Gently with Love (21 page)

‘Just a minute, sir.’

Another delay while the call was switched to CID. Then a second curt voice. I repeated my enquiry.

‘What information do you require, sir?’

‘The name of the fisherman and his present whereabouts.’

‘Hold on a minute, sir. I’ll get you the officer who handled the case.’

The third voice was less curt, but I had to explain myself again.

‘Yes, sir. I remember the case well. The chummie’s name was Collins.’

And that was it. I leaned hard against the box, listening to the distant voice babbling on. But it was unimportant, mere decoration, the case was solved from that moment. Yet the details were all I could have wished.

‘It was rather a sad business, sir. There’s no doubt that Collins was provoked, but he got six months just the same. A bit of an example, sir. We’d been going through a bad patch for violence.’

‘Did his girl stand by him?’

‘No, sir. She took off to London with Fortuny.’

‘What happened when Collins got out?’

‘Well, he was upset, sir, as you can imagine. And he had it rough from his old man, who’s a strict chapel-goer, a Plymouth Brethren. And of course, he couldn’t get a job. None of the skippers wanted to know him.’

‘So what did he do?’

‘He signed on a coaster. But that was over a year ago.’

‘Going north?’

‘I couldn’t say, sir. I’ll make inquiries, if you wish.’

But it wasn’t necessary. I could track him now, that fair-headed youth with his load of trouble. North to the Tyne, perhaps to Leith, but onwards again till he berthed at Wick. And at Wick there were Scottish skippers who knew nothing of his record and perhaps cared less: and one, the
Kylie Rose
, from the far north-west, as far from Lowestoft as a man might go. He had gone with Iain, he had been accepted, the Mackenzies had taken him under their wing. And like a Mackenzie, he had been protected both from Sinclair and from myself.

‘Sir, is Collins in trouble?’

‘I’m afraid he is.’

‘Will you want us to contact his parents?’

‘Just leave it for the moment. I’ll ring you back when I have something definite.’

I hung up; but I hesitated before putting through my next call, to Sinclair. My mind was busy dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s of this strange affair. It would have begun with James Mackenzie’s phone call to Iain, at Ullapool, on the Tuesday, informing Iain of Fortuny’s harassment of Anne and no doubt of his impudent flirtation with Beattie. I thought it unlikely that Fortuny’s name had been mentioned to Collins at that time, but he might well have been teased about an English guest who was making eyes at Robert’s daughter. The boat docked. The steering fault was genuine. Ian had detained Collins to help him strip the gear. When James rang the quay his news amused Iain, but he did not let it interrupt the job in hand. He did, however, tell it to Collins, and at some point Fortuny’s name was dropped. I could imagine the young man staring aghast and the colour fading from his cheeks.

‘What was that name?’

‘Fortuny. What’s the matter, you daft loon?’

‘He was the bastard who pinched my girl and got me six months in Norwich jail!’

‘Ach, now, you cannot know that!’

‘I’m going up to the rocks to see.’

‘Man, be reasonable. We have this job on.’

‘If it’s the same man I’m going to smash him!’

Like someone crazed he rushed up the ladder, jumped ashore and began running. Iain, after some choice Gaelic oaths, took alarm and went up after him. He was too late. When he came through the cleft he saw Collins kneeling over the still body. Blood was welling from Fortuny’s back and the bloody knife was in Collins’s hand.

‘Ach, you crazy lunatic – what have you done?’

‘I’ve given the bastard what he deserved!’

‘You’ve killed him, you mad fool!’

‘I’ve killed him, and I’d do it again!’

Iain was appalled, but he was a man of action. Collins had to be saved from his folly. He grabbed the knife and ran to hurl it over the cliff.

‘Now give me a hand to drag him up there!’

Together they hauled the body to the parapet. Struggling, they got it on to the low wall and pitched it off into space. But it struck the rock – and stuck.

‘Ach, the devil! We’ve done it now!’

There was no getting at the body again, except with help and climbing equipment.

‘Come away – let’s up to Robbie’s. We will have to put together a tale. The police will never look in your direction – they will be too busy with Anne’s young man.’

And so they arrived panting at the hotel to devise a simple, unshakable story; after which the crew were despatched to recover the body – and Iain phoned the police.

That was how it had gone; that was the reason why Iain had insisted he had stayed on alone; why he had made a bid to attract my suspicion when I began to be interested in Beattie and the House of Reay. Well, he would have his own explaining to do, depending upon how much Collins talked. If I was right, Iain Mackenzie might yet share the dock with his mechanic. I couldn’t help that; my duty was to Earle. The Mackenzies must shift as best they could. They had indulged in the luxury of reckless loyalty and now they must pay the bill.

I
DID NOT
return to the Mackenzie house and I discussed the development only with Robertson. It made no difference. There were more people on the quay when the trawler returned than when it sailed. I think most of Kylie turned up, even those from the crofts and farms, as though some obscure clan instinct warned them of a crisis in the affairs of the Mackenzies. The afternoon was fine as the morning had been and the sun was hot on the quay. If it had not been for the silent watchfulness of those assembled you might well have taken the occasion for some fete. But the quietness belied it: the quietness was ominous. I found myself wondering if we were in for trouble.

Sinclair had been in touch with the coastguards, who had relayed his message to the
Kylie Rose
. He had ordered Iain to put Collins under arrest and to return to port immediately. Presumably Iain was obeying. It would have been over two hours after he had sailed when he received the message, and on this calculation, with allowance for other factors, he should be arriving back at Kylie at half-past four. Sinclair had a man posted as lookout above while we waited in two cars on the quay; he had brought two other men with him, and the district constable: it passed for a show of force, in Kylie. We, too, were silent. How to handle this business must have been absorbing all Sinclair’s thoughts. I saw him giving uncertain little glances towards the Mackenzie house, where James and the other inmates were watching from the garden. James had a mighty brass-bound telescope which he shot open with a snap that was audible on the quay; every five minutes he pointed it down the channel, then snapped it shut again with the same impatient motion. His wife and Iain’s wife were standing by him. Verna, with Alex and Anne, stood nearer to the house. As time wore on I noticed Verna jiffling and eventually she sent Alex to fetch her a chair. Sinclair glanced at his watch.

‘The boat is overdue.’

It was only a quarter to five.

‘Won’t the tide still be running?’

‘Aye. But he could put steam on if he wanted to.’

‘He may have had his nets out.’

‘It is not likely. There is better trawling outside the Minch. I shall be getting in touch with the Protection Vessel if he does not show himself by five.’

But we had little longer to wait. At his next observation, James Mackenzie held his pose for some moments. Then he snapped the telescope shut for the last time and went to lay it in the house. Shortly afterwards our lookout hurried down.

‘A trawler has just turned the point, sir.’

‘Coming from southwards?’

‘Aye, sir.’

Sinclair looked grim. ‘It is as well to know that.’

We got out of the car and went to stand at the mooring; a murmur rose from the gathering about us. James Mackenzie and Alex left the house to come down, leaving the womenfolk in the garden.

‘Here she comes now, sir.’

She was closer than I had expected. She came motoring out from behind an island. Her crew were ranged along the rails aft and Iain stood alone in the wheelhouse. She turned away from us, skirting the large island, then bore to starboard in a slow semicircle. Her speed fell off. She came drifting in to a precise landfall with cut engines. Sinclair was counting heads.

‘Ach, eight of them! What have they done with our laddie?’

Unless he was secured below the fair-headed mechanic clearly was missing. The boat inched into its berth and there were ready hands to catch its warps. Iain came stiffly out of the wheelhouse. Sinclair jumped aboard to confront him.

‘Where’s Collins?’

Iain stared at the policeman. His strangely naked face was solemn. He humped his broad shoulders and made a gesture with the maimed hand. ‘Lost him.’

‘You what!’

‘Lost him.’

Sinclair’s dour face flushed with anger. ‘You have touched at the Butt, you devil – you have put him ashore in Lewis!’

Silently Iain pointed to the mast; a blue house-flag was trailing from below the hounds. ‘We lost him. He tried to swim for it. The current of the Roast sucked him under.’

Sinclair’s mouth fell open and a murmurous sigh left the crowd. They had drawn closer, but now they parted respectfully to allow James Mackenzie to come striding through. He stepped on to the vessel.

‘What’s this, Iain?’

‘Ach, the laddie did for himself.’

‘What way?’

‘He jumped overside as we were passing Skoma Head.’

‘Ach! Into the Roast?’

‘Aye. And the tide with two hours to run.’

‘Ach, the poor soul!’

‘He was gone before I could bring the boat back to him.’

They stood gazing concern at each other, while the crew looked on with glum faces. Sinclair’s mouth closed again. He looked from one Mackenzie to another. I could see his hands working.

‘Let’s get this straight! Are you saying that Collins committed suicide?’

Iain shook his head sadly. ‘I could not say that. I am thinking he was making a break for shore. We passed close in at Skoma, it might be two hundred yards or less. There is a bit of beach among the rocks. I would say that he had his eye on that.’

‘And you let him jump?’

‘I could not stop him. I had him by me in the wheelhouse. He kent fine he was under arrest and what for I was taking him back. He was sitting quietly in the corner and giving no offence at all. Then, when the boat began lumping in the Roast, he was past me in a flash and over the side.’

‘Didn’t you throw him a lifebelt?’

‘Aye.’ Iain indicated one that lay on the deck. It looked dry, but when Sinclair caught it up a wet ring was left on the planks. ‘I cast it in, but he would not take it. He was swimming away towards the Head. I bawled the crew out to keep their eyes on him. Ach, he was sucked under in a minute.’

‘You bawled the crew out – were they not on deck?’

‘They were below when we entered the Roast.’

‘It was just you who saw him jump?’

‘I ken the others saw him struggling in the water.’

Sinclair flashed a fierce glare at the others. A tall, lean, bearded man stepped forward.

‘I saw the poor laddie in the water. It was just in the way Cousin Iain has told you.’

‘Couldn’t one of you have gone in for him?’

‘Ach, ach, such a thing would have been madness. It was clean in the eddy of the Roast, you ken. It will suck down boats, let alone men.’

‘Aye, he was dead when he jumped,’ Iain said. ‘The lifebelt and all would scarcely have saved him. I ken the poor laddie had once been in prison and he was over-desperate not to go back there.’

‘Then he talked?’

Iain bowed his head. ‘He let out a few words in the wheelhouse. It was he who did for Fortuny, and from what he said he had good reason. But no doubt you ken more of that than I do.’

Sinclair’s fists were squeezing tight. ‘I mind you said in your statement that he did not bide below with you.’

‘Ach, so it was. He went off with the others. I have been puzzling over that ever since he confessed.’

‘And doubtless you have an answer.’

Iain’s shoulders swayed. ‘I am just a simple fisherman, you ken. I would not set my opinion against the likes of yourself, or this grand gentleman from Scotland Yard. But I have a notion. I think that Collins spotted Fortuny when Fortuny was setting out from the hotel. So then he followed him, you ken, and did a quick job, and was back at the bar before he was missed.’

‘Ach, Iain, you’ve hit it!’ James Mackenzie exclaimed. ‘That must be the very way it happened. A man may step out of the bar for a moment, and who is likely to take note of that?’

The tall, lean cousin cleared his throat. ‘Now you have brought it to mind, I do recall it. I looked round to speak a word to the laddie, and he was just coming in by the toilet door.’

‘Aye, and pale he would be looking,’ James Mackenzie said.

‘He was, though I paid no attention at the time. The lads had been chasing their whisky with beer, and that is inclined to unsettle a man’s stomach.’

I felt a stab of sympathy for the baffled Sinclair. I took a step closer to the moored vessel. ‘Wouldn’t you agree—’ I stared hard at Iain – ‘that Collins would have needed help to get rid of the body?’

Iain hesitated very, very briefly, then gravely he shook his head. ‘I cannot well say that I agree, when I am aware that Collins was such a strong laddie. He was not big, but he was full of porridge. He could wrestle any man of the crew. I was thinking they will tell you he was well able to lug up a dead body, and roll it over a bit wall.’

‘And if he was so strong would he have drowned so easily?’

‘Ach, there is the shock of hitting the water, you ken. It is a factor that may drown the strongest swimmer, let alone such a current as Skoma Roast.’

I was at a play now, and I knew it. The reality had gone subtly out of that scene. The pathetic flag, the solemn faces, they were a production that had lost its conviction. I knew it, but Sinclair didn’t; Sinclair was still persuaded that he was dealing with the real. I wanted to tip him the wink, but I couldn’t. As long as he believed, the play would go on.