Argyles and Arsenic by Molly MacRae

Author:Molly MacRae
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pegasus Books
Published: 2022-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

15

David bustled around when Christine and Janet arrived. He fed Janet a nice piece of leftover salmon, for which she was grateful, put on his best cardigan, and set glasses and a bottle of single malt on a side table. When the doorbell rang, he insisted on answering it himself. He brought the inspector into the living room.

“A pleasure to see you, Mrs. MacLean. Thank you for letting me barge in like this and monopolize your evening.”

He sounded tired and smudges under his eyes showed his long hours. The Normans were both upright in their posture and approach to policing. If the two were birds, Janet saw Hobbs as a stork, steady of eye and careful with each long-legged step: Reddick had the quicker movements, though just as cunning, of a merlin or kestrel. He was more compact than Hobbs, with the build of a gymnast, and younger by a decade or so. Of the two, Reddick was more likely to spring into action than sit down for a cup of tea, but he enjoyed one now and then, or a tipple. Now he accepted a glass of single malt from David, with thanks, and sat in the chair across from the sofa Helen, Christine, and Janet sat on.

“Mrs. MacLean, Mrs. Robertson, Mrs. Marsh,” Reddick toasted them. “Thank you for indulging me this evening. What I’d like you to do is think back over the evening of Violet MacAskill’s party and then take me through it. Is that all right?”

The women agreed, though Christine asked him to tread carefully with Helen’s memories.

“Of course,” Reddick said. “Call me off at any point.”

“I don’t mind things as well as I used to,” Helen said.

“We forget where we leave our heads, sometimes, don’t we, love?” David said. He turned to Reddick. “She’s been having nightmares since the party.”

“I mind that night, but it’s more than that,” Helen said. “Now my mum and dad come and hold out their hands to me. It’s a sign, but David and I aren’t ready to stop our dancing yet, are we, love?”

Janet was touched to see Christine take her mother’s hand and hold it in both of hers. She knew Christine didn’t believe in signs and omens, but Helen seemed to believe in them more and more. Christine, who fiercely battled for reason over emotion, would just as fiercely protect her mother from whatever Helen thought the signs and omens meant.

“Where should we start?” Christine asked.

“Let’s start when you arrived. A general outline is fine. I’ll ask questions when you’re done. So, what did you do and what and who did you see?”

“That pickup truck,” Helen said.

Christine told him about the impatient driver spewing gravel as it sped around them.

“I never did ask,” Janet said. “Did you find your warm pickup when you went looking?”

Christine thought for a moment. “No,” she said. “I didn’t. I was interrupted mid-pursuit. And I must say, Janet, that asking if someone scored a warm pickup is an off-color question in polite company.

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