Chapter Nine Blooming Gloom
Isla
The rain outside was a steady, soothing patter, a relentless drumbeat that filled the air with a calming melody. The sky outside was a deep, foreboding grey, casting a gloomy shadow over the entire scene.
Inside the bindery room, the atmosphere was cozy and intimate.
The rain outside created a sense of isolation, as if Isla and Finlay were the only two people in the world.
The soft glow of the lamps cast a warm, golden light over the room, illuminating the rows of dusty bookshelves and Isla’s worktable.
Isla pressed the sticky yellow note with Callum’s name on the crazy wall. Shakespeare was nibbling on his toy by the locked door at the back of the bindery room. Finlay walked toward the door with a pen in one hand. He stared warily at the door.
Shakespeare pawed at Finlay’s boots. He trotted away, taking his toy to the corner to play with. Isla chuckled at his behaviour. “What is it?” she asked, standing beside Finlay.
“This door… where does it lead to?”
Isla laughed, folding her arms across her chest. She reminisced about stories her late father had told her about the locked door.
“My dad used to call it a magic door. It could take you anywhere in town, but it’s only a fairytale.
It’s filled with old printing machines.” She walked back to the crazy wall they had created.
“Then, when Gran was a kid, her grandparents used to print books, but subsequently, that part of the business declined.” She turned to see Finlay still staring at the door.
“We do print invitations and cards. In fact, Eryn made the last birthday cards for Mr. Alistair.” She paused. “Finlay?”
He whipped around, marching toward her. “Yes?”
“You zoned out?” Isla chuckled. She tapped a pen to the crazy wall. It had names scrawled into yellow and pink papers. Beatrice, Callum, Angus, unknown sister, and unknown husband. Then, there was a picture of Angus and his sister on the wall.
Finlay reached into his pocket, pulling out his signature pocket watch. It was always with him. “I heard you, Isla. My father gave this to me,” he murmured, holding it out for her to see. It was the first time she had seen his watch.
Finlay’s pocket watch was a stunning, antique timepiece.
The case was crafted from 18-karat gold, adorned with intricate engravings and ornate filigree.
A delicate, silver-toned chain attached the watch to a small, polished fob.
The watch face itself was a masterpiece of horology, featuring delicate Roman numerals and slender, blue-steel hands.
The overall effect was one of refined, vintage luxury.
“It is wee beauty,” she whispered, feeling the intricate framework of the device.
“All I do is for my father’s honour. He taught me to be smarter than he is, to respect the homes of others.
” Isla handed the watch back to him. He took it, closing his fingers around it tightly.
“My father was cheated, and I saw him carry that burden, so I vowed never to do that to anyone. To prove to everyone that there are developers who are not consumed by the idea of profits.”
Isla fought back a smile. His words were genuine and true. She could tell by the intense look in his eyes. They held a faint, faraway look, as if lost in a memory. A glimpse of a long-held grief.
“You will make him proud.”
“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind…” Finlay trailed off, unable to complete his statement. “Never mind.” He shook his head and continued, “We should get back to this.” He took a step toward the crazy wall. “How do we know who killed Angus?”
“Have you stopped to consider Callum’s motive?” Isla pointed out.
It made more sense for Beatrice to be responsible for Angus’ death than Callum.
“Maybe he killed Angus by mistake. That kinda thing does happen. I have seen it.”
“Where?” she asked, eyes glinting with subtle amusement.
Finlay shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “In movies,” he answered reluctantly. “Some are based on real life.”
“You know what, let’s not leave any stone unturned. Callum was the last person to see Angus. We know he is very eager about the building project, and the question is, why?”
Light footsteps approached from behind. Isla and Finlay turned to see Moira. She had a book tucked under her arm and her reading glasses on. Shakespeare scrambled on all fours to welcome her. He nuzzled into her leg.
“My wee bairn.” She laughed, watching him gallop back to his toy. “I just showed Eryn how to do the books, so you don’t need to worry about them.”
Then her gaze fell on Isla and Finlay. “What are ye two up to? I hope ye are not planning to do anything to piss off Beatrice again?” She pushed passed them, coming face to face with the wall.
“Isla…” she called in a warning tone. “I know ye want to find the truth, but what did officer Rory tell ye the other day?”
“That he was going to arrest Finlay because he isn’t from Lochraven,” Isla replied.
Moira shot her a stink eye. “Och, did he really say that?”
“Not exactly, but he insinuated it. I know what he meant, Gran.”
Moira’s eyes suddenly became distant, like she had seen a ghost.
Seeing the sudden change in her gran, Isla stepped forward cautiously. “Gran?”
No reply.
Moira peeled the picture of Angus and his sister from the wall. Isla shot Finlay a worried look. ‘It’s okay,’ he mouthed at her.
“Where did ye get this photo?” she asked, eyeing them suspiciously.
“Gran, if we tell you, promise not to freak out,” Isla said with a look of caution.
Moira arched an eyebrow at her granddaughter. “I’m going to freak out. Do ye know who this is?”
“Who?”
Moira brought the picture to her eye level, staring at it for a few seconds. Her lips parted, mouthing a few unintelligible words. She cleared her throat. “This is Malina Stewart. She was Angus’ sister.”
Malina Stewart, as in Dugan and Beatrice Stewart?
“What?” Isla exclaimed.
“Moira, was she…” Finlay trailed off with wide eyes.
“Beatrice’s mother? Yes, she was. She and Dugan were married before she killed herself.”
Killed herself? Isla was shocked. So, Angus was Beatrice’s uncle. And that meant the letter they had found was written by Malina.
That meant Dugan was not Beatrice’s father.
Oh my God.
“Ye can’t discuss this with anyone. Beatrice was the star of Lochraven.
She was a kind-hearted and compassionate woman, but we didn’t know that underneath that joy and smile, she was depressed.
She… um… hung herself, and her family suffered greatly from her loss.
” Moira returned the photo to the wall. “It’s why the town voted Dugan as council leader, though he was a good leader.
” She turned to Isla and Finlay, who were speechless.
“I want the two of ye to promise me that ye would be careful. I’m not stopping ye from trying to do what ye believe is right, but ye hae to be careful.”
Isla and Finlay nodded.
Moira walked out of the bindery with Shakespeare following behind her and leaving the duo with their thoughts.
“Do you think Dugan knew?” Finlay whispered when it was only the two of them. “Like did she eventually confess?”
“That’s hard to tell, because he really loves Beatrice. I have never seen something to prove otherwise.”
“So, who is Beatrice’s biological father?” Finlay asked.
It was a question only Malina and possibly Angus could answer, but they both were dead. “But if she knew the truth, would she kill Angus? Her own blood?” Isla pointed out.
“And would Angus want to expose her for lying about the donation? His niece. His sister’s daughter?” Finlay added.
What if it wasn’t Beatrice? The investigation was starting to take a different turn.
That left one person. Someone who didn’t have a reason to kill Angus but was still entangled by his involvement. He had purposefully left out that he was at Finlay’s house the evening Angus was murdered.
“Now, what were you saying about Callum?” Isla asked.
“Until you find a motive, you can’t really say Callum is the killer,” Ailsa said, digging her fork into her salad.
Isla and Ailsa were at the Thistle & Thyme café having lunch.
“I’m thinking he was trying to convince Angus to help with the project, and they argued, and things got out of hand,” Isla explained.
“And the note Finlay received?” Ailsa queried in a hushed tone.
Isla shrugged. “He must have found out we were investigating the case. He saw us at the library.”
Ailsa shook her head.
“What?” Isla asked.
Ailsa set her fork down. “It doesn’t quite add up. I’m not saying it couldn’t be Callum, but maybe he is eager for the project because he needs money or he killed Angus out of anger. But…” She trailed off. “You cannot rule out Beatrice because she is related to Angus.”
“Right?” Isla paused to think. “I mean, she has a lot more to lose than Callum.”
“I went to school with Malina. She was the star girl, most loved. Funny how no one ever talked about her. If you had told me about the picture and the letter, I would have known it was her. Malina Bell was from a founding family. They were farmers, and her dad had a gambling problem, so he sold his farm to the Buchans to pay his debt.” Ailsa poked at the lettuce on her plate with her fork.
“Then her father wanted her to marry Buchan’s son, James.
But she was in love with Stewart. She chose Dugan even though she knew they’d be poor forever. ”
Poor forever? Dugan didn’t look poor to her. “Poor? They seem to be doing fine.”
“Och, the wealth came after she died. Sad story,” Ailsa murmured, pushing a fork full of salad into her mouth.
“Yeah, but that just made me realise something,” Isla said, straightening up.
“What’s that?” Ailsa asked with a full mouth.
“All of this started with Buchan.”
That had to be the missing connection.