“Tell me about it.”
“Well, I was putting away some drums when this guy strolled through the back door. I didn’t even know he was there until I looked back. He started talking to me as if we were old buddies. He might have been a cop.”
“Did you see any ID?”
“No, but he had that sort of feel. You know what they’re like: big, clean cut, and even when they’re wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt, it looks like a uniform. Said he wanted to rent some equipment for a charity gig he was involved in. His accent was sort of strange, too, like he was trying to imitate a Canadian.”
“What sort of questions was he asking?”
“How long I’ve worked there. Do I like the job. Stuff like that.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him you’re the best employer in the world and that I love working for you.”
I snorted. “Anything else?”
“He wanted to know how busy we are and whether we rent stuff internationally. I thought that was a bit odd.”
“And how did the conversation end?”
“He took the price list I made up for him and said he’d get back to us after he’d checked around with some other places.”
“And you think he was a cop? Could he have been something else?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know...”
“Are you in some kind of trouble, Michael?” Kevin asked, actually using my name for the first time in memory.
“I wish I knew.” I made a decision I’d been mulling over since the conversation had taken this extreme left turn. “Did he ask about that young lady who came in the other day?”
“You mean the one who slugged you?”
I winced. It was only natural that Regina would always be ‘the woman who slugged the boss’ to my staff. “Yeah.”
“The subject never came up.”
Something about the way he said it made me think that Kevin hadn’t been completely truthful.
***
>I had too many things to ponder to sit still in a hotel room, and since I’d told Regina that I’d call her at one p.m. Toronto time, I decided to take a walk through Dunoon and try to sort things out in my head while I waited.
Dunoon had once been a “holiday destination”. Being close to Glasgow and on the water had assured it of a steady flow of visitors during the high season. When that had collapsed due to the rise of cheap package holidays to Spain, the nearby US submarine base had picked up most of the slack. With the Yanks now also gone, the little town is slowly slipping into the twilight.
I stood for over an hour at the sea wall looking out over the Firth of Clyde. It struck me ironically that I enjoy being around open water, but somehow just can’t manage to be on it.
Across the firth, I could see the lights of Gourock in the early winter evening, and my thoughts were drawn back to the scene etched in my memory by that morning’s trip. What had happened at Angus’s farmhouse? I was certain it had something to do with Regina, but which group of men was it? Was her father responsible for the murder? Was it the other group of men, and who were they anyway? Most importantly, had Angus told them what they wanted to know before they killed him?
Then there was DCI Campbell. I could hear Angus’s voice in my ear. “Never trust a Campbell, laddie! As it was in Glen Coe, it shall always be with that clan.” Clearly Campbell, trustworthy or not, had guessed I knew more about the murder than I had told him. That had been why he’d taken me up there, why he’d shown me everything. Had he expected I’d fall to pieces and confess?
Looked at logically, if I had told him what I did know, where would that put him? Regina would probably be able to identify someone out of the six who’d accosted us in Birmingham, but how could we know if they’d been the ones who’d shown up at Loch Striven?
If Angus hadn’t been slain by “Group #1”, then what? Neither Regina nor I could identify the other three. I don’t think I would have recognized any of them if they’d walked up to me right then and there.
Suddenly, looking around, I realized that I was the only person in sight at the moment. If those blokes were around, I’d be easy pickings. With untoward haste, I scurried to the nearest pub, where I would hopefully find safety in numbers and elucidation at the bottom of a pint glass.
***
“I’ve been on pins and needles all day long, Michael!” Regina exclaimed when I got her on the phone. “What’s happening?”
It took me a good thirty minutes to lay it all out. I knew which way I was hoping she’d jump about what to do next, and I tried to angle the discussion in that direction, but she didn’t pick up on it.
“Poor Angus,” she said softly when I’d finished. “Do you really think it could have been my father’s men?”
“That’s where we’re in pretty murky water. It could have been...and it would explain why Angus had to die. If he’d been left around to tell someone what information they’d wanted, they would be in serious trouble. If it was the second group of men, then I just don’t know. But whoever was responsible, the sad truth is that Angus had to die.”
“Why?
“To keep the information from the other group.”
Regina didn’t speak right away, and when she did, it had a quiet intensity I could hear clearly from three thousand miles away. “In your heart of hearts, do you think Angus would have told them what they wanted to know?”
I had known she would ask that question, and I’d been pondering it all day myself. Angus would have been aware of how dangerous that would be, but he had no idea at the time they showed up at his house where Regina was. He only knew where I was.
“I certainly hope not.”
“What about the man who came to your business today?”
“Perhaps Campbell has someone nosing around. He kept bringing up drugs. Maybe he thinks Angus and I are... were involved in the drug trade, something like that. If it was the police at my business, they’re looking for something on me. It won’t be long before they’re also looking for you, though. They know you exist—”
“How?”
“You left hair samples all over Angus’s house. In the shower, for instance. Other places, too.”
“They know about that?”
“Not from anything I said. I told them the sheets weren’t fresh, and I’d been too lazy to change them. If they wanted to press things, though, I suppose I could be asked to give a DNA sample, and that could be matched up to what we undoubtedly left on the sheets, and then with the hairs you left in the shower. My employees can identify you. How do I explain all that?” I ended bluntly.
“No, Michael! I do not want to be brought into this. I can’t be. These people are after me!”
My anger with Regina, building as the day had progressed, suddenly boiled over. “I certainly wish you’d thought to tell Angus that before you left!” I spat out angrily.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, even though we both should have thought things through a lot better, it’s you those thugs were after. Don’t you regret anything about what’s happened? My friend is dead because I brought you to his house!”
“Michael I...I know that. It’s just...”
“Whose side are you on, anyway? Are you trying to protect your father or something?”
There