Peter May - The Chessmen

More than a few of the men there that night knew of the history between Fin and Whistler, of their almost unbreakable teenage bond. It made the fact that Whistler had struck him all the more remarkable. Voices which had arisen out of the earlier silence to bay for blood subsided once again. Feet shuffled backwards, and a space cleared around them. Kenny helped Jamie to his feet, and Whistler just stood there, breathing hard, glaring at Fin lying on the floor. ‘Never took you for a landlord’s lackey,’ he shouted, as if trying to find an excuse for what he’d done.

Fin pulled himself up on to one elbow and put a hand to his face to check if his jaw was broken. It came away with blood on the fingers where his lip had cut itself on his teeth. Hands reached down to help him up. He stared back at Whistler, and the hush which had descended became one of anticipation. But Fin had no intention of getting involved in a brawl. His hurt went deeper than any external injury. He shook his head. ‘Never took you for anything but a friend.’

Whistler’s remorse was apparent in moist eyes, and in the tightness of his lips, but it wrestled for ascendancy with the anger that still gripped him. ‘I’ve no quarrel with you.’

‘You just hit me!’

‘And you’ve taken sides against me with him.’ He turned and almost growled at Jamie, who flinched involuntarily.

‘I’ve taken sides with no one, Whistler. I’m on the side of the law. And you’re breaking it.’

‘Sometimes being on the side of the law’s being on the wrong side, Fin.’

‘I don’t think so.’ But no sooner were the words out of his lips than he thought of Donald.

Whistler snorted, like a horse impatient to be off at a canter. ‘Well, let’s see. It’s a full moon the morn’s night. A great night to be out and about at Loch Tathabhal. Fish’ll be biting, for sure. Maybe you’ll see me there, and maybe you won’t. But if you do. . well, maybe then we’ll see who’s right and who’s wrong.’

It was clear to every man there that Whistler was issuing a challenge. Catch me if you can. He turned and pushed his way roughly to the door and vanished out into the night.

‘Call the police, Kenny,’ Jamie said. He was white with anger, shaking and still trying to recover his breath.

‘No.’ Fin stopped Kenny in his tracks.

‘He assaulted both of us, in full view of every man here.’ Jamie could barely control his fury.

‘Men fight,’ Fin said. ‘That’s a matter between them. Not for the police. You told the man you were going to take away his home. His family home for generations. How did you think he would take it?’

‘He’s ten years behind on his rent!’

‘And what’s that to you? A few hundred pounds. You owe him for the chessmen.’

‘Says who?’

‘I’ve seen them. The full set. He didn’t do that for fun. I suggest you check with your father.’

Jamie took two steps towards him, lowering his voice, a threat in it now. ‘You get him, Macleod. You get him, or I’ll bring in people who can.’ Fin noticed how the friendly ‘Fin’ had been dropped now in favour of his surname.

‘Oh, I’ll deal with him,’ Fin said, green eyes fixed on Jamie’s. ‘But for his sake, not yours.’

It was nearly twenty minutes later that Fin came out into the twilight. The wind had dropped, moonlight washing already across the hills, falling in silvered daubs through the leaves of the trees around the lodge. Stars were only just visible in a dark, azure sky, and the midges were biting, their season extended by the long, hot, dry spell. Clouds of the tiny flies, masked by the fading light, filled the night. Unseen but certainly felt.

The hubbub in the bar fading behind him, Fin saw the shadows of two figures beneath the trees across the yard, and he realized with a shock that it was Whistler and Anna. He could hear their voices raised in anger, but not what they were saying. They hadn’t noticed him, and he stood still, watching from a distance, listening to their argument rising in pitch. Until suddenly she slapped her father with such force that he actually stepped back. The sound of it rang out across the night. Such a powerful strike from such a small person. Anna Bheag. Wee Anna. Dominating the big man who was her father. She turned immediately and hurried up the path towards the house, and Fin was sure he heard a sob catching in her throat.

Both men stood without moving for what seemed like an age, Whistler still unaware of Fin’s presence, until Fin cleared his throat and the big man’s head snapped round. They stood for several moments more, staring at each other through the late evening gloom. Then Whistler turned abruptly and walked away into the night without a backward glance.

Fin and Gunn stood by the helicopter watching the recovery team at work below. It had taken another hour for them to get there, and the day was starting to fade. Professor Wilson had been amazed to discover that he could actually get a signal for his mobile phone if he stood up above them on the shoulder of the mountain. He was talking animatedly to someone back in Edinburgh.

Gunn was gazing into the valley in reflective silence. He turned suddenly towards Fin. ‘I got a letter from the Presbytery yesterday, Mr Macleod. Calling me to give evidence at Donald Murray’s trial, or whatever it is they’re calling it.’

Fin nodded. No doubt his would be waiting for him at home. And he wondered what he would say to those people who wanted to throw Donald Murray out of their Church. He closed his eyes and recalled the horror of that night in Eriskay when two men from Edinburgh had faced them with guns and the promise of death. And Donald had arrived like an avenging angel to take the life of one of them and save all the others. A man motivated by the threat to the lives of his daughter and granddaughter, his progeny, the only reason, perhaps, that God had put him on this earth.

If you believed in God, that is.

‘I don’t have to go,’ Gunn said. ‘I mean, it’s not a legal summons.’

Fin nodded. ‘No.’ Then frowned. ‘But why wouldn’t you?’

‘Because I’m afraid I might do him more harm than good, Mr Macleod.’ Fin had long since given up trying to get Gunn to call him by his first name. While still in the force Fin had been a Detective Inspector, superior in rank, and George was nothing if not a stickler for protocol. Even though Fin had long since quit the police.

‘Why would telling the truth do him any harm?’

‘Because after these bloody gangsters snatched Donna and the baby from Crobost, and went south looking for you and the others, all Donald Murray had to do was lift a phone and call the police. But he was so hell-bent on dealing with it himself. If he had just called us, things might have turned out differently.’

‘Aye.’ Fin nodded gravely. ‘We’d all have been dead. A couple of unarmed island policemen would have been no match for two armed thugs from the mainland, George. You know that.’

Gunn shrugged reluctant acquiescence. ‘Maybe.’

‘Why else would the Crown have dropped the manslaughter charges?’

‘Because they knew they wouldn’t get a conviction in a court of law, Mr Macleod.’ He scratched his head. ‘But a court of the Free Church of Scotland. . that’s another matter altogether.’

Fin sighed and nodded acknowledgement, and was swamped by concern for a friend he felt powerless to help.

Gunn watched him for a moment, then turned back to the plane in the valley below. ‘I don’t know how we get that thing out of there. But I suppose they’ll want it back in Stornoway for examination. There might be a hangar at the airport that we could use to store it. Or maybe the old Clansman mill in town. I think that’s still empty. But then, we’d never get it through the streets. No, the airport would be best.’