Does Your Mother Know? (8 page)

Read Does Your Mother Know? Online

Authors: Maureen Jennings

Tags: #FIC022000, #Mystery

The other woman had turned from her sea watch and she came forward with her hand outstretched.

“Hallo to you, Miss Morris. I’m Lisa MacKenzie. I worked for Mr. MacAulay.”

I was right about the piercings. She had a silver ring through her left eyebrow and several in each ear. She was older than I expected from her slim build and spiky hair, and was pale and drawn, but quite in control of herself.

“Can you tell me what happened?” I had no official right to ask her, of course, and I didn’t know how the other two would react, but I could tell she needed to unburden herself of the experience of finding a decaying corpse.

“I have a key.” She paused, and I caught the look that Coral-Lyn threw at her. So did Lisa, and her voice got an edge of defiance. “I am... that is, I was... employed by Mr. MacAulay. I do odd jobs, gardening, tidying, and so on.... Keep him company.”

“Do you live here?”

She looked a little discomfited.

“He was kind enough to let me have the use of the spare room. I’m a student in Skye, so it was easier for me to stay two or three days at a time. Mostly on the weekends.”

Suddenly, she stared at something over my shoulder and I guessed the ambulance men were bringing down MacAulay’s body. Andy and Coral-Lyn didn’t notice, since she was busy whispering comforting words into his ear.

I brought Lisa’s attention back to me. “How soon after you came into the house, did you go upstairs?”

“Not right away. There was a dreadful smell, and I thought something had been left in the rubbish bin and gone rotten. I went into the kitchen to look, but the bin was empty. I threw open some of the windows.” She bit her lip. “I realized the house was unnaturally
quiet. Tormod always played his radio or sometimes the television, but I couldn’t hear anything. I called out to him a few times, but of course there was no answer.”

She paused and I could see her remembering what happened next. I nodded sympathetically.

“I went up to the bedroom.”

Andy and his fiancée were both listening now.

“As soon as I opened the door and saw him on the bed, I knew he was dead. I ran back downstairs and telephoned Dr. MacBeth. Tormod’s been ill for a little while, you see, and Dr. MacBeth was his doctor.”

“What did you do after that?”

“I telephoned Andy on his mobile phone and asked him to come at once.”

“We were still at the airport,” said Coral-Lyn. “We knew something was dreadfully wrong and we got here as fast as we could. By the time we arrived, Constable Fraser was here.”

“Dr. MacBeth told me to telephone the police,” interrupted Lisa. She was anxious to show Coral-Lyn she had done all the right things, but I could sense the antagonism between them.

“Did you go upstairs?” I asked Andy, wanting to get an answer out of him that wasn’t monitored by his fiancée.

He shook his head. “The constable confirmed that Granda was dead and recommended we come outside and wait until Dr. MacBeth arrived. Coral-Lyn was feeling quite sick because of the ... because of the odour.”

“I’m very smell-sensitive,” interjected Coral-Lyn as if it were a mark of virtue. She got the conversation back from Andy.

“We were completely devastated, of course. I mean, we knew he wasn’t in the best of health, but when Andy saw him last, which was Thursday afternoon, he was quite well, wasn’t he, Honey?”

“Oh yes.”

She touched Andy’s head. “He’s so upset because he usually comes to visit Granda on Fridays, but he had a meeting that kept him late at the church, so he couldn’t come. He thinks that, if he
had been here, he might have been able to do something. Isn’t that right, Honey?”

Andy nodded.

I gave that a respectful beat, then asked, “Did he say anything about expecting visitors the following day?”

“No, not at all.”

Andy blinked, averted his eyes, and touched his finger to the bridge of his nose. Coral-Lyn kept her eyes fixed on me. “Why do you ask?”

“The nearest neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. MacLean, said they saw a car coming from the direction of the house on Friday night.”

The door to the patio opened and Gillies came out.

“Your granddad has been moved to Stornoway, Andy.”

Coral-Lyn jumped up. “We’d better get going then. We have a lot of arrangements to make. Come on, Darling. I’ll drive us.”

Andy got to his feet and she took his hand. He let himself be led out like a small boy.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Lisa said, “I don’t know about you both, but I could stand a strong cup of tea. Shall I mash some, Gill?”

“Please.”

“How about a drop of malt in it?”

“Great. We could do with it.”

Actually, he looked fine, but I sat down on the iron bench, aware once again of his tact.

“I’ll be back in a tick,” said Lisa. She seemed revived at having something to do, and also, I guessed, because Andy and Coral-Lyn had left. It was my turn now to stare towards the grey sea.

If you ask me, she’s at the bottom of the Atlantic.

I couldn’t absorb the notion that my mother, after surviving all the years of turbulence and heavy drinking, might have died in a car accident.

Unexpectedly, a patch of blue sky had appeared overhead, and the capricious sun shone apologetically into the patio. In each corner was a large cement flowerpot, filled with yellow daisies and trailing ivy. Lisa’s job, I assumed. I yawned, suddenly feeling very
sleepy. I could hear a bee buzzing near my leg, but it wasn’t interested in me, only its hunt for nectar. I was sorely tempted to swing my legs around, stretch out on the bench, and fall into blissful unconsciousness. I glanced over at Gillies, who was watching me.

“You’re exhausted. As soon as we’ve downed the tea, I’ll drive you to the hotel. There’s not a lot more you can do here.”

“Isn’t there? I feel as if I should be doing something, though.”

“This isn’t exactly your case, Christine. We’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise.”

I liked the way he said my name, and his tone was kind, not the least dismissive. I leaned back against the hard iron bench and closed my eyes. The sun was so soft and warm. I felt as if my face was being caressed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

In fact, the tea, which was very strong, British-style, woke me up. Lisa had added the whisky directly to the tea, which was probably a sacrilege, but it certainly gave it a nice kick. By the time I had downed the first cup, I was awake and raring to go. Lisa had disappeared while we had the tea, saying she needed to do some heavy work out in the front flower bed. Gillies didn’t say much, once again taking his cue from me, which I appreciated. I just muttered banalities about the strength of the brew, the prettiness of the garden, the effect of the whisky.

“Do you want some more?” he asked, reaching for the teapot, which was underneath an embroidered tea cosy.

“No, thanks. That’ll do me for the next week, I think.”

He grinned. “If you stay with us for a wee while, your kidneys will get stronger.”

“Or be wiped out completely.”

“Aye, that too.”

“I don’t want to tread on any toes, or be intrusive, but I wonder if I could talk to Lisa.”

“What do you mean,
talk
?”

“Talk the way I would with any witness to a... sudden death. There’s a procedure we follow.”

“I can’t imagine any reason why not, if it’s what you want to
do. Frankly, I’d be interested to see you in action.”

“Hey, come on. It’s not anything you wouldn’t do.”

“Let’s see then.”

He got up and walked to the edge of the patio, leaned around the wall, and called, “Lisa.
Thig an-seo, tapadh leat.

I heard her call a response, also in Gaelic.

Gillies came back and sat down, and in a moment Lisa appeared, wiping her hands on the linen gardening apron she was wearing. There was a strong whiff of smoke around her, and I gathered she had been pulling on more than one kind of weed.

“You rang, Sir?”

“Miss Morris wants to ask you some questions. Is that all right by you?”

She shrugged. “Of course.” She turned to me. “What do you want to know?”

The question was put politely enough, but she was wary, as if she were emotionally shifting to the balls of her feet like a boxer ready to handle whatever came his way. I didn’t know why and didn’t particularly care. Probably to do with the companion thing. She seemed young to be shacking up with a sick old man, but that wasn’t any concern of mine. At least not at the moment.

“You heard me mention to Andy and his fiancée that Mr. and Mrs. MacLean apparently saw a car leaving the house on Friday night. Do you have any idea who that might have been?”

“No. Why do you ask?” she echoed Coral-Lyn’s words. Gillies helped me out. “It’d be interesting to talk to whoever it was came here, see how Tormod was.”

She frowned. “I don’t know what you’re getting at. He was ill. Dr. MacBeth told him weeks ago there was a danger of him hemorrhaging.”

“We’re not really getting at anything, Lisa. You know how it is with police officers. We don’t like unanswered questions, no matter what the case is.”

She studied his face for a moment. “So you say, but there’s something on your mind, I can tell. What the hell is it?”

Gillies looked over to me. “Your call, Christine.”

Lisa hadn’t sat down and she was between me and the sun. I shaded my eyes so I could see her better. She returned my gaze, her eyes a bit anxious but not abnormally so.

“The MacLeans said the car was a small red Vauxhall. There was a car accident not too far from here, which involved such a car. A rental. A woman was killed and the other woman... The other woman is somebody I know. We’re trying to locate her.”

“My God. Who was it, Gill? Tourists?”

“The woman who was killed was Sarah MacDonald.”

“Sarah! What the hell happened?”

“The car went off the road at the Dail Beag turn. She was thrown out.”

“Well, I regret to say I’m not surprised. Sarah’s been in at least two accidents that I know of because she was inebriated. I’m amazed she still had her driver’s licence. But still... the poor woman. Have you contacted Janice?”

“Yes, we tracked her down. She’s on holiday in Tenerife, but she’s getting here as soon as she can. Janice is Mrs. MacDonald’s only daughter,” he explained to me.

Lisa stared at me. “You said the other woman was somebody you knew.”

“Yes, she lives in Canada. She was a visitor here.”

“But she didn’t die?”

“We actually don’t know for certain. There was no sign of a second body at the crash site, and she seems to have disappeared.”

“What does this have to do with Tormod?”

“Probably nothing, except that it would seem that their car was here on Friday night. Did he mention to you that Mrs. MacDonald was coming over? Or any other visitor?”

“No, he didn’t. And I’m surprised she was here. She’s an estate agent, and they had a tiff because he didn’t list his house with her. Not at big thing, but she seemed to feel he owed her.”

“I didn’t know he was selling his house,” said Gillies.

“Everybody wanted it kept quiet. You know how sensitive the crofters are about property changing hands, especially to incomers. In this case though, they’ll probably be happy about it. Coral-Lyn’s
father has bought this place, and they’re going to build a quote, religious centre, unquote here. Apparently, the intention is for it to be quite grand.” She smiled a little. “At least as grand as you’ll get with the wee kirk.”

“I hadn’t heard a word. When did all this happen?”

“Not more than a week ago. Tormod was going to rent a flat in Stornoway and move at the end of June. He didn’t really want to leave this place, mind, but given his state of health, it seemed wise for him to be in town.”

Abruptly, she flopped down into the other chair and ran her hand through her hair so that it spiked up even more. “I’m really sorry to hear about Sarah. She was a nice woman, especially when she was sober.”

“Given what you’ve said then, it might have been a business matter that brought her out here?” I asked.

“Tormod didn’t mention it.”

“Would he have? Mentioned it, I mean?”

She bristled at my question. “What you’re asking is did we have the kind of relationship where he’d share those things with me or was I just the gamekeeper?”

“I’m not asking if you were sleeping with him.” I can play ‘guess the literary reference’ as well as the next English major. “My question was without subtext.”

I must have passed a test of some sort, because she softened. “I told you I was his paid companion. Exactly that. No more and no less. I kept him company. He was lonely a lot of the time. He didn’t make friends easily. He was divorced a long time ago, and his ex-wife lives in New Zealand with their daughter. His son, Andy’s dad, died in 1999, and Andy was his only grandson. Since Miss Coral-Lyn came on the scene, he hasn’t been around that much.”

“As you were his companion then, he would share his day-today life with you. Who came over while you were away, that sort of thing.”

“Yes. Exactly that sort of thing. Daily minutiae. But I haven’t been here for two weeks, because I had exams and my nose was in my books.”

“When did you last talk to him yourself?”

“Last Sunday. I rang him up. He didn’t say anything then.” Again she gave me a shrewd glance. “Is this missing woman in trouble with the law?”

“I’m not here officially if that’s what you mean. However, she has apparently left the scene of an accident, which is an offence.”

There was a silence. Gillies raised his eyebrows at me. I stood up, a bit stiff in the hips from the hard bench.

“Lisa, I’d like you to do something for me. You don’t have to. As I said, I have no official role here whatsoever, but it would satisfy my curiosity.”

She cocked her head slightly. “What?”

“I’d like to walk through the house with you, and I want you to look around as carefully as you can and tell me if there is anything at all that seems out of place. It doesn’t matter how unimportant it might seem, just anything that isn’t where you’d expect it to be, or on the other hand anything that is missing.”

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