Chapter 8
EIGHT
Her guests had returned when Ally got home.
She could hear them talking in the newly cleaned sitting room as she walked into her pristine kitchen.
It didn’t appear as if Morag had taken the painting down from the wall, but you never knew.
She’d done it once before and been so incensed to see her sons there as suspects that she’d given in her notice.
Fortunately, Morag needed the job as much as Ally needed a cleaner, and so it had been resolved amicably.
Ross phoned to say he wouldn’t be able to come up to the malthouse tonight because he’d got guests coming to one of his cottages and, furthermore, the boiler still wasn’t connected.
Ally decided she’d have an early night.
Ally had never seen Morag so angry as when she arrived after an uneventful weekend at the malthouse on Monday morning.
‘They’re questioning our Bobby again!’ she ranted. ‘Just cos he said somethin’ a bit silly!’
‘What did he say that was silly?’ Ally asked, only too aware that a great deal of what Bobby said was silly.
‘Well, after he’d thrown his caber, he went into that hospitality tent for a quick pint with a couple of his mates, but he came out before they did because he wanted to see that Canadian doin’ his tossin’.
So they’re treatin’ him like he’s a suspect anyway, and then he goes and tells them that he won a rifle-shootin’ contest a year or two back. ’
‘Why would he tell them that?’ Ally asked.
Morag sighed. ‘I know, I know, he shouldn’t’ve done. He was only havin’ a wee boast!’
‘No wonder he’s a suspect,’ Ally said. ‘I hope Micky didn’t win any shooting contests?’
Morag looked uncomfortable. ‘No, but he always went out on the stag-huntin’, and he’s known to be a good shot. I mean it was Angus who trained him, for goodness’ sake!’
‘I thought your two were together at the time of the shooting?’ Ally asked, slightly puzzled.
‘Och no. Micky was with his missus, and they was watchin’ the dancin’. Then, after he’d done his caber tossin’, Micky goes off for a wee beer, then he nipped to the toilet, but he came straight back to watch that Canadian.’ Morag pursed her lips in disapproval.
Another one in the toilets! Ally thought.
These loos were certainly well patronised.
And as the killer had to have been in the elevated position above and beyond the toilets, how come nobody saw him or her?
Surely someone would have seen somebody up there or even glimpsed the metallic glint of a rifle in the bright sunshine, even through the trees?
By later in the day, it had clouded over, and the Armstrongs opted to remain in the sitting room. They had commented at breakfast time about how much they’d all enjoyed their walk to Loch Soular and how, out there surrounded by nature, they’d all felt closer to Archie.
Even Wendy looked more cheerful.
After Morag had gone home, Ally loaded the washing machine and then decided the time had come to pay a visit to Finlay McKinnon’s shop, known locally as Fin’s Fish.
Because of the similarity of their names and Queenie’s bad eyesight, Ally frequently got Finlay’s mail, and often wondered if he got any of hers, although he always denied it.
Finlay was a small, wiry man with a weather-beaten face and a full head of curly white hair.
Every morning early, he went out on his boat with his son, Forby, and generally came back with a good haul, most of which he sold throughout the day.
You could count on Fin’s fish being very fresh indeed.
In the summer months, they’d have sold everything by early afternoon and they’d shut up shop to take the tourists out for fishing trips on the sea loch.
Ally normally bought all her fish and seafood from Finlay, but today she was particularly interested in having a chat with Forby.
It was quite a distance from the village, beyond Ross’s place, so Ally decided to take her car. She hoped it would be Forby selling in their big hut, but today it was Fin himself behind the wooden counter.
‘Nice day, Mrs McKinley!’ he greeted her. ‘You must have known I’ve got some lovely sea trout!’
‘Wow!’ Ally exclaimed as he lifted a large trout carefully from his tray of ice. ‘How much is that?’
‘Special price for you!’ he said, which is what he said to everyone. ‘Like me to gut it for you?’
The price was reasonable, and Ally couldn’t resist his offer to gut and clean the trout for her. It was a task she didn’t relish doing. ‘Oh, yes, please!’
As Fin took the fish behind to a bench at the rear, he yelled out, ‘Forby! Can you hold the fort for a few minutes?’
Forby emerged from somewhere outside, rolling up his sleeves as he got behind the counter. He was taller but sturdily built like his father, with a crop of black curly hair and nice brown eyes.
‘Oh, hello, Mrs McKinley!’ he greeted her as he pulled a striped apron over his head.
‘Hi, Forby!’ Ally was determined now to get off the subject of fish and onto the subject of the Locharran Games. ‘Have you recovered from the games yet?’
Forby rolled his eyes. ‘I keep trying to forget it, but the bloody police – excuse my language – keep coming back and asking the same old questions.’
‘That’s what they do,’ Ally agreed.
‘I keep telling them that none of us wanted that Armstrong to be there, but we’re not sodding killers for goodness’ sake!’ Forby shook his head. ‘It’s only a sport, isn’t it?’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Ally said, wondering where he’d been standing when the shot was fired. ‘I guess you were probably standing with the McConnachies?’
Forby shook his head. ‘No, I was trying to edge my way out of the crowd. The caber was the last event I was involved in, and I knew damn well that Armstrong was going to win. I kept watching him, so I stopped at what the police now call the north-western edge of the field, where I’d left my motorbike.
I could see the action from there, but I’d have had to be a bloody contortionist – excuse my language – to shoot the man from that position! ’
‘Surely the police realise that?’ Ally asked.
‘I hope they do. But no one was looking at me, and so I’ve no proof of where I was.’ He sighed loudly. ‘Surely somebody somewhere must have taken some photos, mustn’t they?’
‘Of course they must have done,’ Ally agreed. ‘Most people have phones these days and would be snapping away.’
‘Yeah, but they’d all be concentrating on filming Armstrong.’
Several customers had now come into the hut, and Forby said, ‘Excuse me,’ and went to serve them.
In the meantime, Fin had re-emerged with the gutted and cleaned trout. ‘You’re going to enjoy this,’ he prophesised as he wrapped it up in some newspaper and popped it into a bag.
As she got back into her car, Ally knew that she and Ross would indeed enjoy a trout supper, probably tomorrow evening.
She also reckoned, for no good reason, that Forby McKinnon was telling the truth.
After she put the trout in the fridge and unloaded the washing machine, Ally went outside to hang the washing out, and that was when she heard the raised voices – one male and one female, in the front garden.
She couldn’t quite make out, from here at the back, exactly who it was and what they were saying.
Ally laid down a pillowcase she was about to hang up and made her way stealthily round the outside of the house to the wall which divided the utility area from the garden.
‘Archie was right!’ Patti was shouting. ‘You shouldn’t have come with us on this trip!’
‘Bloody right!’ Greg shouted back. ‘And if it wasn’t that Wendy wanted to see where her parents were born, I would not be here! I’d be back home trying to save the business that your husband was in the process of wrecking!’
‘You’ve always been jealous of him – that’s your trouble,’ Patti continued, then lowered her voice. ‘Anyway, shut up because I can hear the girls coming.’
‘Hi!’ one of them called out. ‘Why were you shouting, Mom? Just wondered if the dog was here?’
Ally looked to where Flora was rolling on the grass as she tiptoed back to the washing line. These poor girls need some sort of diversion, she thought.
‘Come on, Flora! Time to play ball!’
Back in the kitchen, she could hear Greg stomping up the stairs, going into his bedroom and slamming the door, followed shortly afterwards by Patti, heading to the sitting room and closing the door firmly.
Where did that leave poor Wendy? Ally wondered as she let Flora out into the front garden, much to the delight of the girls.
‘Can we take Flora for a walk, please?’ Janey asked.
‘You are more than welcome to take Flora for a walk,’ Ally said, dreaming of sitting down with a restorative cup of tea on her own in the kitchen.
No sooner had she got the kettle on when there was a timid knock on the door, and there stood Wendy looking somewhat worried.
‘I’m so sorry to bother you,’ she said apologetically, ‘but I wondered if it would be OK if I read my book in the dining room?’
‘Well, of course you can,’ Ally said, feeling sorry for the woman.
‘I’d sit in the garden, but it’s clouded over, and it’s not too warm,’ Wendy said, ‘and Greg and Patti have had a bit of a row, so I’d like to keep out of their way for a bit.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘I don’t mind at all,’ Ally confirmed, thinking that this might be a very good opportunity to get more information. ‘In fact, I was just going to make myself a cup of tea, so why don’t you join me?’
Wendy hesitated for a moment. ‘Well, if I’m not keeping you back…’
‘You are not keeping me back,’ Ally said firmly. ‘I’d enjoy some company.’ Which wasn’t strictly true, but the opportunity to have a chat with this woman was too good to pass up.
She led Wendy into the kitchen and insisted she sat down in one of the armchairs positioned by the wood burner, which she’d lit earlier when she’d come back with the fish.
‘We’ve got a stove similar to this back home,’ Wendy said.
‘It’s particularly cosy in the winter,’ Ally said. ‘Now, how do you like your tea?’
‘Black with two sugars, please.’
‘Similar to myself,’ Ally said.
‘Have you lived here long?’ Wendy asked.
‘Coming up to three years,’ Ally replied as she gathered the tea things and got out the biscuit tin, then went on to explain about converting the malthouse and trying to convince her family that she hadn’t gone completely gaga.
She wondered how to turn the conversation round to Wendy’s family.
‘I imagine this must be a very tense time for you all,’ she said. ‘It must be horrible.’
Wendy nodded as she accepted her cup of tea and took a chunk of shortbread. ‘It is,’ she confirmed.
Ally could see that her eyes were full of tears and began to wonder if she should have said anything at all.
Wendy wiped her eyes. ‘Archie was my baby brother, and he was a good guy. And a good businessman. A real good guy,’ she repeated.
‘I’m sure he was,’ Ally said.
‘But he could be difficult, no denying that, when it comes to business. And, of course, he and Patti weren’t all that well suited,’ Wendy continued, frowning slightly. ‘They were always rowing, but they kinda thrived on it – know what I mean?’
‘Some couples do,’ Ally agreed.
‘Whereas me and Greg, we just jog along, you know?’
‘Yes, my marriage was like that,’ Ally said.
‘Archie and Greg went into business together about five years ago,’ Wendy continued, sipping her tea, ‘but it’s not worked out that well.’
‘What went wrong?’ Ally asked.
Wendy sighed loudly. ‘Personality clash, I guess. Both good guys but not together.’
‘Oh dear,’ Ally said, hoping Wendy would tell her more.
Wendy sighed again. ‘Archie was the senior partner, you see, because he’d inherited the business from our father.
Our dad had set up the premises shortly after he emigrated from Mallaig.
But Greg worked really hard, and he had so many ideas for increasing our output.
And he always resented the fact that Archie inherited all the business, when half of it should have come to me, in his opinion, when Dad died.
But I was never bothered. After all, Archie worked in the business and I never did.
I think Archie might have thought Greg was trying to take over.
’ She gazed at the glow of the fire. ‘Greg can be quite forceful but’ – here she looked Ally straight in the eye – ‘he did not kill my brother!’
‘Of course not!’ Ally agreed, looking at her fruity picture on the wall, still glad that she’d kept Greg at three o’clock. ‘Do you have children?’
‘Yes, we have a son. He’s working in construction at the moment, but Greg and I were both keen to bring him into the business – another bone of contention.
But I guess Greg can do that now. Joel would be a great asset to the company, but Archie was always hesitant about him.
It’s damned difficult when it’s your own brother, and your own husband and your own son!
Thing is, I suppose I’ve come to agree with Greg over the years because he had so many good ideas for expanding the business. But… there we are!’ She sighed.
‘I’m sure it must be tricky. So when did your brother begin competing?’ Ally asked, by way of diversion.
‘I guess he’d have been around sixteen,’ Wendy replied.
‘We had a lot of Scottish traditions, and he was very keen on bodybuilding and all that kind of thing. Then he began winning competitions all across Canada – because there’s lots of folk with Scottish ancestry in Canada, you know.
Anyway, he became the Canadian champion about three years ago and then thought he should try his luck back here where it all began.
He’s been over a couple of times and won all the prizes here too. ’
‘More tea?’
Wendy shook her head. ‘I’d best go upstairs in a minute. Greg will have calmed down by now, and he’ll be wondering where I’ve got to. This is my first visit to Scotland, and I’m loving it, but know what?’
Ally shook her head.
‘We should have come on our own, Greg and me. It was never going to work out well with Archie and Patti.’
With that, she got to her feet, thanked Ally profusely and headed towards the stairs, leaving Ally to muse quietly in the kitchen on everything she’d just heard, and wonder if anything Wendy had just told her would be relevant to her investigation.