Read Online 6 The Queen of Scots Mystery by Cecilia Peartree - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cecilia Peartree
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wondering about the new husband, but he was rudely interrupted by the arrival of Constable Burnet to escort him back to the interview room for another session.
They asked him the same questions yet again. He hoped his answers were more or less the same again too. It would be easy to get bored and start making stuff up, and that could land somebody in big trouble.
While Inspector Armstrong was running through the way carbon dioxide was stored and used in the pub, somebody knocked at the door of the interview room. After what sounded like a quick conference in the corridor, Inspector Armstrong poked his head back in, said to Constable Burnet, ‘Karen’s going to take over this interview now. Stay with it. I’ll be back.’
Who does he think he is, thought Neil to himself, Arnold Schwarzenegger?
A female officer came into the room. He had seen her before, at the pub on Saturday. She frowned as she sat down. He had the feeling her face would naturally fall into pleasant, friendly lines but on this occasion her eyes were cold as she assessed him.
‘So, Mr Macrae, were you alone in the flat above the Queen of Scots on Friday night?’
They hadn’t asked him anything like this before. His stomach felt weird. Had Penelope given a statement after all?
‘Um,’ he said. ‘Can I call my lawyer, please?’
If only he knew if she had said anything. He didn’t want to drop her in it but…
Later, once the lawyer had arrived, Neil confided in him.
‘You’ve got to tell them,’ was his immediate advice. ‘You can’t hide it. You say she was seen leaving on Saturday morning?’
‘Yes. But they’ve no reason to question the people who were around then. It’s got nothing to do with them.’
‘Any one of them could drop you in it,’ said the lawyer. ‘ You should have come clean about this before, Mr Macrae. It’s going to look really bad. And why didn’t you call me earlier?’
‘I didn’t want to bother you,’ muttered Neil. ‘It was the weekend. You might have been playing golf. Or sailing. Or whatever lawyers do in their spare time.’
The lawyer rolled his eyes. When the interview re-started, Neil answered the question and everything progressed from there. He told them about Penelope coming into the pub some time during the evening – he wasn’t sure when she had arrived – and hanging around by the bar waiting to speak to him, and about her missing the last bus. They didn’t say who had come forward with the information, but Neil guessed Penelope was in another interview room being questioned by Inspector Armstrong. He hoped she was all right.
‘We have a statement from – let me see – Jacobina Whitmore,’ said Sergeant Whiteside, glancing at her notebook, ‘that confirms your story about Mrs Johnstone’s arrival and the fact that you didn’t have time to speak to her until towards the end of the evening.’
‘Jacobina who?’ said Neil, and then he realised. ‘Oh – you mean Jackie, the barmaid?’
‘According to Miss Whitmore’s account, you and Penelope were still there when she left, but she thought you were both on your way up to the flat on the first floor of the premises. So she stayed
in your flat all night after that, did she?’
‘ It wasn't what it sounds like, but yes, I let her sleep in the spare room. It took her a while to calm down after we’d had our talk, and she missed the bus.’
‘Miss Whitmore says you didn’t go into the cellar at any time during the evening – is that correct?’
‘I didn’t need to go to the cellar that night. Everything was fine.’
‘So, Mr Macrae,’ said Sergeant Whiteside, fixing him with a stare, ‘what did Mrs Johnstone have to talk to you about that was so urgent it couldn’t wait?’
‘It wasn’t really urgent, exactly. And I told her it had nothing to do with me anyway – or with her for that matter. It wasn’t our responsibility. They were both adults. Allegedly,’ he added. Nobody smiled.
‘Who were both
They asked him the same questions yet again. He hoped his answers were more or less the same again too. It would be easy to get bored and start making stuff up, and that could land somebody in big trouble.
While Inspector Armstrong was running through the way carbon dioxide was stored and used in the pub, somebody knocked at the door of the interview room. After what sounded like a quick conference in the corridor, Inspector Armstrong poked his head back in, said to Constable Burnet, ‘Karen’s going to take over this interview now. Stay with it. I’ll be back.’
Who does he think he is, thought Neil to himself, Arnold Schwarzenegger?
A female officer came into the room. He had seen her before, at the pub on Saturday. She frowned as she sat down. He had the feeling her face would naturally fall into pleasant, friendly lines but on this occasion her eyes were cold as she assessed him.
‘So, Mr Macrae, were you alone in the flat above the Queen of Scots on Friday night?’
They hadn’t asked him anything like this before. His stomach felt weird. Had Penelope given a statement after all?
‘Um,’ he said. ‘Can I call my lawyer, please?’
If only he knew if she had said anything. He didn’t want to drop her in it but…
Later, once the lawyer had arrived, Neil confided in him.
‘You’ve got to tell them,’ was his immediate advice. ‘You can’t hide it. You say she was seen leaving on Saturday morning?’
‘Yes. But they’ve no reason to question the people who were around then. It’s got nothing to do with them.’
‘Any one of them could drop you in it,’ said the lawyer. ‘ You should have come clean about this before, Mr Macrae. It’s going to look really bad. And why didn’t you call me earlier?’
‘I didn’t want to bother you,’ muttered Neil. ‘It was the weekend. You might have been playing golf. Or sailing. Or whatever lawyers do in their spare time.’
The lawyer rolled his eyes. When the interview re-started, Neil answered the question and everything progressed from there. He told them about Penelope coming into the pub some time during the evening – he wasn’t sure when she had arrived – and hanging around by the bar waiting to speak to him, and about her missing the last bus. They didn’t say who had come forward with the information, but Neil guessed Penelope was in another interview room being questioned by Inspector Armstrong. He hoped she was all right.
‘We have a statement from – let me see – Jacobina Whitmore,’ said Sergeant Whiteside, glancing at her notebook, ‘that confirms your story about Mrs Johnstone’s arrival and the fact that you didn’t have time to speak to her until towards the end of the evening.’
‘Jacobina who?’ said Neil, and then he realised. ‘Oh – you mean Jackie, the barmaid?’
‘According to Miss Whitmore’s account, you and Penelope were still there when she left, but she thought you were both on your way up to the flat on the first floor of the premises. So she stayed
in your flat all night after that, did she?’
‘ It wasn't what it sounds like, but yes, I let her sleep in the spare room. It took her a while to calm down after we’d had our talk, and she missed the bus.’
‘Miss Whitmore says you didn’t go into the cellar at any time during the evening – is that correct?’
‘I didn’t need to go to the cellar that night. Everything was fine.’
‘So, Mr Macrae,’ said Sergeant Whiteside, fixing him with a stare, ‘what did Mrs Johnstone have to talk to you about that was so urgent it couldn’t wait?’
‘It wasn’t really urgent, exactly. And I told her it had nothing to do with me anyway – or with her for that matter. It wasn’t our responsibility. They were both adults. Allegedly,’ he added. Nobody smiled.
‘Who were both
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