Pat McIntosh - The Rough Collier

‘How many salt-boilers are there along this shore?’ Gil asked. ‘I heard of a fellow called Lithgo one time.’

‘Simon Lithgo? Aye, that was a bad business.’ Wullie shook his head, and Gil made a questioning noise. ‘Oh, a bad business. Died at the pans, didn’t he. Found in his own Number Two pan, boiled to a turn. Coffined burial,’ he added with relish.

‘How did that happen?’ Gil asked, his thoughts racing. Surely the trouble at the Pow Burn couldn’t reach this far, he told himself, but -

‘Peter Nicholson reckoned his heart gave out. He should never ha’ been tending the pans on his own. And the worst o’ it was,’ Wullie added, ‘he’d no long got his last daughter wedded, he was working for hisself at last. More than ten year syne, that was. I’d no recalled Simon Lithgo in a many year. A bad business,’ he said again.

‘I never thought of it being a dangerous trade.’

‘That’s a good one!’ Wullie guffawed. ‘A dangerous trade! That’s a good one! Aye, you’re right, maister, it’s a dangerous trade. Now, I need to get back to my pans,’ he announced, scanning the line with his red-rimmed eye. ‘Number Fower’s about ready for skimming, I’d say. Ye’re welcome to take a dander about, maister, afore ye go.’

‘Thanks, I will,’ said Gil. ‘Are the Paterson lads here, by the way? Jock and Tam, I mean, the two sinkers. I was hoping to get a word wi’ them.’

‘Jock and Tam.’ The man stared at him, and rubbed at his closed eye-socket. ‘Aye, they’re here wi’ me. Jess’s nephews, they are. What was ye wanting them for? They’re up at the house, but they’re likely asleep the now. Here, is it you they’re looking for these last two week or more, to talk about the small coal from Lanarkshire? They’ve been right concerned for ye, maister.’

‘No, that’s not me, but I’m looking for the same fellow. I want to ask Jock and Tam about him. I’m hoping they can tell me where they parted from him.’

‘I wouldny know about that,’ said Wullie doubtfully. ‘They’ve never said.’

‘You’re telling me they’re asleep? How long before they’re stirring?’

‘No long.’ Wullie glanced at the sky. ‘They’ve been watching the nights for me while they’re here, since our Jock’s no to be depended on, poor laddie. Will I rouse them, or will ye wait, maister?’

Gil elected to wait, and strolled on along the shore a little in the evening light, leaving the man to get on with his work. Once he rounded the point the shouts of the men by the ships dwindled, and all he could hear was the bleating of sheep and lambs in the pastures inland, and the cries of the seabirds, and the steady swish of the tide beyond the expanse of mud. The east wind blew in briskly from the German Sea, and across the firth the salt-pans of Fife flew similar plumes of smoke.

He sat down on a bank of rough grass to consider what he should ask the Paterson men. He was still not sure whether he was investigating a murder. On previous occasions there had been a body to identify, or at least in one case a head; here he had a body which was not Murray, and Murray whose body was not to be found, whether the man was alive or dead. Perhaps he has been spirited away, he thought, grinning to himself. Maybe Fleming is right about witchcraft. But Alys had seen no sign of such a thing up at the Pow Burn.

And what had taken Alys into Carluke this morning? She had discovered a great deal for him, one way and another. He found himself smiling again at the thought of her, her endless capacity for surprising him, her incisive mind and astonishing competence. And the warmth of her skin under his hands, the way her lips clung to his. As always, he marvelled at his good fortune. An hendy hap ich habbe yhent , he thought. I wonder if she learned anything in the town?

The light was beginning to fail, and the tide was coming in across the wide stretch of mud before him. He rose, stretched, rubbed at the seat of his hose. The grass was not as dry as he had thought, and he must have been sitting here for quite some time.

Wullie and his wife and son had vanished, presumably into their house, and been replaced by two men who were on their knees checking the fires below the row of pans, raking at the hot coals with clanging iron implements. One of them noticed Gil walking in along the tide-line, and spoke to the other; they rose and came forward to meet him, big broad-shouldered men with the same economical walk he had noticed in the colliers.

‘Aye, neebor. Is that you that’s looking for Tam Murray?’ demanded the taller, as soon as he was within earshot. ‘Have you any word of him at all?’

‘None,’ said Gil frankly. ‘I was hoping you could tell me more. Where did you see him last? I think you parted from him somewhere on the round before you reached Forth.’

‘Oh, long afore that,’ said the other man. ‘Lanark. We left him in Lanark.’

‘Lanark?’ repeated Gil incredulously. ‘But — Do you mean he left it to you to collect the whole of the fees?’

‘Oh, aye,’ agreed the taller brother. ‘He mostly does. Meets us outside Forth town.’

‘Sweet St Giles!’ He looked from one man to the other. ‘I take it Mistress Weir doesny know of it.’

‘What do you think?’ said the taller man, the light catching his teeth as he grinned.

‘So where does he go? Does he simply stay in Lanark drinking?’ Gil looked about at the twilight. ‘Will we sit down and you can tell me what you know about the man.’

There were three stumps of driftwood drawn up in the mouth of one of the sheds, an unlit wood fire set and the ashes of many more fires scattered on the shore around them. Seated here, the Patersons answered his questions, slowly at first, then more confidently. The taller brother, it seemed, was Jock, and it had been his idea originally to take up Sir Thomas Bartholomew’s suggestion and seek work in Lanarkshire.

‘Lanark folks is all right,’ he said dismissively ‘A bit soft, especial in the head, but they’re kind enough.’

‘Lanark lassies is more than all right,’ observed Tam, smacking his lips.

His brother kicked his ankle. ‘Och, see you? Anyway, we get there, maister, and find Tammas Murray, that was at the sang-schule in Kincardine wi’ our brother Davy, set in authority in the place. He was right pleased to see us and all.’

‘Took us on like a maid embracing her lover, so he did,’ supplied Tam. ‘Treated us well, too. Choice of lodging, bed to oursels, laddie to carry our gear whenever we was working, fetch our sister to mind the house — though that never lasted, she up and wedded Attie Logan.’

‘And we hadny been in our place six month afore he sends for us one morning and he says to us, private like — ’

‘I’ve a proposition, he says.’

‘Aye, a proposition. D’ye think, he says, ye can find your way about Lanarkshire and back here with a bag of coin.’

‘What’s in it for us, says I.’

‘And he says, ye’ll get paid extra for it if ye can keep your mouths shut, says he. So we agreed a fee, and he sets out wi’ us, and in Lanark he leaves us wi’ a list of where we’ve to call, and the names of who to ask for at each place, and what’s owed, and we do the whole round and then meet him in Forth.’

‘And we’ve done it every quarter since,’ contributed Tam.

‘And no a word to anyone, till now.’

‘Well!’ said Gil. ‘And where was Murray while you were collecting the coin?’

‘Now that,’ said Jock with deep regret, ‘we’ve never jaloused. It’s aye the same place he leaves us, in the midst of Lanark.’

‘We took it he was wi’ a lassie, but we never found out where.’

‘A pity, that, seeing what like his wife is at the Pow Burn,’ said Jock thoughtfully. ‘If I’d that Joanna in my bed, I’d no feel the need to keep another in secret.’