Кит Мори - Deathly Wind

‘And will you?’ asked Lachlan.

‘Of course not, but I just wanted to rattle him a bit, and get him off our case.’

Ralph McLelland had stood up and was packing his bag. ‘I feel a bit guilty there actually, Torquil. He collared me at breakfast and pumped me for information. I didn’t think he’d be straight on national news with it.’ He shook his head guiltily. ‘And I’m afraid I’ve got to be off. I have a surgery soon.’

Once he had gone, Torquil addressed the others. ‘Right, we’ve got a number of leads to follow up. First—’

He was interrupted by the phone ringing on the station counter. Morag went through to answer it. They waited until she answered it and came back.

‘That was Nial Urquart,’ she volunteered. ‘He says that he’s worried about Katrina Tulloch, the vet. She’s just left her flat in a hurry – he’d stayed the night he told me – and she’s taken some sort of a rifle. He says she looked preoccupied and went off as soon as she heard that news bulletin this morning.’

‘Calum again!’ said Torquil. And then after a moment’s thought, ‘But what could there be in that news bulletin to worry her?’

‘There’s more,’ said Morag. ‘She’s taken the keys of his boat.’

‘We’d better get after her and see what’s going on,’ said Torquil.

‘We’ll go,’ said Wallace standing up. ‘Shall we take the Seaspray ?’

Morag stood in his way. ‘No, with respect, I think I should go. I know her better than you. She’s a woman and I’ve talked to her already. I know she’s a bit confused at the moment.’

Torquil nodded. ‘I agree; Morag should go.’

‘And I’ll keep her company, shall I?’ suggested Lachlan. ‘Better two people in the Seaspray catamaran.’ Then as she was about to remonstrate, he added, ‘Remember that Ewan went missing after going off on his own.’

‘Uncle Lachlan is right, Morag. Away you go. We’ll sort out the rest of the tasks.’

Vincent was feeling exhausted and guilty after a sleepless night. After taking Megan back to her croft he had listened to her rant about Nial Urquart’s betrayal. He had wiped her tears away, and together they had speculated about the cause of the fire. At about five in the morning they had drunk a couple of whiskies and each become aware of the chemistry that had been threatening to bubble to the surface for several months.

She kissed him and he recoiled.

‘Katrina, I’m old enough to be your—’

She silenced him with another kiss. And then another.

‘But what about you and Nial?’

‘There is no me and Nial now.’

And then they moved to the bedroom where they stayed, cocooned from the world by their love-making, until the cockerel and the geese roused them back to reality, and the ever-increasing problems that surrounded them. But now their love-making was like a drug and the hours seemed to drift by until Vincent finally heaved himself out of bed and started to pull on his clothes.

‘I don’t want you to go, Vincent,’ Megan pleaded, and she insisted that he stay for breakfast. As she prepared food and boiled the kettle, Vincent settled down on the settee and turned on the television. As they ate, they watched the morning farming programme, which was interrupted by the news bulletin from Kirstie Macroon. They sat and watched in horrified silence.

‘Oh my God,’ gasped Megan. ‘What is happening to this place? It is all falling apart. She leaned forward and put her hand on his. ‘But at least I have you to protect me now.’

Vincent shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Megan. It doesn’t feel right.’

‘It feels very right to me.’

‘What should we do, Megan?’

She wiped her mouth with a napkin. ‘We need time to talk and see where we’re going here. But I have a job to do first. Wait a minute.’

And she disappeared into her bedroom, coming back after a few minutes with a large holdall and a rucksack. ‘These are Nial’s,’ she said. ‘Will you help me load them in the car?’

‘I had better come too.’

‘No, I have to do this myself.’

He helped her pack up the car and watched her drive off into the swirling mist. Then he purposefully strode back to his croft. He had an important job of his own to do.

Alistair McKinley had watched the firemen battle to contain the fire, then withdrew and watched the police go about their business after they discovered the body. After they had taken it away Alistair went back to his croft and catnapped in his armchair before washing and breakfasting. Then as usual he went out and tended to his livestock and did some work on the loom. Half expecting a news report on the fire he went in for a cup of tea and turned on the old television in time to see Kirstie Macroon’s report. As he watched, he became more and more irate.

‘So much death!’ he whispered to himself. ‘And all down to him!’

Methodically clearing up his breakfast things he set about doing the other chores that he did not feel could wait, before going back to the outhouse that housed his loom. Pushing several boxes of wool aside he prised up the flagstone in the corner, reached into the hollow beneath and drew out the rifle wrapped in polythene. He unwrapped it, gave it the once over, then reached into the hollow again and drew out his father’s old hunting bag, which contained his spare ammunition.

‘Just one more job to finish,’ he mused. ‘And this is in your memory, Kenneth my lad.’

Five minutes later Alistair McKinley’s jeep disappeared into the mist, its red tail lights swiftly disappearing in the swirling yellow vapours.

Then a lone figure came round the side of the croft, heading swiftly across the ground towards the Morrison family croft. He sniffed the air as he went past it, heading up the rise towards Wind’s Eye croft. And he stood by the burned-out shell surrounded as it was by the plastic police tapes.

‘Just one bloody great mess!’ Geordie Morrison muttered to himself. ‘Someone’s going to pay for this. And I am going to see to that!’

Morag and Lachlan had arrived at the Seaspray catamaran berth just in time to see Nial Urquart’s motorboat disappear out of the harbour, heading northwards.

‘It’s a nippy little thing that she’s got there,’ said Morag, ‘but we’ll soon catch her.’

She donned a waterproof and life-jacket and started the Seaspray up while Lachlan untied the mooring ropes and then boarded beside her. ‘Aye, as long as she doesn’t disappear into the mists,’ he said, as he donned waterproofs and life-jacket, while Morag went through preparations to leave harbour. ‘Have you any idea where she may be headed?’

‘None at all. But what worries me most is why she feels she might need a gun at sea.’

As she expertly manoeuvred out of the harbour before accelerating northwards it looked as if Lachlan’s fears might be correct. Already the boat had disappeared into the misty waters.

Morag switched on the radar and moments later she had a blipping image on the screen in front of her. ‘We can’t see her, but she’s there right enough. And it looks as if she’s heading around the coast.’

‘Towards the Wee Kingdom, do you think?’ Lachlan asked.

‘Maybe,’ Morag replied. ‘Or possibly to Dunshiffin Castle.’

‘Wallace, I want you to go to the Wee Kingdom and make sure that Vincent Gilfillan, Alistair McKinley and Megan Munro don’t leave their crofts. We’ll want to take statements from them later. Douglas, I want you to find Nial Urquart and bring him back here.’

‘Are you going to question him, Piper?’ Douglas asked.

‘I am. But I’m going to go over things here first and get my thoughts in order. And I’d better give the superintendent a ring and put him in the picture.’