No Stranger to Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 1 (18 page)

‘No thanks. I think I’ll sit here quietly and watch some undemanding daytime television.’

Half an hour of watching a programme about buying properties at auction then doing them up for a profit was all Zoe could tolerate. The pain in her ribs was becoming difficult to ignore, and her neck and shoulders had stiffened up too. She rose to fetch another tablet, dismayed she could only walk stooped over like an old lady with osteoporosis.

Mac growled. The threat wasn’t immediate enough to make him jump off his chair, but he was warning Zoe to be on her guard.

‘What’s up, boy?’ She listened and could now hear footsteps on the gravel outside. It was almost certainly Neil, taking no notice of what she’d asked him to do.
As usual
.

The footsteps continued. Whoever it was had bypassed the front door and was making for the rear of Keeper’s Cottage.

Chapter 21

Despite being neither big nor ferocious, Mac took his protection duties very seriously. As Zoe went to investigate the footsteps which she could now hear crunching in the gravel at the rear of the house, he rushed past her, stuck his head out of the cat-flap and barked loudly. Yet this demonstration of pugnacity was unmatched by his tail, which continued to wag amicably. Zoe took this to be a sign that her unexpected visitor was well-intentioned and opened the back door.

Lisa Humphreys held a large bunch of flowers and a small white box. Without a shop counter to take cover behind, she appeared even more slight and pale than usual, and chewed her lip in apprehension, as if knowingly delivering the wrong order to a hard-to-please customer.

‘Doctor Moreland, I hope you don’t mind me coming to see you.’ The wispy voice was that of a girl half her age. She stared down at the ground.

‘Of course not, although you don’t find me at my best. Come in.’

‘I’ve brought you carrot cake.’ Still not making eye contact, Lisa put the box down next to the flowers on Zoe’s draining board.

‘Thank you, that’s so kind. Would you like some tea or coffee?’

After winning the now familiar tussle over whether she was fit enough to undertake this simple task, Zoe made two mugs of tea which she allowed Lisa to carry through to the sitting room. Lisa expressed shock and sympathy over the accident and Zoe responded graciously, although all she really wanted was to be left alone to take another painkiller.

The room fell silent, while a bird sang in the honeysuckle outside the window.

‘I’m told you and Brian have done wonders with the shop.’

Lisa picked at a hangnail on her left thumb. ‘It was a bit run-down when we took over.’

‘I imagine it must be tricky sometimes, working and living together.’

‘Oh no, we enjoy each other’s company.’

‘Have you been married long?’

‘Before we came to Westerlea.’ The thumb started to bleed, and Lisa wiped it on her jeans.

Zoe could not work out if the girl was merely shy or being evasive, and did not feel up to the effort of finding out. Even Kate would be hard pushed to make conversation with her. She was considering feigning the need to lie down in order to get rid of this uninvited visitor when Lisa stood up, her pallor now a chalky white and her lips blue.

‘Can I use your bathroom?’ She headed towards the hall without waiting for a reply.

Zoe had no time to give directions, but the slamming of a door signalled that Lisa had found her own way. The sound of retching shortly afterwards indicated she had got there just in time.

Trying to keep her back straight, Zoe carefully placed a log inside the woodburner. Unasked, Neil had filled the basket that morning but it was already getting low. She wondered when he would telephone, then silently scolded herself for the thought.

Lisa reappeared, a little colour in her cheeks now but her lips still blue. ‘Sorry about that. I must go.’

‘I think you should sit down for a few minutes. Make sure you’ve finished throwing up before you set off.’

Lisa sat on the edge of the chair, poised to flee at any time. She started to chew her lip again and her eyes shone with tears.

‘What’s the matter?’ Zoe asked.

When the answer to her question finally came it was no surprise. This was a scenario which had played out in her consulting room many times over the years. Only the names and faces changed.

‘I’m pregnant.’

‘Does Brian know?’

‘He guessed.’

‘You mean you didn’t tell him?’

‘No, I couldn’t.’ Lisa pulled a tissue out of her pocket and started to sob into it.

Despite having no religious or moral opposition to abortion and not being in the least bit maternal herself, Zoe hated moments like this. An unwanted pregnancy was such a reversal of what should be a joyful occurrence.

‘How far gone are you?’ she asked gently.

‘Eight weeks, I think. I’m not very regular.’

‘Have you discussed it with Brian, now he knows?’

Lisa nodded.

‘Does he want you to have an abortion?’

Another nod.

‘What do you want?’

Dabbing at her face with the tissue and leaving a small deposit of damp paper on the side of her nose, Lisa said, ‘I can’t have this baby.’

Zoe leaned back and rubbed her ribs. ‘Why not?’

‘Me and Brian, we agreed, no children. I don’t know how this happened. We’re ever so careful.’

‘Does Brian feel he’s too old to start a family? Or perhaps he already has children from an earlier marriage?’

Lisa laughed, a sad, high-pitched sound. ‘We agreed, no kids. Please help me, Doctor.’ Her mind seemed made up or, more probably, had been made up for her.

‘Who’s your GP?’

‘I haven’t got one. Can’t you arrange it for me?’

‘You need to be registered with the Westerlea practice. Why don’t you pop into the health centre and fill in the form then ask whoever’s on reception to make an appointment with me at the end of the week?’

‘Can’t you send me somewhere?’

‘If you want me to refer you, you’ll have to be a patient.’ Seeing Lisa shake her head, Zoe added, ‘Don’t you think you should be registered with a doctor anyway?’

Lisa swept a hand across her face, dislodging the piece of tissue from her nose, and Zoe watched it float slowly down to the floor. She was moved by the girl’s plight but also starting to become impatient. They were, after all, in her home not her consulting room, and she felt in no fit state to counsel anyone.

‘If you’re worried people in the village will find out, I promise they won’t.’

Lisa didn’t reply.

Zoe sighed. ‘I can give you the address of a clinic in Edinburgh, if you want to go privately,’ she said, her words sounding harsher than she intended. Her ribs were really hurting now. ‘Would you prefer that?’

Lisa sniffed and nodded.

‘I don’t have the information here.’ Zoe made an effort to keep her voice as kind as possible. ‘But I can drop it round to the shop in a couple of days. Would that be soon enough?’

The phone rang a few minutes after Zoe saw Lisa out of the front door. She put down her glass of water and groaned.
Would she ever be left alone long enough to take her medication?

‘Zoe, my dear, how are you?’

‘Hello Paul. I’m all right, thanks. I’ve got painkillers to help me over the next couple of days.’ She gazed longingly at the small bottle standing with its lid off.

‘Why didn’t you let us know what happened?’

‘I was going to ring you later. Please don’t worry, I’ll be in tomorrow.’

‘You must take as much time off as you need to recover. I’m phoning because Walter and I were terribly worried when DCI Mather told us your car had gone off the road.’

Thinking it unlikely Walter shared Paul’s concern, Zoe asked, ‘When was that?’

‘He’s just been here. I think he’s on his way over to you now.’

‘He’s seen rather a lot of me recently. Still, I can’t complain. It’s a good thing he was there when it happened.’

‘I got the impression he doesn’t think it was an accident. I do hope he’s wrong.’

‘Oh Paul, you can’t believe someone deliberately set out to make me crash my car.’ Zoe’s attempt at a carefree laugh sounded more like a witch’s cackle to her ears.

There was silence at the other end of the line.

‘As I said, I’ll be in tomorrow.’

‘Is there anything you need?’

‘Nothing, really. Kate’s made sure I won’t run out of the basics. But I shan’t be able to attend Mrs Hensward’s funeral. Tell Jean I’m thinking of her, won’t you?’

‘Of course, my dear. Are you sure you should come back to work so soon? We can bring in a locum if necessary.’

They both knew this was untrue. Finding one at such short notice would be virtually impossible.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Zoe fibbed in return. ‘I’ll have to come in by taxi, of course. I’m hoping my insurance company will pay for me to hire a car, but I haven’t been able to organise that yet.’

‘There’s no need for a taxi. One of us will come and pick you up.’

Before she could argue with this, Zoe was distracted by Mac barking. ‘That must be Mather now,’ she explained, hurriedly saying goodbye.

As usual, the patent shoes gleamed, while the navy wool coat had been replaced by a grey raincoat worn with a matching scarf. After greeting Zoe and asking how she was, Mather frowned as she let him in.

‘I know the dog tells you when someone’s about,’ he said, ‘but you really should be more security conscious. Look out of the window or ask your caller to identify themselves before opening the door.’

‘Is that a roundabout way of telling me someone tampered with my car?’ Zoe slowly led Mather into the sitting room. He did not reply until he had draped his coat over the chair and sat down.

‘I would give anyone the same advice. But you’re right. Its brakes didn’t fail of their own accord.’

‘Oh shit.’

It was one thing to speculate about the cause of her accident, quite another to have her worst fears confirmed by a policeman. Zoe’s heart began to race. She tried taking deep breaths to stay calm but it hurt too much. She reached for Mac, who was lying beside her chair, and he licked her hand.

‘That was fast work,’ she said, when she trusted her voice to keep steady.

‘I asked our collision investigators to phone through their preliminary findings as quickly as possible.’

‘How was it done?’

‘Do you know anything about how a car’s brakes work?’ Mather added hastily, ‘I’m not being condescending. Most people don’t.’

‘And I’m one of them. I love to drive but I rely on others to keep my vehicle roadworthy.’

‘In that case, I won’t try to explain the technicalities of it. Our investigators found that your car’s braking mechanism had been damaged – on purpose – so that it would fail the first time you tried to use it at speed.’

‘My steering went too. The wheel felt loose when I tried to avoid the plough.’

‘They didn’t find any indication of that being meddled with. It was probably damaged by your car being jolted about over the tracks in the field.’

‘Is it easy to rig a car’s brakes or would the person responsible need specialised knowledge?’

‘They definitely had to know more than the average car owner, but we aren’t necessarily looking for a qualified mechanic. It was easy to spot. An expert could have covered their tracks better.’

‘Unless it was more of a warning than a serious attempt to get rid of me. Though goodness knows what I’m being warned against.’

When Mather replied, it was with a degree of seriousness in his voice which surpassed any he had previously used. ‘I wish I could say there was no intention to do you serious harm, but I can’t. The result was so unpredictable that, at best, it must have been carried out by someone who didn’t care what happened to you.’

Again Zoe had to pause to collect herself before asking, ‘Do you think they’ll try again?’

‘If we accept it was a serious attempt on your life – yes, in all probability.’

This was beyond belief. The person who examined her car must have made a mistake. Then Zoe remembered Kate’s dictum that once you accepted Chrissie Baird had been murdered, anything else could happen too. And Chrissie was dead, indisputably by someone else’s hand.

‘Why me?’ she asked.

‘I was hoping you would know. And be prepared to share it.’

Mather’s expression had shifted from solicitous to stern. It was obvious he suspected Zoe of keeping back information which held the key to what had happened. Now he and his officers had a murder, a suspicious death and an attempted murder to investigate.
He can’t have expected to see this much action when he moved back to the Borders.

‘How many times do I have to say this?’ Zoe thumped her fist on the arm of the chair and winced at the pain this sent through her body. ‘I know nothing about the Bairds’ deaths and have no idea why anyone should be out to get me too.’

The policeman said nothing. Zoe’s exasperation abated as quickly as it had flared up. ‘I’m sorry. You’ve every right to ask me anything you like. I know you’re only trying to help.’

‘Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you? How about from before you came to the Borders, when you lived in the Midlands?’

Zoe tensed. He can’t have been in touch with the police down there yet, but it was only a matter of time. She shook her head.

‘In that case let’s approach it from another angle. Do you ordinarily lock your car away in the garage or leave it parked outside the house?’

‘I usually put it in the garage at night, but there’s no lock on the door. I’ve been meaning to buy one ever since I moved here but never found the time. You know what it’s like.’

Mather nodded, although Zoe doubted he ever put off doing anything.

‘And before yesterday, when did you last drive it?’

She thought about this, tried to remember.
Why couldn’t she remember?

‘Yesterday was Tuesday,’ Mather prompted.

‘I know. I didn’t go anywhere that morning except down the road for a quick walk with Mac, and then I waited in for you. The day before – Monday – I drove to work in the morning, came home for lunch, then we walked to Larimer Park to check up on what the builders were doing.’