Read Online Dandy Gilver and an Unsuitable Day for a Murder by Catriona McPherson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catriona McPherson
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door, a young man in grey flannel trousers and a knitted pullover whom it took me a moment to recognise as Constable McCann. I shut my mouth, tirade undelivered, and followed Alec outside to where McCann was waiting.
‘I dinnae ken why they’re being so close wi’ it,’ he said. ‘Mrs Aitken is away hame. It’s no’ a secret.’
‘Out on bail, eh?’ said Alec. ‘Perhaps they fear a mob descending if it’s generally known.’
At that moment another pair of young officers in their civvies came out of the station and stared hard at us in passing.
‘I cannae talk here,’ said McCann. ‘I’ll meet youse roond at the park gates on Pittencrieff Street.’ He pointed. ‘None o’ my brother officers stay oot that way.’
He took off at a good pace and Alec and I followed casually, after an interval. When we reconvened, Constable McCann asked us to walk along with him, saying that his mother would have his tea ready and the dog would get the lot if he was late again.
‘It’s no’ bail she’s got,’ he said when we were under way. ‘She’s let go. She’s innocent. Wee Mirren killt herself, so the doc said anyway.’
‘But I saw her,’ I said, stopping walking until Alec put a hand under my elbow to get me moving again. ‘She was sitting there with the gun in her hand and the blood still dripping. Besides, she confessed.’
‘Aye well,’ said Constable McCann. ‘The thing is, see, the police surgeon took – what d’ye cry them? – swabs. From Mrs Aitken’s hands and from Mirren’s hands an’ a’ and it turns oot they can tell fae the gunpowder how Mirren had fired the gun and her mother hadnae. So there it is.’
‘And the confession?’ I said. We had arrived at McCann’s house it seemed: a small grey cottage in a long terraced row. He stopped at the open front door. From behind a fringed fly curtain, there drifted the smell of bacon and the sound of a wireless.
‘Dr Stott said it happens all the time,’ he said. ‘A suicide and the mammy pretending she did murder.’ He touched his cap and disappeared behind the coloured beads of the curtain.
‘Can you believe that?’ Alec said, looking after him.
I nodded. ‘Thinking back, you know, she practically told me. In subtle code, but all the same. She said she didn’t have the courage to turn the gun upon herself, but she wanted to sit there holding it until the police came, because Mirren was dead and only if they hanged her could she be dead too.’
Alec heaved a sigh up from his boots.
‘What a god-awful mess,’ he said. ‘Poor Aitkens. I wouldn’t be in that house right now for a pension.’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘I was just going to suggest we paid them a visit.’ Alec looked suitably horrified and I hastened to explain.
‘I was supposed to find her, Alec. I was charged with finding her and bringing her home. As awkward as it’s going to be socially—’
‘Awkward!’ Alec squawked and I grimaced, agreeing with him.
‘—professionally, the least I can do is go and acknowledge . . . my complete failure.’
Abbey Park, however, was shut tight against all comers. The gate by which I had entered that morning was closed – locked and padlocked – and the tradesmen’s gate the same. The little lodge had its door locked and windows shuttered, and the house itself was hidden behind its walls.
‘I’ll write to her, then,’ I said, standing peering up at the chimneys, unable to help imagining what scenes of despair might be playing out in those rooms now. I hoped perhaps that Mary would be comforting Abigail, that Bella might have found it in herself to succour Jack, but when I remembered them all at the Emporium, stunned and crumpled by the shock of it, it was only too easy to think that each of the four would be curled up alone in some separate quiet corner, silently aching.
4
One could hardly believe it was the same town. The sun was shining as it had a week before and there was nothing the park-keepers could
‘I dinnae ken why they’re being so close wi’ it,’ he said. ‘Mrs Aitken is away hame. It’s no’ a secret.’
‘Out on bail, eh?’ said Alec. ‘Perhaps they fear a mob descending if it’s generally known.’
At that moment another pair of young officers in their civvies came out of the station and stared hard at us in passing.
‘I cannae talk here,’ said McCann. ‘I’ll meet youse roond at the park gates on Pittencrieff Street.’ He pointed. ‘None o’ my brother officers stay oot that way.’
He took off at a good pace and Alec and I followed casually, after an interval. When we reconvened, Constable McCann asked us to walk along with him, saying that his mother would have his tea ready and the dog would get the lot if he was late again.
‘It’s no’ bail she’s got,’ he said when we were under way. ‘She’s let go. She’s innocent. Wee Mirren killt herself, so the doc said anyway.’
‘But I saw her,’ I said, stopping walking until Alec put a hand under my elbow to get me moving again. ‘She was sitting there with the gun in her hand and the blood still dripping. Besides, she confessed.’
‘Aye well,’ said Constable McCann. ‘The thing is, see, the police surgeon took – what d’ye cry them? – swabs. From Mrs Aitken’s hands and from Mirren’s hands an’ a’ and it turns oot they can tell fae the gunpowder how Mirren had fired the gun and her mother hadnae. So there it is.’
‘And the confession?’ I said. We had arrived at McCann’s house it seemed: a small grey cottage in a long terraced row. He stopped at the open front door. From behind a fringed fly curtain, there drifted the smell of bacon and the sound of a wireless.
‘Dr Stott said it happens all the time,’ he said. ‘A suicide and the mammy pretending she did murder.’ He touched his cap and disappeared behind the coloured beads of the curtain.
‘Can you believe that?’ Alec said, looking after him.
I nodded. ‘Thinking back, you know, she practically told me. In subtle code, but all the same. She said she didn’t have the courage to turn the gun upon herself, but she wanted to sit there holding it until the police came, because Mirren was dead and only if they hanged her could she be dead too.’
Alec heaved a sigh up from his boots.
‘What a god-awful mess,’ he said. ‘Poor Aitkens. I wouldn’t be in that house right now for a pension.’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘I was just going to suggest we paid them a visit.’ Alec looked suitably horrified and I hastened to explain.
‘I was supposed to find her, Alec. I was charged with finding her and bringing her home. As awkward as it’s going to be socially—’
‘Awkward!’ Alec squawked and I grimaced, agreeing with him.
‘—professionally, the least I can do is go and acknowledge . . . my complete failure.’
Abbey Park, however, was shut tight against all comers. The gate by which I had entered that morning was closed – locked and padlocked – and the tradesmen’s gate the same. The little lodge had its door locked and windows shuttered, and the house itself was hidden behind its walls.
‘I’ll write to her, then,’ I said, standing peering up at the chimneys, unable to help imagining what scenes of despair might be playing out in those rooms now. I hoped perhaps that Mary would be comforting Abigail, that Bella might have found it in herself to succour Jack, but when I remembered them all at the Emporium, stunned and crumpled by the shock of it, it was only too easy to think that each of the four would be curled up alone in some separate quiet corner, silently aching.
4
One could hardly believe it was the same town. The sun was shining as it had a week before and there was nothing the park-keepers could
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