Кит Мори - Deadly Still

‘Does he know about Jamie?’

‘He does. I thought it was my duty as his family doctor, especially as I had confirmed his death. He found it difficult to take in, of course, what with the booze he’s had and the blood that he’s lost.’

‘So he’d been on a bender? Did he fall and injure himself?’

‘Like Robbie Ochterlonie? Actually no, he hadn’t. It’s a strange tale, I’ll fill you in when you come in. Anyway, I’d better go. I need to stitch him up. I’ll have finished by the time you get here, so you can talk to him then.’

‘Did he drive himself in?’

‘No, it was our local good Samaritan once again. Stan Wilkinson delivered him in his Royal Mail van.’

Torquil was relieved that Ralph had broken the bad news to Angus Mackintosh. He did not know him well, but he had encountered him professionally on a few occasions in the past, mainly as a result of being drunk and disorderly. And on two occasions of common assault, both while under the influence of alcohol. Allowance had been made because he was a widower and a single parent. Ralph had passed on the information that he was not a habitual drinker, but more of a toper who went on binges when black depression overcame him. It was not an easy situation, since he refused the offer of antidepressants or counselling.

Ralph was entering his case notes as he told Torquil the details.

‘Stan Wilkinson found him crawling up a track from one of the old crofts beyond the Wee Kingdom. He was drunk, confused and injured. He’d apparently been doing up a cottage and somehow put a nail-bolt through his thigh. It hit a blood vessel and he lost a lot of blood and passed out.’

‘Had he been drinking?’

Ralph shrugged. ‘I don’t know if he had before the accident, but he told Stan he came round, used a belt as a tourniquet and then drank near a bottle of whisky to get the courage to pull the bolt out. He couldn’t just pull it out, though, he had to cut it out, which is why I’ve had to clean the wound up, stitch it and leave a drain in. Anyway, he collapsed, woke up hours later and dragged himself out, hoping to see someone.’

‘Why did he not take his vehicle.’

‘He couldn’t remember where it was and he doubted that he could get in it, let alone drive.’

Angus himself virtually reiterated the whole story when Torquil saw him in his bed in a room on his own. His right leg was heavily bandaged and a drainage tube hung from it over the side of the bed.

‘It isn’t real,’ Angus said, his face buried in his hands. ‘My boy Jamie, he’s doing his Highers. He’s a clever lad and he’ll be off to uni soon.’

‘I’m so sorry, Mr Mackintosh. But we will need you to identify his body later this morning.’

Angus slowly raised his head and stared at Torquil. His eyes were bloodshot and tears had moistened his stubbly cheeks. He took a deep breath and nodded his head. Then: ‘And the other two? Vicky and Catriona, was it?’

Torquil put a hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘I’m afraid that Catriona has been transferred to the Western Isles Hospital in Stornoway. She’s got visual problems and is being dialysed.’

‘Dialysed? What does that mean?’

‘It’s a treatment to use a machine to work like the kidneys to clear the poison out of her system.’

‘And Vicky?’

‘She’s missing and we’re searching for her.’

‘Good God! This is an island. How can you still be looking for her?’

‘We were looking for you too, Angus.’

‘What did you say about poison?’ he asked, shaking his head as if to clear his mind.

‘We believe they’d been drinking peatreek with a high quantity of methyl alcohol in it.’

Angus’s jaw muscles tightened and he clenched his fists. ‘I’ll find out who gave them it and I’ll bloody kill them.’

His eyes blazed with fury for some moments and then the enormity of what had happened seemed to dawn on him again and he dissolved into tears. He dropped his head and his sobs racked his body.

‘I … I’ve lost them both, now. It’s not fair! it’s not fair.’

Again Torquil put a hand on his shoulder and waited until his sobbing settled. ‘Angus, as soon as the Scene Examiner has completed his investigation I’ll arrange for you to see Jamie to identify him.’

Angus nodded his head but said nothing.

Later, over the phone, Torquil gave Calum the full rundown on the three teenagers and the current state of the investigation.

‘The Stornoway Coastguard Rescue helicopter has joined the search, scouring the sea and the coastline,’ Torquil told Calum. ‘Hopefully, with so many people involved, it will not be long before we find her or some track that will help us.’

‘And dogs?’ Calum asked. ‘I contacted the Strathshiffin estate’s gamekeeper, Guthrie Frazer and he said that he and his underkeeper would turn out with their dogs.’

‘Aye, Guthrie was out yesterday, but I guess it was too wet to pick anything up. Rain dampens the smell, of course. Let’s hope for a different result today.’

‘Cora is going to interview the Spiers, since she knows them and already has a good rapport with them.’

‘We have to be as reassuring as we can, without being unrealistic, Calum. We can’t promise them anything other than we’ll do our best to find her unharmed.’

‘Aye, Cora’s intelligent and sensitive, so don’t worry.’ Then he said what Torquil was dreading to hear: ‘As for me, I’ll be having a chat with Angus Mackintosh.’

‘Not yet, Calum, please. The Senior Scene Examiner has only just taken all the samples and assessed the scene, and Ewan has arranged for Allan Moorhouse the undertaker to bring the body back to the hospital mortuary. We’ll be able to get Angus to formally identify him there, before we transfer the body to Lewis for the post-mortem.’

‘In that case, I’ll leave it a day or so. And will you be talking to television or radio?’

Torquil knew that Calum wanted to be assured of his scoop. ‘I’ll have to soon, Calum. This is too tragic a happening to delay, you know that.’

‘I’d better get back to the office and start writing then. How long will you give me?’

‘An hour, then I’ll be calling in to BBC Scotland.’

The phone went dead as Calum switched off. Torquil heaved a sigh of relief. Clearly, Calum hadn’t heard about the death of Robbie Ochterlonie and he saw no reason to inform him as he’d find out soon enough. Besides, he had enough to fill several newspaper editions as it was.

Vicky Spiers slowly felt herself rise to consciousness after what seemed like hours of a stupor that she could not waken from. Her head hurt more than she ever thought possible. Worse than the pain, though, was the nausea.

Where am I? she thought. Where are the others?

Then she realised that she could not see, nor even open her eyes. Something was holding them shut and it hurt to even attempt to move her eyelids.

Oh God! What’s happened to me? I’m sitting on a chair, I think, but I can’t move a muscle. My hands! They’re tied behind me!

There was not a sound. No breathing. No Talking. Nothing.

Panic set in when she tried to open her mouth, only to find the same constriction about her mouth and face. Something had been wrapped around her head, over her eyes and over her mouth. The nausea welled up inside her and she felt bile in the back of her throat.

No! No! No! Don’t be sick.

Her fear-stricken mind tried to piece together her last memories, but it was all a haze.

Jamie! Catriona! The old pillbox.

A dim recollection of waking up somewhere outside came to her. It was misty and it made her cough and splutter. She was stumbling around and seemed to hit a track of some sort. Then she heard something, but what was it?