by Blake Banner
He looked startled, then laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just told you we were going to get married.”
“Like your son and his fiancée?”
He scowled at me. “What’s your point?”
“That just because people are engaged to be married, it doesn’t mean they don’t screw around.”
“Sally is not like that.”
“So she wasn’t screwing your son?”
He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “That’s your theory?” He laughed again. “You’re clutching at straws.” He gestured at me, then at Dehan. “This? This is New York’s finest? Give me a break!”
I glanced at Dehan. She shrugged with her eyebrows. I sat back in my chair. “Just a couple more questions.”
“I hope they’re a bit more intelligent than the last one, Detective Stone.”
“What were you doing in the broom cupboard?”
He went very still. “What?”
“When Cameron turned up to tell you what he thought of you, you had been doing something in the broom cupboard. What?”
He didn’t answer for a very long moment. Then he looked up at me and narrowed his eyes. “If you must know, Brown told me you had asked to look inside. I was curious to see what you had been looking for.”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Yes, of course, some kind of secret door. I wondered if you had found one, but on inspecting all those shelves, as you must have done, it was clear there was no secret door there.” He sighed again. “Anything else, Stone?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“What? I am beginning to think I would have been better off allowing chaos and mayhem to reign. At least I might have got some sleep.”
“Tell me about your will.”
“My will?”
The answer surprised me, as did the expression on his face. It was hard to fathom. “Yes, Mr. Gordon, your will. Who else’s will would I be asking you about?”
He made a face, shrugged, shook his head. “It might make sense to ask about Charles’ will. After all, he is the one who has been murdered. I would have thought the pertinent question would be who benefits from his death, not mine.”
“I was under the impression,” I said, “that he had no wealth of his own. That your wealth would one day be his wealth.”
He shrugged again. “I have no idea what he had. I really wasn’t interested. I let him use the castle as an hotel. He made something from that. It entertained me to have guests.”
“Was he your heir?”
“For the moment, yes. Him and Pam. But obviously, in view of my upcoming marriage to Sally, it was in my mind to change my will. I hadn’t decided on the details yet.”
“Is Bee a beneficiary?”
“She receives something. Why? Why these questions about my will?”
I stood, stretched my back and heard the vertebrae crack. I took a few paces away, staring unseeing at the room around me. I was aware of something nagging at my mind, but each time I tried to grasp it, it dispersed like mist. Then I heard myself ask, as though the question had come from somewhere else, “What, exactly, is your fortune, Mr. Gordon?”
“What is this impertinence?”
I turned to face him. He was scowling at me.
“It’s a very simple question. What is your fortune? What do you own? This castle? The island? Is there more in Boston? Mainland Britain? What about stocks and shares? What is your income? How rich are you, and what is the nature of your wealth?”
He stood. “You’re going too damned far, Stone! I said I’d pay you anything you ask to clear up Charles’ murder, not to go prying into my private, personal affairs! It’s none of your damned business what my fortune is or what I’m worth!”
I shrugged. “Suit yourself. Either way, I know who killed your son, and your father. And I know how.”
Dehan stared at me wide-eyed, mirroring Gordon’s face across the table. His eyes bulged and so did his cheeks, erupting in a sudden expostulation, “You’re bluffing!”
I shook my head. “Makes no difference to me. Sounds like the storm is easing off. Tomorrow or the day after, we’ll be on our way to enjoy the rest of our honeymoon somewhere a little less remote and stressful. And you can sit there and tell the Scottish police to go to hell. But I guarantee, they will be asking the very same questions as me. You know why? Because I will have put them into their heads before I leave.”
He sneered at me, but without much conviction. “Forty years people have been trying to solve that murder, and now you’re going to come along and…”
I smiled. “It’s what we do.” I turned to Dehan. “Come on, Dehan, let’s go get some sleep.”
“Wait!” He became serious. “You really know who killed my son, and my father?”
I nodded. “Yes. I know who and I know how.”
“And you can prove it?”
I sighed. “If you help me, yes.”
“Tell me who, and how!”
I shook my head. “We do it my way. First you tell me about your money…”
He sighed, rubbed his face and said, “Fine, I’ll have to contact my solicitor when the storm blows over, to bring… everything. He’ll have to come over…”
“How long will that take?”
“Not long, he’s just over the water. You’ll have to know… the details… I suppose.” He stared at me hard. “But I am counting on you to keep this strictly confidential! That’s the deal!”
SEVENTEEN
Sally stood, but the others remained seated. They all stared. Then Sally half rushed across the room, staring at Gordon with anxious eyes, saying, “Oh, Charles! Come and sit down. What you must be going through!”
She led him back across the room to a chair and sat him down. I glanced at Ian. There was real hatred in his eyes as he watched them. I took a deep breath and spoke.
“We’re pretty much done here.”
Armstrong looked offended. “Ye haven’t spoke t’me! Ye haven’t got mah point of view!”
I nodded at him. “That’s because I don’t need it, Armstrong.” I looked back at the others. “We now have statements from everybody who was at the house at the time of Charles’ murder. We hope to be able to contact the police on the mainland tomorrow, and they can take over from there.” I smiled at Dehan. “And we can get back to our honeymoon.” I looked back at the assembled faces. “I should tell you, however, that we have been able to establish who murdered Charles tonight, who murdered his grandfather almost forty years ago, and how it was done.”
There was a collective gasp from those assembled except Cameron, to my right and slightly behind me, who looked at me with contempt and sneered, “You have got to be kidding!”
I ignored him and watched the major get unsteadily to his feet. He was frowning hard. He spoke above a rising murmur of voices. “Are you serious? But…” He shook his head. “That’s fantastic. I hope you’re not… How could you possibly…?”
Armstrong, sitting beside Cameron, raised his voice rose above the others. “He couldn’t, tha’s how! Ut’s no possible. He’s bluffing!”
Sally was speaking urgently to Gordon. Gordon was shaking his head, answering under his breath. Cameron was on his feet, approaching me. “If you know who done it, tell us! I say ye’re full o’ bullshit!”
Armstrong stayed seated, half-shouting. “Yis don’t know shit!”
If you shout back, they just shout louder. So I spoke quietly. “I will communicate my findings to the police tomorrow, and they will act on them and it will be up to them to find the evidence to prove, or disprove, what Detective Dehan and I have found.” The room fell silent. I added, “You all had the opportunity to speak before. If you have anything to say, that was the time to have said it. If you didn’t say it then, I suggest you wait till morning and tell the cops when they arrive.”
Armstrong spoke up again. “Ah didneh get a chance to speak. You don’t want ta hear what ah have to say, do ye? Wha’s the matter? The ol
d man paying yous to keep a few things quiet?”
Suddenly Sally was on her feet and Gordon was pulling at her arm, telling her to sit and be quiet. But she wasn’t in the mood to sit or be quiet. Her red hair flying and her blue eyes flashing, she let rip.
“Why don’t you shut yer fuckin’ mouth, Bobby Armstrong? All you and yer bloody whooring mother ever did was cause trouble! Why don’t you fuckin’ sit doon an’ shut yer fuckin’ trap fer once in your fuckin’ life!”
You have never really seen anger until you have seen an angry Scotsman. Armstrong’s face went crimson and the veins in his forehead stood out and pulsed. His eyes were wide and staring. He stood and his voice was a rasp in his throat.
“Who are you callin’ a fuckin’ whoore? Fuckin’ thus thievin’ bastard and fuckin’ his son at the same fuckin’ time! An’ you call my mother a whoore?”
I saw Gordon flash a look at Sally and then at me. He was putting two and two together. But Armstrong hadn’t finished yet. He was stabbing the air with a finger that would have pierced concrete.
“At least mah mother was faithful te Old Gordon. At least she loved the old man! But you? You are just a gold digging fuckin’ user!” He turned and pointed at Cameron. “Ye’re married to a good man! An honest man! And you humiliate him every fuckin’ day with yer filthy, disgusting behavior! Ye should be ashamed o’yerself!”
Sally was not about to be silenced. “Och! Spare me yer bloody moralizing sermon, you hypocritical piece o’shite! You think we don’t know what you do when you get the ferry across to John O’Groats? You think the whole island doesn’t know you been seeing whoores? Cause no fuckin’ island woman will touch you!”
Armstrong went dangerously quiet. “What I been doin’ in John O’Groats is my own buznezz, Sally Cameron. But I’ll tell you thus. The only person on this island who doesn’t know about you and tha’ dead man in there, is his thievin’ fuckin’ father.”
The room was deathly silent. The major was staring hard at the floor. Sally had gone very pale. Armstrong sneered at Gordon, then turned to me. “Did yous include that titbit in your brilliant piece o’detection? Ah bet ye didn’t.”
He turned and sat down again. Cameron was still standing by my side, staring at Sally.
I looked around the room. “Are we all done? Good. I suggest you all go to your rooms and get some rest. Brown will arrange a couple of rooms for Mr. Armstrong and Dr. Cameron. I would ask you all to please stay tomorrow morning to speak to the police when they arrive. I am sure they will want to talk to you.”
Gordon got to his feet and looked suddenly like an old, broken man. Perhaps in that moment, he understood for the first time the nature of the weapon he had been wielding most of his adult life against his family. Sally reached out for him but he waved her away and crossed the room to the door.
Somebody rang the bell for Brown and shortly afterward, he led Cameron and Armstrong out into the hall and up the stairs to the spare rooms. That left Sally and the major. He made to leave, then stopped by the door and looked back at me. “Is it a bluff? Do you really know?”
I nodded.
He said, “Who and how…?”
“Who and how, major.”
He turned and hurried away, across the checkerboard floor and up the stairs, muttering something about talking to Bee. Sally stood watching us. After a moment, she said, “I guess I’ve blown it.”
Dehan nodded a few times. “Nothing like screwing a man’s son to undermine trust in a relationship.”
I frowned and shook my head. “What made you do it, Sally?”
She sighed, seemed to sag and lowered herself onto the arm of the chair where Gordon had been sitting. “You live in New York, fer God’s sake! How could you ever begin to understand what it’s like to live on an island like thus? It’s no purgatory. Purgatory is where we go fer a day out. I’m thirty years old. If I don’t get out now, I never will. I’ll spend the rest of my existence here, on this island.”
I went over to the tray of decanters and poured three drinks. I gave one to Dehan and another to Sally. “That doesn’t really answer my question. I get that you wanted to get out. I get that you and Gordon could have a marriage of convenience. I even get that if you knew he and Pamela were not happy, you’d be prepared to break them up. I don’t approve, but I get it. What I don’t get is why his son. Why Junior?”
She looked down into her glass for a while. “I’m no’ proud of it. It was Bee. She looks dappy, but she’s a smart cookie, I can tell ye. An’ she’s known Charles fer years. She saw what was goin’ on between us right at the start, and even then she advised me no’ to fall for him. She said he played with people, used them against each other, an’ she told me about all the things he’d done to Pam over the years. To be honest, I felt sorry for her.” She shrugged. “I mean, there was nothing I could do fer her. Their marriage was over, you know what I mean? It was over a long time before he met me. An’ I was determined to get off o’ the island one way or another. Cameron was fuckin’ useless. He thinks you have to be faithful to your fuckin’ roots an’ all that shite. If I stayed wuth him, I’d be here for the rest o’my days. An’ that’ was no goin’ to happen.”
“You’re losing me.”
“Sorry. I… Bee scared me. I could see myself jumping from the bloody frying pan into the fire. Land up married to the old goat and stuck on this bloody island with the old bastard playin’ with me and humiliating me the way he humiliates the rest of his bloody family. Or did, when he had one. So I thought…” She shrugged.
“You thought Charles Jr. was a better bet long term, so you’d hedge your bets and play them both. Junior was bound to come into some money at some time, and when he did, you’d jump ship.”
“Something like that, aye.”
“Were you aware of the terms of the old man’s will?”
She avoided my eye. “I asked him a couple of times, but he refused to tell me.”
I gave it a beat, then asked, “Was Charles going to tell his father?”
She looked startled. “No! He was terrified of his father. We both agreed. For now, until things…”
She faltered and Dehan asked, “Things what?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Until things had settled. We were just putting off a crisis.”
I smiled. “Until you were firmly married into the family money.”
Her eyes were hostile. “I can’t stop you from judging me, but that doesn’t mean you have the right.”
I never got to answer. There was a scream. It was shrill and touched with hysteria. It echoed over the banisters along the galleried landing and filled the hallway. I ran out of the drawing room and saw Bee in a pink negligee, waving her hands in the air and shouting, “Pam! Pamela! She’s done something! Oh God! Come quick! Please! Come quick!”
I swore under my breath and sprinted up the stairs three at a time. Bee ran, her pink robe flapping behind her, leading the way to the room where Pam had been taken by Cameron. I could hear Dehan right behind me, struggling in her tight red evening dress.
By the time we got to the room, just about everybody else was there, crowding around the door. I shoved my way through and found Cameron kneeling beside Pam’s bed. There was an empty pill bottle on her bedside table and an empty glass of water. I snapped, “Has anyone touched that glass or the bottle?”
Cameron snarled, “I’m losing her, I’m fuckin’ losing her! Somebody get me my case!”
Sally ran from the room. I repeated, “Has anybody touched these things?”
Cameron flushed and shouted, “No! Now get the fuck out of here!”
I ignored him and turned to the door. Brown’s bewildered, sleepy face had added itself to the throng along with the two girls. I said, “Brown, get me two freezer bags. Quick as you can.”
He shook his head, “What…?”
“Now!”
He hurried away. The major was helping Cameron get Pam to her feet. Sally came back with Cameron’s case, sq
ueezed into the room and handed it to him. She said, “What can I do?”
He snarled, “You can get out’a my fuckin’ sight, is what you can do!”
She went pale and backed away. Cameron and the major took Pam to the en suite. I heard feet running up the stairs and a moment later one of the maids appeared, breathless and wide-eyed, and handed me a roll of freezer bags. I bagged the bottle and the glass and handed them to Dehan. She grabbed them and turned to the crowd.
“OK, guys, let’s let the Doc do his job.”
They backed away a step or two, jostling against each other. Bee had her hands over her mouth and was blinking back tears. She kept repeating, “I just came to see if she was all right…” Armstrong was peering over her head with a sullen twist to his mouth.
“How do we know he didn’t do ut hi’sen?”
Dehan said, “Just get out, Armstrong, and try not to talk for a while.”
“Fuck yous!”
I stepped over to him. “Hey, wiseass. You know what? We’re not in New York. You know what that means? It means if I smack you in that big mouth of yours, I don’t lose my job. Talk to my wife like that again and I’ll throw you over the damn banisters.”
He was going to tell me to try but decided against it and went away muttering. I looked around. I couldn’t see Gordon. I went back into the room. In the bathroom I could hear the sound of dry retching. My mind was racing. I looked at the decanter on the bedside table. In the bathroom I could hear Cameron saying, “We got to make her vomit… I don’t know why she won’t…”
There were more ugly, spasmodic noises. I kept staring at the decanter. It was almost full. I swore violently and went into the bathroom. They had Pam kneeling over the pan, trying to make her throw up the tablets. I stared at the soles of her feet.
I said, “She was injected.”
Cameron turned and stared at me. “What?”
I pointed. “There. On the sole of her foot. The decanter is full. The tablets were to make it look like suicide.”
Something close to panic twisted his face. “But, what the hell did he give her? How am I supposed…?”
“Whatever is missing from your bag! Where the hell is Gordon?”
