No Stranger to Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 1 (11 page)

‘Why would they do that?’ Zoe asked. ‘They’re probably just talking to Mr Baird again.’

‘Everyone knows it was Gregor that did it. Anyway, his dad’s not there. He went out with his dog earlier and he’s not home yet. They asked me if I’d seen him.’

Hearing this, it dawned on Zoe who it was she had seen on the way to the coach house: Jimmy Baird and his Jack Russell terrier.

Neil had turned the Land Rover around while she was in the shop, and as she got back in he pointed over the road at Horseshoe Cottage. ‘They’ve caught up with Gregor Baird at last.’

‘Not you too,’ Zoe said, but she could not help looking.

It was easy to spot the distinctive figure of Erskine Mather as he led a group of men towards two cars, one a dark green saloon, the other in police colours, which were parked on the road. Two uniformed officers flanked a man wearing jeans and a check shirt, while Sergeant Trent walked behind them carrying a black holdall. As the uniformed officers guided the man into the rear of their vehicle, Mather dropped back and spoke with Trent, who looked cold despite his duffle coat and the red scarf wrapped high around his neck.

‘I need to see Mather,’ Zoe said, opening her door again. ‘Sorry, but they’ve been looking for Jimmy Baird and I think I saw him earlier.’ Without waiting for a response she got out and crossed the road. The police car drove off.

‘Good morning, Doctor,’ Mather said. Trent greeted her with his usual brief nod.

‘I believe you’re looking for Mr Baird. Jimmy, that is.’

‘Yes.’

‘I think I saw him a couple of hours ago, out walking his dog. I’m surprised he’s not home by now.’

‘Where was this?’

‘Heading towards the water meadow not far from the Larimer Park estate.’

Mather looked at Trent, who shook his head.

‘Can you show us?’ Mather asked.

‘Yes, of course.’ Zoe cast a look over her shoulder towards the Land Rover and its occupants. ‘But I’ll need to tell my, um, friend first.’

Rather than take Mac back to Larimer Hall until she was able to collect him, Neil insisted on following them to the water meadow, so as to be on hand to drive Zoe home once they were finished. Disinclined to argue with him in front of Mather, she nodded, walked back to the police car and climbed in.

Less than ten minutes later, Trent brought the car to a smooth halt beside a gate a little way on from where Zoe had seen Jimmy Baird walking his dog. Neil’s Land Rover pulled in behind them shortly afterwards. Mather got out and looked expectantly at Zoe. She realised he must want her to accompany them in case they found Jimmy needing medical attention, and wished she had brought her bag.

Mather took a pair of green wellies from the car’s boot and put them on, carefully tucking his trousers inside. Trent tried, unsuccessfully, to button up his coat, then caught his boss’s eye and went to open the gate. They all three walked through it.

The rough grass was interspersed with patches of coarse brown spikes. A small stream emerged on the left from an adjoining field, followed the boundary fence a short distance, then started a meandering route across the meadow. Mather stared into the distance, then raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes.

‘You think something bad has happened to him,’ Zoe said, not expecting a response.

Trent strode off, shoulders hunched against the cold. His DCI followed, though at a slower pace, and Zoe walked alongside him.

‘Is there a way out at the far end?’ Mather asked.

‘I don’t think so,’ Zoe said. ‘But I’ve only been here a couple of times. We couldn’t walk the full length because one of the wooden bridges has been swept away.’

Some distance ahead of them, Trent reached the first of the narrow bridges. He shouted, ‘Boss!’, pointed at something and rushed to the water’s edge. Mather and Zoe hurried to catch up with him.

They stared at the macabre white buoy floating on the surface of the water. Immediately below, still clutching the lead which bound them together, its master lay face down in some reeds.

Chapter 12

Zoe watched Trent uncouple the lead from the dog’s collar, pull the animal clear of the water and lie it down on the bank. After removing his overcoat and handing it to his sergeant, Mather lowered himself into the water, which came up dangerously close to the top of his boots, and tugged on the lead. Jimmy Baird bobbed to the surface and swivelled until he was floating on his back. A deep gash split his forehead and his cheeks were sunken, as if his dentures had fallen out.

Mather pulled the body towards him and bent to examine it, then he straightened up and wordlessly exchanged looks with Trent. Apparently deciding it would be a waste of time trying to resuscitate the old man, Mather returned to dry land, while Trent dug deep into his coat pocket and pulled out a mobile phone. He moved a few metres away and had a brief conversation with someone, presumably summoning the same team which had turned up following Zoe’s discovery of Chrissie’s remains less than a week earlier.

Zoe could not stop looking at the dog’s corpse, its position a disturbing reminder of how Mac had first looked after being hit by Peter’s car. She reminded herself its owner was also dead.

‘Shouldn’t we get him out?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Mather said. ‘He’s beyond help. Strictly speaking, I shouldn’t even have moved him.’ He took Zoe’s arm and led her a few metres away from the water’s edge.

‘You don’t seem surprised,’ Zoe said. ‘Did you expect this to happen?’

‘We had no reason to believe Mr Baird was in any danger, but he’d been out for so long, I began to have my concerns. Most people wouldn’t take their dog for a two-hour walk on a day like this, and certainly not an elderly man in poor health.’

‘I wonder why he came here today.’ Zoe gazed at the bridge, a grandiose term for a pair of wooden planks held together halfway by a metal bar. The one time she had crossed it herself, she had thought how easy it would be to slip and tumble into the water below. She shivered. The already bleak day was growing colder and darker as heavy clouds gathered. It looked like the predictions of snow were going to be proved right.

Mather stared over her shoulder and shouted, ‘You were asked to wait in your vehicle’.

Zoe turned to see Neil approaching, bent awkwardly low and clinging to Mac’s collar.

‘Sorry. The dog was getting restless, so I let him out for a breather. It didn’t occur to me he’d chase after you.’ Neil released Mac, who rushed up to his owner, tail wagging.

‘What’s happened?’ Neil asked.

‘See for yourself,’ Zoe said.

Neil started to move towards the stream. Trent, back from making his phone call, grabbed him. ‘You can’t go there.’

Neil wrested his arm from Trent’s hold and glared. ‘There’s no need to get physical. You only had to ask.’

Trent’s jaw clenched, but Mather intervened before his sergeant could take things further. ‘Mr Pengelly, we’ve found a body, so this whole area must be treated as a crime scene. Could I ask you to escort Doctor Moreland back to your vehicle? I think she’s feeling the cold. I’ll join you there shortly.’

Neil shot a hostile look at Trent, then took Zoe’s hand and led her to his Land Rover. He started the engine and switched the heater to maximum. Once her teeth had stopped chattering, Zoe briefly described what she had seen.

‘Talisker too? Who would kill a defenceless dog?’ Neil asked.

‘We don’t know yet if anyone killed them. The poor man may have simply slipped and fallen, dragging the dog in after him. Just because Chrissie was murdered, we shouldn’t assume her husband has suffered the same fate.’

Neil nodded. ‘An accident would make more sense.’

For once they were in agreement.

Very soon, more police cars and several unmarked vehicles started to arrive, lining up along the road in front of the Land Rover. Neil and Zoe watched as men and women pulled on their crime-scene coveralls, and Mac growled as the white-clad figures then passed by to check in with Trent, who stood at the gate like a head waiter directing diners to their tables. Last to appear was an ambulance from which no one descended.

Mather came over to ask Zoe what time she had seen Jimmy and whether she had noticed anyone else in the vicinity, pulling out his notepad when she recalled the speeding Volvo and the letters on its registration plate. Then he told Neil to take her home and strode back into the field.

‘You’ll be on his Christmas card list this year,’ Neil said, steering his vehicle back on to the road.

Suddenly feeling exhausted and not trusting herself to reply, Zoe stared out of the Land Rover’s smeary window and tried to push the images of the dead terrier and its owner’s face out of her mind. When they reached Keeper’s Cottage, she only managed to send Neil on his way by agreeing he could ring her that evening to check she was all right.

However, being alone brought her little peace of mind, and halfway through making a long awaited coffee she remembered promising to look in on Jean. She grabbed her coat, scarf and driving gloves and opened the front door, only to discover the snow which had started to fall gently while Neil drove her home was now coming down much more heavily. And settling.

Radio Borders was warning people to go out only if their journeys were absolutely necessary, but Jean lived so close this hardly qualified as a journey. Zoe drove towards the village at a fraction of her usual speed, the car’s windscreen wipers working overtime to keep the glass clear. Although it was only mid-afternoon, what light remained was a sickly yellow and fading fast.

Coming up to the junction opposite Westerlea’s graveyard, Zoe applied the brakes as gently as possible. Despite this, her car continued to move forward, unchecked.

Trying to remember what she had learned on the advanced driving course Russell gave her one Christmas, she fought the urge to struggle against the vehicle’s momentum, instead steering into the skid. The car slewed across the road and Zoe braced herself for the impact as it glided into one of a pair of cylinder-shaped stone gateposts at the entrance to Westerlea’s cemetery.

There was less noise than she expected, and the jolt was no greater than when she had to brake suddenly the other day to avoid a hare running along the road. Getting out to look, she could find no visible damage to the car’s bodywork, although the front lights on the passenger side had imploded. This would definitely mean a visit to a garage and, worse still, she could already see the smug expression on Kate’s face.

Back in the driver’s seat, misery overwhelmed her. Deep breathing failed to relieve the tightness across her chest, and so did a blast of Led Zeppelin. This stupid accident was the last straw.
Imagine thinking her life would improve by moving here. All she had achieved was to swap one set of problems for another
. Unable to hold in her despair any longer, Zoe repeatedly banged the palms of her hands against the steering wheel and howled, her breath steaming up the windscreen which snow had already started to obscure from the outside.

Headlights loomed in the rear view mirror. Zoe froze, gripping the wheel as a Range Rover slowly passed her and continued without hesitation up the road. So much for looking after each other in the country. She resented the other driver for not stopping to check she was okay, while simultaneously feeling relief at not being discovered with crimson cheeks and eyes puffy from crying. Nevertheless, the appearance of that vehicle out of nowhere reminded her it was now dark and still snowing, and she was parked at a junction with no lights on.

She blew her nose, then restarted the car and carried out a series of cautious manoeuvres until it faced in the direction of Keeper’s Cottage.
No one could say she hadn’t tried
.

Back home, she telephoned Paul to tell him about her abortive attempt to reach Jean’s house. He sounded horrified. ‘My dear, you must promise me you won’t try to go out again tonight. It’s stopped snowing now but that may only be temporary.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t. But can you give me Jean’s number? I’d hate her to think I’ve forgotten my promise to visit.’

‘I spoke to Tom a few minutes ago. Jean was asleep on the couch – she didn’t have a good night. I’ve arranged for her to call me when she wakes up, so I’ll give her your message then, if you want. It’s not worth us both disturbing the poor lass.’

Zoe agreed, then asked if he had heard about Jimmy Baird.

‘Yes, Margaret called to tell me. What a terrible turn of events for young Gregor. Being taken to Hawick for questioning about his stepmother’s murder, and then finding out his father’s dead too.’

‘Do you know Gregor? Do you think he could have done it?’

‘What, kill his stepmother and then his father?’

‘You’re assuming Jimmy was murdered as well?’

‘Even if he wasn’t, it changes very little in my estimation. Is a person more evil if they’re capable of killing two people rather than just one? I don’t feel qualified to answer that, my dear. Do you?’

Chapter 13

The sky remained overcast next morning, threatening yet more snow. It was Sunday, and not being a churchgoer, Zoe resigned herself to seeing no one. She had not experienced another deplorable loss of self control since the previous day’s incident at the cemetery gates, but her spirits were still low.

Kate turned up mid-morning unannounced, as Zoe was about to reward herself with a coffee for doing an hour’s housework. It was the first time they had met since Chrissie’s car was found on Heartsease Farm, although numerous texts had passed between them, particularly about Tom’s experience with the police. Feeling as she did, Zoe would not have chosen to have a visitor at all, but if anyone could cheer her up it was Kate.

‘I felt sure you’d be in. Bet you can’t even get that car of yours out of the garage. Do I smell coffee?’

‘The roads can’t be too bad if you made it here,’ Zoe said, not wanting to mention her prang quite yet. ‘Or did you walk?’