by Kennedy Kerr
‘Nae at all, Anthony. Carry on. What else happened that weekend?’ Hyland prompted the young man gently.
‘Later that night we’d had a few glasses of wine and the conversation got around to Liz; I think I mentioned she’d been the only one who ever really cared about me, the only one who ever did anything nice for me. Liz kept me out of harm’s way more times than I could count. Molly said it sounded like Liz was interfering with family business. I hadn’t told her about what we’d agreed about Grandmother, of course. I tried to explain that Liz was good – that she was the only good person in my life, really – but she refused to understand.
‘Anyway, we got into a huge argument about it. She said, didn’t I think that Liz was just trying to get half the estate off me? And, I don’t know… up to that point I had every intention of getting my solicitor onto the paperwork, to recognise Molly as my co-heir to the estate. But after she left, the next day, I decided to wait a while until I knew her better. Turns out I was right.’ Anthony sighed and wiped another tear from his eye. ‘I know that she must have had scars, being adopted, growing up knowing her parents didn’t want her. But there was something else in her. Something that was off.’
‘Meanwhile, Ben McKinley had visited Lady Dalcairney after hearing that she made love potions. We have to assume that Liz was telling the truth about that day – that he did visit. Liz would have been the one to let him in; maybe he called in advance and she realised who he wanted the love potion for. Or, she found out when he turned up unannounced. Either way, she saw an opportunity. Anthony had telephoned and told her what Molly was like and that he had concerns about her and the implications for the inheritance,’ Hyland said.
Temerity turned to address Anthony. ‘Both you and Liz were so scarred by years of mistreatment from the Dalcairneys, that the thought that Molly might have been just like your father must have been intolerable. You had your plan in place and it seemed as though your long suffering was almost at an end. You could come home, finally, once they had both died, of more or less natural causes. And I think Liz’s protective urge kicked in. Maybe it was panic. She put something in that powder, somehow, before Muriel came and got it. She would have had ample opportunity.’
‘I don’t know what she did. But when I heard about Molly’s death, I knew it was Liz. I hadn’t asked her to do that. I called her on the phone; I couldn’t believe what she’d done. Yes, Molly was… I don’t know. She was damaged, I think. But she didn’t deserve to die. We argued. Liz tried to explain, but I didn’t listen to her. It was the last time we spoke.’ Anthony fought to get his emotions under control. ‘I was planning to come back. I was going to come back and see her. We could have found a way out of all this…’ He trailed off.
Angus cleared his throat.
‘We can confirm that what we think is crushed, dried belladonna leaf was added to the love potion Lady Dalcairney gave to Ben McKinley. We found the bag on the premises at his house – amazingly, he’d hidden it in his bathroom cabinet and not got rid of it after Molly’s death. As he had no idea the powder was poisoned, he panicked after being arrested.’
‘So what happened on the night of the fire?’ Tilda asked.
David Dalcairney gave Tilda a level stare.
‘It had been brewing all those years, between us. I don’t know why Liz stayed. God knows she was miserable being at the Manor, but she wouldn’t go. So we all co-existed there for years in a kind of mutual contempt. I knew she loved Anthony and she’d convinced herself she was staying for him, God knows why. But I knew the truth. She was in love with me. You’re wrong to say that she wasn’t,’ Dalcairney said to Temerity.
Temerity said nothing, but exchanged a glance with Angus.
‘She was obsessed with me, it would be truer to say. She always had been. And when we spent that small amount of time training with your parents – learning magic together – ahhh, yes. We did have a connection. A magnetism. She was drawn to me and I to her. In that time, I won’t deny that we had a rather… physical relationship. But she… she grew too demanding. I had to end it. I expected her to leave the house after that, but she didn’t. For many years I didn’t realise that she continued her training with your parents.’
Angus cleared his throat.
‘The night before the fire, Temerity and I found the shed. We found blood there on the altar, mixed up in whatever Liz was making. I took a sample of it when I was there. It was Liz’s blood type, so I think we can assume she had used her own blood to intensify the power of whatever curse or magic she made, or thought she’d made.’ Angus met Temerity’s eyes. ‘Just in case you were wondering.’
Anthony looked repulsed, but didn’t say anything.
‘That just proves she was crazy!’ Dalcairney cried.
‘Not necessarily,’ Tilda interjected coolly. ‘Using one’s own blood for spell work is an old folk practice. There’s nothing evil about it, though it’s not that common these days.’
The Laird waved his hand dismissively at her. ‘Mad, all of you! Are you hearing this, Hyland?’ he cried again, but the Inspector shook his head.
‘Please, continue with your account. You were telling us about the shed?’ he replied evenly. David Dalcairney held the Inspector’s gaze for a long moment in which neither spoke: a battle of wills, Temerity thought. Finally, the Laird looked away and began to speak again.
‘Fine. On the night of the fire, I found her there. In the shed, amongst all her magical ephemera. I’d worked it out, you see. Molly had met Liz when she came up to the house and told me about Liz visiting her as a child. Liz had lied to me all that time; about Molly’s existence, about Emma drowning in the loch. I was furious with her, as you can imagine.’ Dalcairney appealed to the Inspector across the table. ‘Kim. You’re a father. You must know how I felt.’
The Inspector nodded.
‘Go on, David,’ he said neutrally.
‘Well. The argument got a bit out of hand, I’ll admit that. I slapped her face, reasonably hard, I suppose. She fell over but I didn’t help her up, I was too angry. I told her that she could pack her bags, I didn’t want her in my house any more. I walked out. I didn’t look back. I went down to the loch and took the boat out for a row. I needed to get my head together. When I came back, the house was on fire. I couldn’t find her.’
‘We estimate that she took a fall, knocked herself out on the edge of a table or on the floor. She must have knocked over a candle or two and the whole thing set alight. It was full of fabrics. They would have caught fire very quickly,’ Angus said, quietly.
‘Murderer!’ Anthony lunged at his father, but Alf jumped in between them before he could make contact.
‘Hey! Settle down,’ he said, pulling Anthony back. David Dalcairney remained where he was, in his seat. He laughed at his son.
‘Look at the knight in shining armour I raised,’ he commented to no one in particular.
‘You left her there to die!’ Anthony screamed at his father. ‘She burned alive!’
‘How was I supposed to know that?’ the Laird replied calmly. ‘However, it doesn’t explain the house fire. The shed was nowhere near the main house. There was a whole garden full of damp soil in between. Got any answers for that?’
‘What about the maid, Sally? She was the only one who wasn’t there. She could have set the fire before she left that morning,’ Tilda said suddenly. ‘She’s been pretty suspicious from the start, always hanging around, watching, never saying anything,’
The Inspector shook his head.
‘We questioned Miss Shearing after the fire. Her ma and pa confirmed that she’d come home at her normal time with nothin’ amiss. They also explained tae us that Miss Shearing was aboot tae leave Dalcairney Manor; she were unhappy workin’ there because of the –’ he consulted his notebook – ‘difficult atmosphere between the Laird and Miss Maitland and was serving oot her month’s notice. Terrible thing, actually – her faither told me that the wee gurl had a stroke when she were eighteen, at nu
rsing college. Now, she suffers with somethin’ called Apraxia, so she mixes up the syllables in her words. She’s havin’ speech therapy but it’s takin’ a while for her speech tae come back. Which is why, ah’m guessin’, she didnae talk tae ye when ye were at the hoose.’
‘It doesn’t mean she didn’t start the fire,’ the Laird muttered.
‘Well, in fact, it does, sir,’ the Inspector continued. ‘Miss Shearing was so unhappy tae come tae work that she’d asked her faither tae accompany her tae the Manor on the night before the fire, tae keep her company on the night shift. So her pa was with her, and he swears she didnae set anything’ on fire.’
‘Poor thing.’ Tilda blushed. ‘I’m so sorry we thought so badly of her now.’
‘Not yer fault, Tilda,’ the Inspector reassured her.
‘What did the fire crew say?’ Temerity asked.
‘They weren’t able tae find anything particularly incriminatin’. They suggested it might’ve been an electrical fault. All they could really say was that the fire started in Lady Dalcairney’s bedroom.’ The Inspector closed his notebook.
All Temerity could think of was the poppet doll, burning in the flames. It had worked well enough for years, keeping Lady Dalcairney under control. Had she managed to finally achieve her goal and somehow set the fire herself? Or had something else been at work? Something more magical?
The poppet doll had burned in the shed along with Liz. Didn’t it then make some kind of sense, if only from a magical point of view, that Lady Dalcairney had ultimately died from being inside that burning building? She had died of smoke inhalation, but it had been the fire that did for her, just the same. Temerity knew that theory would never make it past the Inspector, never mind a trial, but she rather suspected she was right.
‘Then she started it, the mad old bitch,’ Anthony said angrily. ‘She burned down my home. My future.’
‘We may never know,’ the Inspector said, sadly. ‘However, I am arresting you, David Dalcairney, for the manslaughter of Elizabeth Maitland.’
The Inspector stood up and walked around to the Laird. He held out his hand and helped Dalcairney up from his seat.
‘Thank ye all for bein’ here. I suggest ye all go home and have a stiff drink,’ he said, nodding to them all. He guided the Laird out of the room, followed by Angus. ‘We’ll take it from here.’
‘Well, that was dramatic,’ Tilda said, getting up and shaking out her shoulders. ‘I need a dry sherry or a ginger wine at the very least. Maybe both.’
Anthony slumped in his seat, holding his head in his hands. Temerity could see he was crying. She sat down again next to him and motioned to Tilda, whose face crumpled with sympathy. Completely uncharacteristically – she usually eschewed physical contact with most people except Temerity and the cats – Tilda rubbed Anthony’s back in wide circles.
‘Ah, you poor thing. We’re here for you, okay?’ Tilda crooned and Temerity held out her hand for Anthony’s.
‘Come home with us. You don’t want to be alone tonight,’ she said, kindly. ‘We’ve got room as long as you don’t mind cats. And a parrot.’
‘I need a drink,’ Anthony mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face. Temerity squeezed his hand. She could feel his grief for Liz. She expected to feel his hatred for his father, but a wave of deep sadness washed over her instead. Her heart wrenched for him. Anthony Dalcairney was alone in the world now, except for a distant mother in another country.
Tilda seemed to read her mind.
‘Come on, everyone. Back to ours. I’ve got loads of food in. I’m going to make us all a feast and we can raid the drinks cabinet,’ she said bossily; Temerity knew that she wouldn’t accept no for an answer.
‘I’ll be in that,’ Alf said and put his arm around Anthony’s shoulders. ‘Anthony, lad. It’s good to see you again after all these years.’
Anthony stood up, wiping his eyes. He handed the hankie back to Temerity.
‘Sorry, it’s all rumpled,’ he said. His eyes were as large and sad as a puppy’s.
‘Keep it,’ she smiled.
‘How’s that old football injury?’ Alf guided Anthony out of the room; Temerity watched as all the black feathers that had been falling from the ceiling disappeared. She heaved a sigh of relief. It was over.
‘It’s fine now,’ Anthony replied. ‘All healed a long time ago.’
‘Ah, well. Time heals all wounds,’ Alf agreed as they walked out into the night. The mist had cleared and the stars twinkled in the darkness. The moon shone on the water, making it gleam.
‘I’d forgotten how beautiful Lost Maidens Loch is,’ Anthony Dalcairney said, as they headed back towards Love’s Curiosities, Inc.
‘Aye, it’s beautiful all right,’ Alf said. ‘It’s a strange place, but it knows who belongs here and who doesn’t. You belong here, lad. It was always your home.’
‘And it always will be.’ Temerity said, linking her arm in Anthony’s.
37
A week later, Temerity Love sat at her desk in Love’s Curiosities, Inc, holding an ornate dagger with both hands and her eyes closed. The dagger was an antique sgian-dubh, or skien-dhu, a small, single-edged knife worn as part of traditional Scottish Highland dress, most often tucked into the top of a sock. Originally used for eating and preparing fruit, meat and cutting bread and cheese, cutting material or even being pulled out in a fight, they were reasonably common. The contact who had got in touch with Temerity had been asked to identify the dagger, but was having difficulty finding its true provenance. Though it seemed to date from the seventeenth century, he couldn’t be sure which clan had owned it: there were no conventional markings.
Temerity was starting to go into a trance, getting ready to feel her way through the layers of history and back to something: a place, a date, a name, when the door opened and Angus Harley walked in. She put the dagger down on the desk, irritated. No one comes in for days and the moment I’m trying to concentrate… she thought.
‘Angus,’ she greeted him. ‘Do come in.’
‘Hullo, Temerity. Sorry to disturb you. Did the Inspector not say I was going to pop by?’ he asked, going back a few paces to the doormat and wiping his feet.
‘No. I was just in the middle of something, actually. How can I help?’ She smiled brightly. There was a slight artificiality in her expression that she hoped he noticed. Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to see into the past, she thought. No biggie.
‘Oh. Well, he said to bring this by. He thought you might want to look at it before we gave it back to Anthony.’ Angus walked over to the desk and laid Lady Dalcairney’s hand mirror on the desk. Temerity frowned and picked it up.
‘Why?’ she asked, immediately getting that same feeling touching it as she had before: it was unpleasant, but now she knew what lay behind its enchantment. Liz had, in her own mind, been protecting the son she had never had.
‘He just thought it was your type of thing. If you wanted to, you know, do your thing with it one last time.’
Temerity turned the mirror over in her hands.
‘No,’ she said, slowly. ‘I think I know enough. But there is something that should be done with this.’
She picked it up, took it into the kitchen and ran some water into the sink basin. She opened a cabinet and took out a box of sea salt and threw a handful into the water, swishing it around with her fingers until it was dissolved.
Carefully, she lowered the hand mirror into the white ceramic basin of water and washed it with her hands, stroking the surfaces carefully with her fingers. As she did so, she repeated something her mother had taught Tilda and Temerity when they were girls:
Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for him: fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass.
Cease from anger and forsake wrath: fret not thyself in any wise to do evil.
For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the Earth.
For yet a little while and the wicked shall not be: yea, thou shalt diligently consider his place and it shall not be.
But the meek shall inherit the earth; and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace.
‘What was that you were saying?’ Angus came up behind her and watched as she took the mirror out of the water.
‘An old psalm, or part of one,’ Temerity said, wiping the mirror carefully on her skirt. ‘It’s a traditional way of breaking curses. The salt will do most of it, but it never hurts to add something else in.’
‘Right. So this is no longer… magicked?’
Temerity smiled.
‘No longer magicked,’ she agreed and handed it back to him. ‘So. Trial date set yet?’
‘It will be soon. The Inspector’s waiting to hear. McKinley and the Laird are being kept in custody in Edinburgh. It’s bound to be a few months at least.’
Temerity shook her head.
‘What is it about Lost Maidens Loch, eh?’
‘There’s definitely something in the air, I’ll admit that,’ Angus said. ‘I think it’s possibly the strangest place I’ve ever been to.’
Temerity thought Angus was probably right about that.
‘It’s got some redeeming features, though, wouldn’t you say?’ she asked. Angus blushed and looked away.
