know about your nephew’s suspicions regarding Mr Campbell’s death,’ Coull said. ‘He was here two days ago, telling us the whole story. I should say it was quite a tale. Something about a salmon poacher working the loch at the time of the alleged incident. Also about some gold coins that were in Mr Campbell’s possession.’ Coull added the last part with a raised eyebrow and an expectant tone.
Ewan’s visit to Fort William police station was news to Boonzie. The gold coins were even more so. He said nothing for a moment as he wondered why Ewan hadn’t mentioned them. It could all have happened since they’d last spoken, while Boonzie was attending to certain matters before setting off.
‘I gather you and he have been in contact,’ Macleod said. ‘Just out of interest, he didn’t happen to mention anything about the coins to you, did he? Such as, where exactly Mr Campbell might have found them?’
It sounded to Boonzie as though the cops were fishing for particular information here, though he had no idea what or why. ‘No, it’s the first I’ve heard o’ it. What’ve gold coins got to do with this?’
‘I’m afraid that’s a police matter,’ Macleod said, clamping on the lid with something that looked a little too much like a satisfied smile. ‘Concerning a separate investigation.’
Thirty-three years in the military, twenty-six of them as an NCO climbing up the ranks of the British Army’s most elite regiment, had honed Boonzie’s skill at reading people. Neither Macleod nor Coull was making a good impression on him. He sensed they were holding back. He didn’t like being kept in the dark.
‘A separate investigation? So ye’re saying ye dinnae see these two cases as connected?’
‘Again, it’s too early to say, Mr McCulloch,’ Coull replied in a smarmy, condescending tone that made the bristles on the back of Boonzie’s neck prickle even more. Coull added, ‘And as we’re not generally in the habit of divulging the details of our ongoing police investigations to the public, might I suggest that you go home and let us take care of it? Rest assured, we’ll find the men who did this.’
Boonzie grunted. ‘Aye, we’ve heard that shite before.’
Macleod said sharply, ‘Meaning what?’
‘Meaning that I havnae come all the way here from Italy tae be given the brush-off, while my nephew’s lyin’ in a hospital bed wi’ a face like raw minced steak an’ a stoved-in heid he might never recover from. Ye’ve had two long days tae investigate what Ewan told ye aboot the poacher, and it seems tae me as though ye’ve done bugger all but sit on yer big fat arse’ – pointing first at Macleod, then swivelling his accusatory finger like a turret-mounted fifty-cal Browning to aim at Coull – ‘and yer wee scrawny arse.’
With the cops momentarily too stunned and outraged to utter a reply, Boonzie glowered at them both with steely disapproval and added, ‘There’s more tae this than meets the eye, and if the police cannae be bothered tae find out what, then I damn well will.’
Standing in the background, Grace Kirk hadn’t spoken a word. Boonzie thought he saw a flicker of amusement curl her lip, but then she quickly suppressed it.
There were no such smiles from the two detectives. Macleod was the first to bounce back. ‘You’re not showing a lot of respect for officers of the law, Mr McCulloch.’
‘Ye get what ye’re due, son. Nae mair, nae less.’
‘I hope you’re not getting ideas about pursuing any sort of private citizen’s inquiry,’ Coull said, with cheeks flushed the colour of cheap wine. ‘The police take a very dim view of that kind of thing.’
‘Then ye’d best stay oot ma road,’ Boonzie grated. ‘There’s nae room for amateurs in this kind of business.’
‘You’re warned, McCulloch!’ Macleod stood up aggressively from his chair. He was four inches taller and considerably wider than Boonzie, and was all hard-eyed and tensed up like a silverback gorilla ready to attack. It was a display of intimidation most men would have shrunk away from, but Boonzie did not shrink away. He stared at Macleod, calm and cold, and kept staring until the cop seemed to deflate and sat down again without another word.
At which point, the discussion was over. ‘I’m sorry, lassie,’ Boonzie said to Grace, and walked out of the room.
Grace caught up with him again in a quiet corridor as he made his way back towards the station reception. Boonzie said, ‘I suppose ye’re gonnae give me a hard time for what happened in there.’
She shook her head, more in disbelief than in disagreement, and despite all the sadness of the moment he saw the same twinkle of mirth on her face as she’d tried to mask in the interview room. ‘Honestly, Mr McCulloch. What a way to speak to my superiors. Big fat arse and wee scrawny arse?’
‘Didnae take it too well, did they?’
‘You tell it like you see it, that’s for sure.’
‘Is there any other way?’
‘What was all that stuff about a salmon poacher? I didn’t understand.’
Boonzie was often slow to trust people, but he got a good feeling about Grace Kirk. He briefly ran through what Ewan had told him about the strange phone call he’d received the evening of Ross’s funeral.
‘Do you think it’s true?’ she asked, deeply perplexed.
‘Ewan’s nae liar.’
‘But was the poacher telling the truth? What if it was just a stupid hoax? Some idiot calling to stir things up?’
‘I dinnae think so. Ewan thought he knew him.’
Grace stared at Boonzie. ‘Knew him? From where? Who is this person?’
‘Ewan couldnae place the name,’ Boonzie said. ‘All we know is, the poacher is someone with a secret. Who needed tae get it off his chest and warn Ewan tae watch his back.’
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘The whole thing is insane. This is Kinlochardaich. Murders don’t happen here.’
‘Until the day they do,’ Boonzie replied.
‘And what’s with the gold coins? I didn’t understand that part either.’
‘Nor me, hen. Ewan never mentioned anything.’
‘I don’t like this one bit. Please. I’m asking you. Won’t you just go home and let the police handle this situation?’
Boonzie’s face hardened like granite. He replied, ‘I came here tae help Ewan. It’s too late for that. But I’m no leavin’ until I find the people who did this.’
Grace could see that no force on earth could change his mind. She paused, glanced over her shoulder as though to check nobody was watching, then quickly took a slip of paper from her pocket and pressed it into his hand. It was a grocery receipt, on the back of which she’d scribbled a phone number.
‘That’s my personal mobile. Will you call me if you need anything?’
Boonzie said, ‘Like what?’
She flushed slightly, shrugged. ‘Ewan and I … we were close once, a long time ago. We weren’t much more than kids back then. Anyway, he often used to talk about you. Said you were like a father to him. After what’s happened I just thought – just between you and me, you know? – that if there’s anything I can do to help …’
Boonzie was touched by her words. It didn’t surprise him to hear that she and his nephew had known each other better than she’d let on at first. He didn’t miss a lot, and had noticed the way she talked about Ewan. He also got the impression that she