knew. I looked back at Tavish and indicated he should follow me across the room. The other man sighed wearily, however he humoured me. “Early this morning I found Logan dead in his office.” Tavish took a deep breath and before he could say I must be mistaken I interrupted him. “I know a dead man when I see one. Gone the same way as Mr Turner. Your brother has already gone up to the castle to inform Beathan.”

  The other man only nodded his understanding, there might be little love lost between Logan and himself. However, the death of someone so close always left a mark. He turned and watched Kieran for a moment before glancing around the room. He began to clear away the glasses and debris from the previous evening, disappearing into the rear of the cottage. I heard banging and water sloshing.

  The boy appeared made of stone and I did not want to intrude in his grief any longer. Turning to the front window, I watched for Angus or a messenger to come and fetch me. In truth I did not know what to do or say, again I would have to tell Beathan I fell victim to a random, failed attack. Would I tell him of my suspicions of Logan, now so utterly wrong, how could my instincts lead me so far from the truth?

  Cursing Colonel Manners for his schemes and machinations, I opened the front of my jacket, the cottage warm, and ran a finger down the condensation on the glass, if he had told me of Logan being a spy. I would never have wasted time suspecting him. I might have the real killer. Or perhaps Manners was suspicious of Logan, even after his confession of being in the employ of my superior. His political leanings made it impossible to rule him out as a suspect entirely. He might still be the man behind the murders. However, I knew there must be more to the story. The intricate knot in each of the hangman’s rope was a clue. I felt positive it could lead me to the rest of the criminals.

  I leaned forward and rested my head on the window. Tiredness crept into my bones. I needed to explore the hermit’s cave just as Logan recommended this morning, today. Even if it might have been a ploy to distract me, it remained my only lead. A movement outside the window made me wipe a larger space clear to look through. A maid hurried down the path, a heavy cape over her tartan dress and a large basket in her hand. I went to the door and opened it for her.

  “Och, Captain, a sorry business this.” The young lady stepped through without any hesitation. She stamped her feet to remove any excess snow and swept into the room. She stared at Kieran. “Poor wee mite” and walked over to squat in front of him.

  After whispering a few words of comfort, she turned her head. “Beathan is waiting for ye over at Deoch, in the mash tun building.” She quickly checked to see if her words distressed the boy, and called into the kitchen. “Tavish, they want ye down there as well, better get a move on.”

  Tavish came through dressed in his proper linen shirt and tartan, hat pressed firmly down over his unruly hair. “Thank ye, Maud, take guid care of the boy.” He walked over and opened the door for me.

  I hesitated a moment. I knew rationally there was nothing I could do. The boy would be an orphan from now on. No words of comfort could penetrate the fog of sorrow. I took a deep breath and walked out the door. Bringing the person who was responsible for Logan’s death to justice would be something at least.

  Walking briskly in oppressive silence, neither of us felt the need to make idle conversation. New Year’s morning should be a time to take stock, cradle our sore heads and discuss nothing of any concern. By the time we reached the office, Beathan and Angus stood outside the doorway, a couple of men worked quickly and silently to remove Logan’s body and cover it with a sheet. At least I did not have to see his face again.

  Beathan looked up from his conversation with Angus and nodded to us. I acknowledged his greeting and felt a new wave of frustration mixed with weariness infuse my soul.

  “Ye look as if ye could use a week’s worth of sleep, Captain.” Beathan studied my face. Probably noticing dark smudges under my eyes. “Let us on tae business, and we can try and set the morning tae rights.”

  The two brothers eyed each other warily for once, rather than with hostility. They both appeared to be hanging on a thread. Their mighty hangovers held at bay with sheer willpower. I watched the workmen lift the body and take it outside.

  Clearing his throat, “Father Tadgh has been informed,” Beathan, announced. “Ye found the poor man, did ye?”

  “Yes, as I made my way home from the Castle, someone took a shot at me.” The other men watched with keen interest, wearing matching expressions as if they doubted my story. I fished for the lead ball in an inner pocket and showed it to the other men. “It came from the fens and I decided to take matters into my own hands and find the damned fellow.” All three men appeared to be taking more interest. “I heard footsteps following behind after only a few yards and I ducked and waited for them to come. Thinking it might be the shooter. It was Logan, which is why you may have noticed the broken nose. Logan could not have been the shooter, no powder burns, yet he told me he heard the shots and came to investigate.”

  “I hae tae say, Captain. Ye get yerself intae the most extraordinary adventures.” Tavish’s bloodshot eyes narrowed. “I can nae think of another man who has suffered as many in such a short space.”

  Looking over at the other man. I sighed, and turned my attention back to Beathan. “He told me he followed someone he believed this person could be responsible for the murder of the McKinneys and Mr Turner. However we needed to find the McGreevys to confirm his theory.”

  Holding up a hand. “Wait, did he tell ye who this mystery person may hae been?” Beathan watched me carefully. “We could end all this now, once and for all, get back tae our normal lives.”

  I shook my head and grimaced. “He would not say, even when I pressed him, said the truth would only be believable if he had proof.” The brothers looked disappointed. “I went home to dress properly and arm myself for a confrontation,” I indicated my clothing. “I came back at the allotted time and he did not appear. I waited for a few minutes and came in here and found him. Unfortunately Kieran followed me, damned stupid thing.”

  The other men nodded, we stood in silence for a few minutes, the others digesting my words. I wondered what they made of my story, as Tavish said. I did seem to fall into more than my share of adventures. I found it embarrassing.

  A grim look passed over Beathan’s features. “It’s obvious Logan perpetrated of all this,” he began. I frowned and he held out his hand to continue. “At first we thought he could hae been murdered. The bruises on his face and hands, yet ye admit tae having a scuffle with him.” I nodded my head and wanted to tell him he never landed a punch however he cut me off. “There is nae a soul in Markinch who does nae know of his hatred fur my family. He would hae done anything tae bring us down. He must a hae some scheme with an illegal still, maybe the McKinneys and Turner knew of its existence and he did away with them to keep his secret.”

  “Aye, well, it’s certainly possible.” Tavish nodded his head. I shook mine, there must be more to the story, why would he go to all this trouble?

  Beathan continued. “Perhaps he might have been in league with the McGreevys. They are near impossible tae track down at the best of times. We will probably nae know the full extent of Logan’s plans.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I think we better keep Logan’s true crimes tae ourselves in the village. Accept fur ye of course, Captain. Ye will want tae report the murderer found and deceased.”

  My brain worked sluggishly, yet the story did not feel right. I watched the brothers take Beathan’s turn of events as truth. They would not challenge him and even though I knew something did not feel right concerning his conclusions, I could not think of anything to contradict him.

  “Yes of course, Beathan.” I said quietly. “I will send word to London on the next packet of our discoveries. Our improved circumstances should keep Colonel Manners from taking any further action.”

  The other men nodded and I followed them from t
he rear of the building. Once on the main road, we watched the cart make slow progress up to the church and Beathan nodded to each of us. “I will see ye all tomorrow. We must put this tragedy behind us and begin the New Year.”

  Angus grumbled something and turned towards the water mill. The other Tavish doffed his cap and walked away. I stood alone in the middle of the empty buildings, exhaustion threatened to overcome my weary bones. I turned for home.

  The weak sunlight warming my face between the grey clouds scudding past might have cheered me, yet I knew Beathan’s conclusions could not be correct. I thought of the same knot in both the hangman’s nooses. It was possible Logan tied them both, first to murder Mr Turner and then to end his own life. I knew he did not land a single punch on my person last evening. He scuffled with someone else. It sounded stupid when I said it in my head. Perhaps Logan punched the ground or scraped his knuckles in another way. I kicked out at a lump of ice in the road to relieve some of my frustration.

  I went through the cottage gate and hesitated before opening the door. In my stupor, I forgot to mention the theft of Turner’s diary. The fact someone went through the cottage last evening and it could not have been Logan. He would have either been fighting for his life or trying to end it in his office. Passing into the cottage, I stood in the doorway of the drawing room. It looked as if a heavy wind had torn through and I rubbed my eyes. I needed sleep to think.

  Trudging up the stairs, I made sure the curtains remained pulled tight, removed my boots, placed my weapons within easy reach and lay down on the covers of the bed fully clothed, too tired to do anything else. I thought of the boy sitting in Tavish’s cottage, completely alone before I slept.

  A shrill scream made me sit up in bed, eyes full of sleep I jumped up and grabbed the tomahawks lying on the bedside table. Without a logical thought, I half tumbled down the stairs two at a time to face the danger.

  I found Freya surveying the damage in the drawing room, she turned to see me in the doorway again and let loose with another scream. Eyes rolling up in the back of her head, she fell onto the carpeted floor. Cursing, I hurried to set the weapons aside and went into the drawing room. I crouched down to make sure she had not gained any injuries from her fall. She appeared in one piece and after a minute her eyes fluttered open.

  “Captain, what do ye think running around the place like a damned heathen? Especially when the drawing room looks as if it might hae seen a fight.” She slowly sat up and gulped in a few breaths of air. “Ye hae taken a few years of my life. Ye hae, and on New Year’s Day, after such tragic events.”

  “I’m sorry, Freya.” I helped the woman stand and cleared a place for her to sit on the sofa. She fanned herself with a stray piece of paper. “It is all a very long, sordid story. I do not think I could go into it now.” I settled into my favourite chair. “You know of Logan?”

  She nodded slowly. “I was fetched this morn to collect Kieran from Tavish’s cottage. Thought it might be best if I watched over the lad, since our boys are couthy. If ye recall.” She sighed and looked out the window. “Poor mite, I feel terrible now fur the things I said of his father last evening.” She made the sign of the cross.

  My own guilt riding high and my lingering doubts over his guilt in the deaths of Mr Turner and the McKinneys prompted me. “None of us could have known what would happen last night. Indeed I have been trying to find clues to connect all these terrible goings on and never thought this might happen.”

  “Beathan mentioned ye were the body what found him.” She grimaced and glanced at me. “A terrible sight. I know.” She looked up at the rope and I examined the knot, it looked exactly the same, a twin to the other.

  Needing answers, I spoke more sharply than I intended. “Freya, did you tell anyone of the work I did in here. On Mr Turner’s diary, trying to decipher the code?”

  Freya frowned and looked down into her lap. She played with a stray strand of cotton for a minute before looking up again. “I dinnae think so, Captain, it seemed private. Even tae hae ye reading it, well it felt as if it breached Mr Turner’s space. Yet, I can nae be sure.”

  “You will let me know if you think of anyone?” I gestured to the upturned drawing room. “It appears someone took great pains in wanting to find the diary, and they did; it is missing.”

  The housemaid looked around thoughtfully. “In honesty, sir. I believed ye might have fallen intae a fit. Has anything else been taken?” I watched as she checked to make sure all of the valuables remained.

  “Everything else is in order.” I glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, the noon hour recently passed and my stomach growled. I had errands I needed to run. I wanted to check Logan’s body up at the church and there was another task to complete. “What is the best way to get to the hermit’s cottage Freya?”

  Her eyes widened. “I can nae think what ye might be about, going up there at this time of year.” She watched my face, my expression did not waver and she continued. “The best way is tae take a path leading from the rear of the castle through the fens, it will be dangerous this time of year. If ye go stick tae the path!”

  “Thank you, Freya. I will help you set the drawing room to rights when I return.” Trying to use my most charming smile. “Do you think I could get a bowl of your porridge before leaving on this mighty trek? I have not eaten a morsel since last evening.”

  Freya smiled widely and patted my shoulder. Finally, a task she could easily complete, which did not involve dead men or their orphaned children. “Will be ready in a thrice. I will pack some leftover shortbread I brought around. In case ye get hungry.”

  I set off in the weak New Year sunshine. The birds, unmindful of the tragedy facing Markinch, sang and clambered through the snowy heather. The horizon clear for once, not one cloud appeared to mar its vast beauty, with feet much heavier than the previous evening. I followed the road once again up through Deoch. This time not to meet Logan, yet a strange knot in my gut told me destiny lay beyond, a reckoning at least.

  The red buildings were not as silent as the early morning. Workers gathered in groups of two, three and five stood and spoke in low tones. I walked through as respectfully as I could. Each man wore a piece of black cloth tied to his arm, above the elbow.

  One of the workmen shouted. I recognised him as the one who trapped me in a bear hug the previous evening. I wanted to continue. Their mourning felt oppressive to me, the men here needed someone to blame for the tragedy. When I waved and made to continue, he shouted again.

  Not wanting to appear rude. I changed my tack and walked over to the group where he stood, large arms straining under his ill-fitting jacket. I gave them a quick bow. “Gentlemen, a sorry morning to meet upon.”

  “We’re nae gentlemen, Captain, only guid honest folk.” The man in the ill-fitting jacket observed wryly. “Ye look tae be on some business. We wanted tae ask ye if there might be truth in the rumour of a militia coming to Markinch?”

  Angry looks appeared on more than one man’s face. A few mumbled words I could not catch and one man spat onto the frozen ground. The situation felt more dangerous than I had previously believed and I put both of my gloved hands out in front of me. “I am not sure where you heard this gossip, all I can say is there are no plans for a militia to come here at the moment. None I have been informed of, so if it is true, I am unaware.”

  A small man from another group came over. His eyes darted from me to the rest of the group, the action reminding me of a ferret. “I think he’s lying. Mary Margaret had it from Susan, who said she spoke tae one of the servants up at the big house who works as Mistress Philomena’s body servant, and she was told in secret the militia were coming.”

  My eyes narrowed, I did not have time to put credence into any of this gossip. Never mind it contained a kernel of truth I did not want any of them to know. I felt some of them press forwards threatening me. “Listen to me, the militia will not be coming here if I can help it, and in order to complete my days work. I must be away. I
suggest the rest of you get back home and enjoy your last day of freedom before work starts again tomorrow.” I lifted my chin, looked several of them in the eye and marched away. Hoping I would not get an ice ball to the back of my head.

  Upon reaching the church, I found more men gathered in groups, the same as down at Deoch. I nodded to each them as I went through. I felt their hostile eyes burning into the back of my head, however I did not have the time or the resources to try and allay their fears. By the time I opened the door, my mood deteriorated as several of the men I passed called me a gauger arsehole. I slammed the portal on them. Unfortunately this only announced my entrance to those quietly reflecting inside.

  I stomped down the passage I took previously when I came to inspect the McKinneys. I could not see the querulous Father Tadgh in the main room of the church and I hoped he would not be with Logan. Wanting to hide from all the prying eyes staring from pews. I wrenched open the door and stepped inside, this time making an effort to close it quietly. When I turned, I found Father Tadgh and Beathan stared at me from the other side of the slab where Logan’s body lay.

  Father Tadgh gave me a grimace and he waved his hands in agitation. “There will be nae scientific experiments on this man. He may hae died in sin. Going against the laws of man and nature, yet ye will nae use his sin tae benefit, ye evil being!”

  Giving the priest the most bored look I could muster. I turned to look at Beathan. Who curiously watched Father Tadgh after his outburst. It appeared I was not the only person who thought his accusations absurd.