Never Let Me Down Again: A John Milton Thriller by Dawson Mark

Author:Dawson, Mark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unputdownable
Published: 2021-06-24T16:00:00+00:00

47

Milton got back to Harris in the early afternoon and drove across the island to the hotel. He parked at the rear of the building and went round to Chrissie’s caravan. It was quiet, and there was no answer when he knocked. The kitchen door was open, and Milton crossed the yard and went inside. Bobby had filled the sink with soapy water and was washing the glasses by hand.

“Afternoon,” he said.

“Afternoon.”

“Where’s the boss?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“She didn’t. What’s going on?”

“She’s gone to Glasgow.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask me—she wouldn’t tell the likes of me her business.”

“When did she say she’ll be back?”

“Tomorrow.”

Milton pointed to the oven; its display was still dead. “What about the electrician?”

“He’s coming in an hour. We’re closed for tonight, though.”

“I’ve got a smoker in the back of the van, and I need to get it in here. Give me a hand, will you?”

Bobby finished the last of the glasses and left them to dry on the draining board. He followed Milton out to the van and, between them, they hauled the heavy oven into a space that had been cleared for it next to the dishwasher.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Milton said as he removed the cardboard packaging. “You’ve lived on the island a while, haven’t you?”

“Aye. All my life.”

Milton gently pushed the oven back into its space. “Who owned the hotel before Chrissie?”

“John and Ruthie MacGovern. They’d had it for years and years. Before I was born, anyway.”

“And Chrissie only recently came to the island?”

“That’s right. She’s not local. I mean—the accent gives that away, right?”

“Right,” Milton said. “What happened? She just turned up?”

“John died, and Ruthie put the place up for auction. A lad I know was interested in buying it, turned up on the day ready to put in his offer, but he said he never got a sniff. There was a phone bidder, and they kept increasing the price until he couldn’t go any higher. There was another bidder in the room—I think it was someone from the mainland—and it was him and the phone bidder left in it. My pal says that whoever it was on the phone had deep pockets, because there was never any hesitation on bidding up, even when they were well past what the place was supposed to have been worth.”

“Who was the bidder?”

“Can I have a fag?” Bobby said. Milton took out his box and tossed it over. Bobby took a cigarette out, held it between his lips and lit it. “She’ll kill me if she thinks I’ve been talking about her business behind her back.”

“It can just be between us, then.”

Milton followed as Bobby went outside. “Chrissie turned up a week later. No one had ever seen her before. It’d be fair to say she wasn’t the most popular person on the island.”

“Why?”

“The local lad she outbid is a good sort, and no one liked the idea of outsiders taking the place over. She worked hard, though. Tarted the place up and got it open again. Made a real effort to fit in with the community—she hired local when she could.

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