‘I’m sure I’m right,’ I said. ‘The family and the Fiscal. Sergeant Simpson repeated that twice or three times, lording it over us who are neither. But what he forgot is that the Fiscal who swallowed the story – the one in Dumfries – is not the Fiscal who’ll have to sign the order. He’s in Edinburgh. If you can persuade the Addies to ask him – and of course you can; they adore you – then surely… Well, I’m not sure, to be honest, but I’d wager a modest sum. He probably feels some professional loyalty, but he probably feels some rivalry too and when we get right down to it his first duty is to the citizenry under his care. To wit, Addie and Bowie née. I’ll bet you I’m right, Alec.’
‘And my job is to go to these respectable people and suggest digging the old girl up and having a poke about to see what we can see,’ Alec said. We were standing at the front door of the Hydro. He looked up at it, sighed and consulted his watch. ‘I wish there was a bar in there,’ he said. ‘I hope they’ll bring a whisky and soda to the drawing room. Meanwhile what are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to get into that locked room if it kills me,’ I said. ‘I’m half convinced that’s where Mrs Addie died. There might still be clues.’
Before that, though, there was a very difficult conversation to be had. I begged Alec to be there and to promise not to leave no matter what happened. Quite simply, now that we thought Mrs Addie had been murdered I could no longer countenance Donald and Teddy spending their days at the Hydro. I could not claim to be too keen on the guinea pig end of things either, if it came to that, and it lent me the courage to speak, just not enough to speak without Alec there to protect me.
‘Hugh,’ I said, joining him at a tea table in the drawing room. He had a whisky and soda, I was interested to see, although the boys were tussling with a silver teapot and a three-tiered stand of bread-and-butter, griddle cakes and meringues.
‘Boys,’ I said. ‘Slop out that dishwater and let me pour you a nice hot cup then load up your plates and run along. I need to speak to Daddy.’ This was a great treat, for of course they had been trained from the days when their bread was served in soldiers to affect ignorance of the higher, sweeter tiers until the duller fare was gone. I was rather horrified to see them immediately build towers of cake on their tea plates, but I simply poured the tea, told them they could not have sugar in it and waited until they took themselves off to a window seat with a view of the bowling.
‘Now then, Hugh,’ I said. ‘How are you feeling?’
Hugh gave a quick glance towards Alec. It was low of me to force him to speak of his health in front of another man, and a neighbour come to that.
‘Perfectly well, Dandy,’ he said. ‘Thank you for asking.’
I sighed. ‘I mean are you feeling the better for having come here?’
‘Oh, tremendously so,’ he said. ‘I’ve been telling you for years that water treatment is the thing. The boys are vastly improved too.’ I smiled and tried not to think about how angry he would be if he ever found out about the snake oil.
‘Well, just remember that as you listen to what I’m going to tell you,’ I said. ‘And remember too that I rented a house. I didn’t suggest we stayed here. Remember that, please.’
Hugh took a contemplative sip from his glass. Alec looked away and ordered a drink of his own from a maid who was passing.
‘Go on,’ Hugh said.
‘Yes, now you see, the thing is,’ I said. ‘What I mean to say is – and you’ve probably already guessed because not much gets past you and I have seen you laughing once or twice and not sharing the joke.’ If I hoped to butter him up with this, I hoped in vain. All I did was make him suspect I knew about the casino. Not much gets past him, as I say. ‘The thing is that Alec and I are working.’
‘On a case,’ Alec said.
‘Fraud?’ said Hugh, quite loudly. I took it to mean that he had not cashed in his winnings and was trusting Laidlaw with whatever sum he had racked up to date.
‘Ah, no,’ I said. ‘Nor theft – which would be dreadful, nothing worse than a hotel where one’s belongings aren’t safe. Remember that terrible place in Paris? With the drains?’
‘Something less dreadful than theft then?’ he said. ‘I hope it’s going to pay enough to cover the cost of you both rushing down here. Or did it arise after we came?’
‘No, no,’ I said. ‘It was certainly partly responsible for my suggesting decamping to here. But mostly it was you and the boys. And Pallister and Mrs Tilling too.’
‘And what is this crime – if it even is a crime – that’s not so bad as maids pilfering cufflinks?’ he said.
‘An odd end to a patient’s treatment,’ I said. Did he know already? Had he guessed and begun toying with me?
‘Seems to me there are only two ends,’ Hugh said. He had guessed, damn him. ‘Recovery or… death.’
‘Yes,’ I said and then hurried on. I judged it best to keep talking and get everything out at once. ‘A death. A woman, though, a good bit older than you, and much, much older than the boys, with a very different complaint – bad back and a tendency towards stoutness which she was being treated for with surely completely different treatments from those you’d need if it were your lungs and a long illness like the boys and you. And besides I’m telling you today because I think the boys should leave now that we’ve decided that it’s… that is, now that there’s a chance that what happened was perhaps that she was… murdered. Weeks ago.’ I think it was that last point that pushed him over the edge. He set down his glass with a smack that drew attention from several of the other tea tables. I had to calm myself with a few very deep breaths before I dared to look him in the face and when I did it was to see that he was smiling. More than smiling; he was laughing. A silent laugh with shaking shoulders, which I had only ever seen before when he recounted stories from George at the club.
‘I actually thought we must be iller than the doctors would tell us,’ he said, ‘when you suddenly dragged us off down here. It kept me awake one night. But now all is revealed.’ All except the hot water and radiators at Gilverton, I thought, giving him a sickly grin. Hugh turned to Alec. ‘Are we in any danger, old man?’
Alec shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t have thought so,’ he replied. ‘It was one old lady and the place is filled to the rafters with guests. No one else has died recently.’
It was a perfect example of the stiff upper lip and Hugh met it with its cousin, the soaring understatement.
‘Ticklish about the boys, mind you,’ he said. ‘But a little old lady…’
‘She was rather a large old lady, actually,’ I said.
‘We could always tell them,’ said Alec. ‘Put them on their guard.’ I was shaking my head before he had finished speaking.
‘They’d be out in the shrubbery bent double with magnifying glasses and we’d be completely undone,’ I said. ‘I really do think they should go.’
‘As you wish,’ Hugh said. ‘Shall we send Mrs Tilling back with them? Shall you eat here with me?’
‘Not home to Gilverton,’ I said. I was beginning to be aware of a throbbing at my temples. ‘I meant they could stay at Auchenlea.’
‘I’m for them carrying on with the treatments,’ said Hugh. ‘Let’s tell them to be on their guard – perhaps say that there’s been a suspicious stranger lurking about. But I’m for staying on a while anyway.’
‘Oh, Hugh, how can you?’ I said, losing all patience. ‘I know exactly why you’re “for staying”. I know all about Tot Laidlaw’s grubby little enterprise. But how you can throw your own sons to-’ I was on thin ice there and so I regrouped. ‘How can they be on their guard if they’re lying on tables covered with mustard wraps or with electric I don’t-know-whats attached to their arms and legs?’