Pat McIntosh - The Counterfeit Madam

‘But why should we believe you now,’ Lowrie asked, ‘when you’ve lied already?’

‘No to mention the delay you’ve caused to learning who killed your mistress,’ said Livingstone, ‘so we canny get her in her coffin. Here, what’s the right story about the other two lads? Where did Billy and Nicol go, tell me that?’

‘I wouldny ken, maister,’ said Attie miserably, ‘for I never saw them till they cam back here and waited along wi Alan and me.’

‘Were you talking about where you’d been?’ Gil asked. ‘Did they say aught about their errand?’

The man stared at him, obviously applying some thought to the question.

‘Aye,’ he said after a moment. ‘They did.’

‘Well?’ prompted Gil.

‘They said it hadny been a pleasure. I mind now,’ he produced, ‘they were saying one they cried Dusty was a right cross-grained fellow, Billy had naught but a sweering off him when he took some word to him, and Nicol said, Aye, the man Campbell was the same.’

Lowrie met Gil’s eyes across the hearth, and said to the servant,

‘That sounds as if they were separate errands.’

‘Aye, it does,’ agreed Attie, in faint surprise.

‘You told us yesterday,’ said Gil, ‘that these men, Nicol and Billy, had been sent to ask when the Campbells would be home.’

‘I did that, maister,’ agreed Attie. ‘That was what she bade them do.’

‘What Campbells are these? Are they the same as the man Campbell that Nicol spoke to?’

Attie shook his head warily.

‘I wouldny ken, maister, it wasny my errand, see, and they never said aught about that, just what I recalled the now. But it seemed to me,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘as if they kent a bit more about it all than I did, when the mistress gied them their orders.’

‘Can you mind what her words were?’ Lowrie asked. ‘Was there any sign they were to go different ways?’

Attie applied more thought, but shook his head.

‘I canny mind, Maister Lowrie,’ he said. ‘All I mind her saying was, You two, go and find out when the Campbells will be back in Glasgow. And she called them a few names and all.’

‘What did she call them?’ Gil asked, wondering if the names might be significant. A signal of some kind, an indication of where the men should go?

Attie looked anxious.

‘Just the same as ever, maister. Billy Blate, Nicol Runsch, ca’d Nicol a useless weed of a fellow and Billy a spiritless fool. None of it true, neither.’

‘I’ve heard her use both those by-names,’ Lowrie said. Gil nodded, discarding the idea, and gestured to Livingstone, who set down his glass and led Attie from the chamber, his expression grim. ‘Where will you go next,’ he asked diffidently.

‘I need a word wi John Sempill,’ said Gil with resignation.

‘Is Eck Livingstone finished wi that parchment yet?’ demanded Sempill. ‘I need it back, Maidie needs to show she’s-’

‘John.’ Magdalen Boyd turned to Gil, closing her book and laying it in her lap. Today she was wearing another gown of undyed wool, this one of light soft brown; it gave her pale skin some warmth. ‘Maister, I’m sure you’ll see, I’d sooner that parchment was back in our keeping, so long as we can be certain the land’s mine.’

‘It’s yours all right, no question!’

‘I’ve no knowledge of the matter,’ Gil said truthfully. ‘I’m here about your godmother’s death.’

‘Nothing to do wi us,’ said Sempill. ‘And if the Living-stones couldny keep the old termagant safe, why should that concern us?’ He glanced at his wife’s expression and swiftly changed attitude. ‘Mind, it’s vexed Maidie. If it’s no an apoplexy, like Eck says, then the sooner you get someone taken up for it the better we’ll like it.’

‘Then someone’s to hang for it,’ said Lady Magdalen quietly. ‘How should that please me, John?’

He looked at her, baffled, and Gil seized the opportunity.

‘Did either of you ever set eyes on her purse of silver?’ he asked.

‘Purse of silver?’ repeated Sempill. ‘What purse? Where did she keep it? No, I never saw sic a thing,’ he added belatedly.

‘Never,’ said Lady Magdalen simply. ‘I knew she was well to do, but we never spake of money, only of land. Is it missing, sir?’

‘It is. What’s more, it’s missing out of her jewel-box, and the rest of the contents left untouched.’

‘That’s all Maidie’s now,’ said Sempill, possessive and inaccurate.

‘Perhaps she gave it to someone herself,’ suggested his wife.

‘Who could she have given it to?’

‘How would we ken what the old beldam was up to in Glasgow?’

‘John.’

Does he know it went missing in Glasgow, thought Gil, or is he simply making an assumption?

‘Maister,’ said Lady Magdalen, turning her gentle smile on Gil, ‘I wasny close to my godmother, but I held her in regard. She met a sorry end, and I’d like to ken why, and see the miscreant given time to repent. We’ll help any way we can, the both of us.’

‘It would help if I could speak wi the two of you separately,’ Gil said. She looked at him attentively, but said,

‘I’ve no secrets from my husband, sir. Ask what you will of me, then I’ll leave you and John thegither.’

‘I’ve no secrets either,’ began Sempill. She put a hand on his wrist.

‘You can speak plainer without me, I’ve no doubt,’ she said.

Nor have I, thought Gil. In fact he had little to ask Lady Magdalen, and she had less to tell him. They had met in Glasgow three days since at Dame Isabella’s instigation, and the old woman had learned only then of the plan to disinherit small John in exchange for the two plots on the Drygate.

‘I think she only thought of bargaining with you after that,’ said Lady Magdalen. ‘She’d promised me the other property in Strathblane more than once.’

‘Aye, she had,’ muttered Sempill.

‘I think she aye intended I’d get that and your sister would get the one by Carluke. I suppose she’s maybe settled it all in her will.’

‘Have you inspected either property?’ Gil asked. She shook her head, the dark wool of her veil swinging by her jaw.

‘The rents come in on time, no need to worry the tenants. John sees to all for me.’

Gil glanced at Sempill, who tucked his thumbs in the armholes of his leather doublet and looked back rather defiantly.

‘And one other thing. Yesterday after I left you, when I was inspecting the toft on the Drygate, I was struck down and thrown in the Molendinar.’

Sempill guffawed.

‘I heard about that. And rescued birk-naked fro the bawdy-house, weren’t you!’

‘A dreadful thing,’ said Lady Magdalen, and her husband subsided. ‘I hope you took no lasting harm, maister?’

‘I’ll live,’ he said. ‘Have you any idea what they might be up to, that they took exception to a stranger?’

‘They’re half of them wild Ersche on that toft,’ said Sempill. ‘No saying what they’ll take exception to. Was you robbed? I’d take it on and double the rents if I was you.’

‘I don’t know why they would attack you, maister,’ said Lady Magdalen. ‘I was shocked when I heard of it. Young Lowrie, that was waiting on my godmother, he told me of it when we,’ she bent her head, ‘when we went to pay our respects.’

Sempill crossed himself in a perfunctory way, then looked quickly at his wife. She was smiling sadly at Gil.

‘If that’s all you’ve to ask me, sir,’ she prompted. He rose politely, and she made her farewells and left, her feet sounding lightly on the stair. Gil sat down again and looked at Sempill, who had not moved.

‘Well, John,’ he said. The other man eyed him warily. ‘Tell me where you went yesterday morning, then.’