The Whisky Affair (Raymond Armstrong Series) (11 page)

The sun appeared through the trees, brightening up the cottage just as Raymond sat down to read the local paper with a fresh cup of tea. However, his thoughts kept coming back to the loss of his best friend, Gordon and his parents’ situation and Anne…

He’d met Anne on the Isle of Bute, what seemed like an eternity ago. Gordon had invited Raymond up for the jazz festival, long weekend in May. The Island wakes up around that time of year in preparation for the summer tourists who follow shortly thereafter. It’s really like a kick-off, a chance for all the retailers to get back into the mode of being busy and earning their keep for the year.

There’d been a party in one of the bars and that’s where he met Anne. He asked if she would like to dance, and she accepted. He paused from his thoughts – that pleasant moment frozen in his mind.

He absolutely hated jazz over any other music genre. The sound of it today would have him looking for aspirin to calm the headache that came with the notes. They had both laughed when Raymond had revealed he asked her to dance because she was so good looking. They talked half the night, then sat on the promenade watching the ocean while waves crashed against the rocks. There they discussed the music they truly loved. After that, once they were a couple, whenever a big name was playing on the mainland, in Glasgow or Edinburgh, Raymond would plan for them to go.

The first time was to see
Aerosmith
in Glasgow. He asked her at the last minute. He actually couldn’t be anything other than a ‘moment man’ as she called him, what with the job he had. Working with MI6 was not your normal five days, forty-hour gig.

She’d been over the moon when he invited her to the concert. She’d jumped into his arms and asked where they were staying – and told him it better be a nice hotel…and it better have two rooms.

He had whispered, ‘No. There’s one king-size bed.”

‘Going to the next level are we?’ she’d asked shyly.

Raymond took the main road through two villages and headed out over the moors. It was a scenic drive he had driven many times in his younger days. He looked to either side, where sheep grazed in the pasture with lots of spring lambs hanging close to their mums. He pulled into the car park and took the last spot available. No surprise. It was already busy. He’d gone on the Internet and indications were that Phil’s newest enterprise did quite well.

The restaurant had won many awards for its fine dining – of course it had reputable chef, Phil Hutchinson. Phil had figured out the right balance between good Yorkshire fare and a subtle touch of French cooking. The locals loved it and Phil said the eclectic menu kept the place full each evening.

Nice on Phil, he thought and looked forward to trying his old mate’s cooking.

Kate was already sitting at the bar drinking a glass of
Taittinger
champagne, which was always her choice before dinner. ‘It cleanses the palette and livens up the taste buds, for the complex red wine to follow shortly,’ she’d told him countless times.

They hugged and Raymond ordered a G & T at once. He had booked a table, tucked in the corner, away from the many family tables.

“Well let’s get some food ordered and you can bring me up to speed. I am famished,” said Kate. She chose a medium-rare steak while Raymond opted for the gammon, with the traditional fried egg on top. Kate asked the waiter for a bottle of
Gigonadas
red wine from the Cote Du Rhone.

“Good wine pick with the food. Who is the producer?” Raymond asked her.

“
Vignobles Quiot
.”

“Not familiar with them.”

“A fantastic, independent family-owned producer.”

The waiter brought the wine. Kate nosed it gently above the glass, moving from side to side, then announced all was well. The server poured two generous helpings into their glasses.

“I was so sad to read about Gordon’s death: I know how close you two were.” She squeezed his hand gently and looked concerned about what he would say next.

“Let me get straight to the point and work backwards. You, of all the people I know, would also have picked up on something weird in the details of Gordon’s death, being in the industry.” He explained all of his findings in Gordon’s office, along with many of the theories and thoughts that had buzzed his brain over the last few days on the Island.

“I picked up the empty whiskey glass that I found in his office – sniffed the glass. It was definitely the peatiest expression the distillery ever released,” he exclaimed in closing. “Gordon detested peaty whisky and only his daughter and I knew about his secret aversion. He would drink it in public of course, but never for personal consumption…and certainly not on his own in his office where his favourites lined the shelves.”

“Why on earth would he detest peaty whisky? He was the owner of a distillery, after all.”

“Well, actually I don’t appreciate malts that are over 40 phenols per million either. Many drinkers in the world obviously love them, but those high phenols are not for everybody.”

“Point taken, but why in Gordon’s case?”

“He lost a girlfriend – his very significant partner actually, when they were students at university. He came home to find their flat on fire, with Elizabeth trapped inside. The fire service did all they could. Apparently Gordon just steamed into the building to save her, but to no avail. Just the smell of smoke was bad enough for him after that, never mind tasting it.”

“Wow!”

“Funny, I was reminiscing about when we were kids while I was in Haworth the other day. We were both train spotters and back then he loved the smoke from the trains.”

All the emotions he now felt were almost overwhelming.

Raymond breathed a sigh of relief, when their beautifully plated meals were placed in front of them and their glasses filled. It was difficult to talk so he focused on the delicious meal.

“This must be so difficult, almost alien for you being so personally involved with a mystery like this. Normally you are so detached. Let’s return to the facts and delve into your gut feelings on all this. I want to help,” said Kate softly.

“I know. Actually, I am so used to being in control, this emotional response is quite odd for me.”

“Are you okay?” She touched his hand in a gesture of support.

“No, I’m not okay. This is the first time in my life I have been knocked off my routine… What with my parents going into a retirement home and my best friend dead…? Since my ‘retirement of sorts,’ I have come to value my friends and family so much and have been trying to catch up for lost time. I had planned to spend a lot more time with Gordon.”

“Sorry Raymond,” she said reaching out to hold his hand again.

“Hey, what do we have here?” said Phil, laughing.

“Kate, meet my old friend Phil – the chef and owner of this fine establishment.”

“Did you enjoy your meal?” he asked her.

“Excellent and no wonder you’re so busy.”

“How was the funeral?” asked Phil, concerned.

“Emotional, to say the least.”

“Anything you ever need, just let me know.” A waiter approached Phil and Phil apologized before leaving. “Nice seeing you both.”

Good to have friends close by, but I imagine finding Gordon’s killer will end up my responsibility. I will find the bastard; you have my word, Gordon.

“So what is your conclusion?”

“I don’t have a clue,” Raymond whispered, grabbing Kate’s arm.

Kate took three deep breaths. “Right; let’s look at this logically. Why would Gordon be under stress that could cause a massive heart attack and why was he drinking a whisky he detested and alone in his office when his favourites were right there?”

“Something was troubling him. But he had stopped drinking excessively – that I know for a fact,” Raymond explained confidently.

“Think harder Raymond. You knew him and were just up there. Say whatever is on your mind and I will try to fill in the blanks. Drink more wine and relax. You are letting your personal feelings cloud your judgement. Don’t you like the hint of coffee on the back of the palate on this wine? Spicy and fruity on the mid-palate, don’t you think?”

He took a sip. “Delicious, and a plummy fruit on the front to mid-palate.”

“Good job, whisky guy.” She nodded.

“What are the grapes?”

“Mainly Grenache. They give the wine the fruit forward characteristics. Some Syrah and Mouvedre.”

Raymond took another long sip. “Very nice and I am starting to feel more relaxed. So much on my mind lately… Hey, glad you could have dinner with me tonight.”

“That’s what good friends are for. Now continue,” Kate said, clearly anxious to hear more.

“Well I am saving my only solid clue for last. Your area of expertise actually. I went to Gordon’s favourite spot on the Island…” Raymond described the area and the background explaining why Gordon’s family considered it so special.

“A letter from a solicitor? How intriguing. So just the top left hand side with their name and ‘Dear Mr. Reid.’ What about the date?”

“Last week.”

“You’re right. This is something to do with the distillery – it has to be,” Kate said while pondering the possibilities. I wonder how much Gordon’s distillery’s worth. There are a lot of takeovers of distilleries at the moment. Single malts and craft beer are top growth trends in the drinks industry. Wine has trailed off.”

“I would have no idea about its value but I do know Gordon would never sell. He always emphasized it would stay in the family.”

“I agree with you regarding the worthiness of Louisa, but from what you have told me about James, I would not be too sure he was a good candidate for ownership.”

“Yes, James is rather an oddity, rather sulky and well – I find him sneaky. He goes around the world with a video presentation of the distillery that he produced himself. He spends company money like it’s going out of style and apparently Gordon had words with him because his expenses were so high.”

“Money,” she said, writing the word down on a napkin. “The root of all evil.”

At that, Raymond’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Hold that thought.”

It was Louisa. “Uncle Raymond, I just had the worst row with James. My brother is such a loser. Anyway, I wanted to let you know about the event tomorrow night, in Stirling. I know Dad wanted you to come along with him. It’s sold out but were you still hoping to go?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Okay, I will leave a vendor badge at the door. You may have to help me pour whisky when I get busy.”

“My pleasure,” Raymond assured her and wondered how she was dealing with all this. “What else do you have going on? You should take some time off – to process… I mean so soon after all this”

“Carry on, Uncle Raymond. I’ll run the distillery. If I focus on work it will take my mind off losing Dad. Its what Dad would want.”

“And James?”

“He’s heading back to the USA. This is the last month of busy events until things quiet down in the summer.”

“What has James said about losing your dad, the future of the distillery?”

“Move on, sis. He thinks we should get out of the business.”

“Charming. So, what comes after the Stirling event?”

“Toronto. I can’t miss Canada. We have worked on that event for almost a year. The Internet’s three leading whisky ladies will be there and we’ve planned all sorts of events – ladies only – and all those are sold out.”

“May I tag along to Toronto too?”
Kate’s assumption immediately came into his mind: that money is the root of all evil. Would someone, whoever was responsible for murdering Gordon, try to hurt Louisa? He could not take the chance they would not
…

“All the way to Canada. Are you sure Uncle Raymond?”

“Actually, I have a lot of friends in Toronto I have not seen for far too long. I need a break from Haworth and Stamford. And I agree, we need to keep busy and not mope around.”

“Okay, of course having you along will be nice company for me. Keep me focused. Remember though, ladies only at most of the events in Toronto.”

“No problem.” Raymond placed his phone back down on the table.

“Well, I caught some of that. Going on a trip?” Kate asked him.

“Yes, Toronto. It will be fun. I have never been there as a tourist. Only on business.”

Kate had known Raymond a long time. She looked into his eyes. “Anyone in particular you might visit in Toronto?”

“I met my old flame on the Island, the other day. Raymond described their chance meeting, the dinner, and saying good-bye the next morning. He never dreamed he’d run into her at the funeral or find out she was getting a divorce and moving to Toronto.

“Wow! Anne, the one that got away? It’s been years since you mentioned her.”

“To be honest Kate, I thought it best to forget her. But I never could. I always compared other women in my life to her. They were never quite as special to me. Now seeing her again…”

“And?”

“My feelings are stronger than twenty years ago. She is absolutely stunning, smarter, and fun to be with.” He paused, shook his head.

“If I may interject,” said Kate, “I think you have been given a second chance. What could possibly be holding you back? Second chances don’t come often in life. Take it.”

You’re right I will, once I find who killed Gordon…”

Kate looked at Raymond for a few seconds. Studied him intently.

“You think Louisa could be in danger, don’t you?”

“No question!”

Raymond drove to Scotland on a dreary afternoon and arrived in Stirling to a persistent light drizzle – the kind of rain that makes you feel cold and damp. He paused to admire the fabulously renovated railway station in Stirling, while his Sat Nav was advising him to proceed. The trip from Yorkshire had been uneventful and he marvelled that Scotland could build an effective motorway system while England had not.

He had spent the trip replaying the previous night’s conversation with Kate, followed by the phone call from Louisa. He believed Gordon’s death had something to do with the distillery and its value in the future. Still, Raymond couldn’t think of any other time someone had gone to the lengths of killing the owner to acquire a relatively small company.