No Stranger to Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 1 (28 page)

The solicitor spread his hands in silent acquiescence.

‘Mrs Humphreys – Lisa – I need you to tell me something.’

Lisa lifted her head and looked at Mather with swollen eyes.

‘Was Brian Humphreys definitely the father of the child you’re carrying?’

Lisa nodded and looked down at the table again. Mather and Zoe got up to leave Kossoff alone with his client.

The office was as neat as its occupant and the top of his desk as shiny as his shoes. A computer sat on a workstation behind the desk and above this hung a large, wooden-framed map of the Scottish Borders.

Mather showed Zoe to a chair. ‘I’ll call for some tea,’ he said, adding when he saw her expression, ‘Pot, not machine. Real milk.’

Their eyes met as he put the phone down.

‘Bloody hell,’ Zoe said.

‘You had no idea?’

‘Did you? Some situations are unthinkable, and this is one of them.’

‘It will certainly make a difference to the outcome of the case.’

‘I hope so. Lisa is obviously the victim here. She may have participated in a complex concealment of her abuse, but abuse it certainly was.’ Zoe looked hard at Mather, challenging him to come to any other conclusion. She had to wait for his response while their tea was brought in and laid down on the desk by a young constable so nervous he collided with the door before managing to go back through it.

Mather poured the tea with care, putting milk and sugar in front of Zoe before returning to their conversation. ‘The decision isn’t mine, of course. Here in Scotland it’s the role of the Procurator Fiscal to consider what, if any, charges are brought. But I expect that when the full story is known, and taking into account Mrs Humphreys – Lisa – being pregnant, she won’t receive a custodial sentence.’

‘That may be so,’ Zoe said, stirring milk into her cup, ‘but what will her life be like? Brian succeeded in isolating her totally, and now we know why. Having the baby will make things more difficult, not less. She just doesn’t realise it yet.’

‘At least we may be able to trace the rest of her family now.’

‘But will they want to have anything to do with her? I’ve come across cases of parental abuse before, but nothing like this. That poor girl is expecting a baby by her own father. I can’t imagine what the reaction of her relatives will be.’

Mather took a sip of his tea. ‘It’s going to be difficult for her, I agree.’

‘What a mess.’

They concentrated on drinking their tea. As the need to start making polite conversation threatened, they heard a knock at the door and Kossoff was shown into Mather’s office. The solicitor’s previously blustering approach was now replaced by an air of quiet satisfaction. It was evident he too viewed the true extent of his client’s tragedy as her salvation.

Kossoff sat down in the seat Mather indicated to him, but shook his head at the offer of tea. ‘Their real name is Tipping and they originally come from a small village in Hertfordshire,’ he said.

‘That should be enough for us to track down the rest of her family.’ Mather took an A4 pad out of his top drawer and made a brief note. ‘Is there anything else you’re able to share with me?’

‘I have my client’s permission to divulge everything she has now told me.’

Once again Kossoff noisily unlocked his briefcase, but this time he brought out a reporter’s notepad, which he occasionally referred to while speaking. ‘Mrs Tipping – Lisa’s mother – and Lisa’s brother Benjamin were killed in a car crash when the girl was eleven. Her father first had sex with her a few months later. At the age of fourteen, Lisa was taken by Brian to live in Devon. He severed all links with their previous life, and thereafter she took on the role of his wife, a deception they perpetuated when they moved to the Borders eleven months ago. She is only seventeen years of age now.’

‘Brian told everyone she was twenty-three,’ Zoe said. ‘I remember him telling me what a lovely twenty-first birthday party he’d thrown for her.’

‘In my experience,’ Kossoff said, ‘when people tell one big lie, they feel driven to augment it with lesser, totally unnecessary ones. And it’s often the smaller lies which eventually give them away. Though not in this case, of course,’ he added.

‘My client does not know what precipitated their leaving Hertfordshire, but she recalls a serious altercation between Brian and her maternal grandmother about the same time. Her abiding memory of their departure for Devon is of leaving too early in the morning for anyone to be there to say goodbye.’ Kossoff paused, as if to ensure the poignancy of this was not wasted on his audience.

‘A year later, Brian came into some money, inherited, Lisa thinks, from an aunt. That’s how he was able to buy the business in Westerlea.’

‘No doubt choosing the Borders because it’s a long way from Hertfordshire and Devon,’ Zoe said. ‘So they’ve been able to continue living as husband and wife with no one any the wiser.’

‘Not quite.’ Kossoff turned the page of his notepad. Zoe wished he would stop being so dramatic and say what he had to say.

Mather obviously felt the same, speaking for the first time since the solicitor started his narrative. ‘Go on.’

‘When I asked my client if she had confided in anyone in Westerlea about her situation, she said no. However, she did tell me that one of their customers had overheard an argument between herself and her father revealing their true relationship. This happened on the second of November.’

The significance of this date was wasted on no one in the room, although Zoe and Mather responded differently to it. Mather’s eyebrows shot up, but he waited for Kossoff to continue. Zoe, however, could not contain herself.

‘That was only a few days before Chrissie Baird died,’ she said. ‘Was she the customer?’

Kossoff sighed, feigning reluctance to share any further information. He was blatantly enjoying his position centre stage.

‘My client and her father were in the storage area between the shop and their living quarters. Mr, er, Tipping had divined some days earlier that his daughter was pregnant, but they had not discussed the matter in detail. It was past their usual closing time and Lisa was tidying up when her father came through to her and said something to the effect that naturally she would have to have an abortion. My client told him she wanted to think about what was the best thing to do. He got very angry.’

‘I bet he did,’ Zoe said.

‘He berated her for being so stupid as to find herself in this situation,’ Kossoff continued, ignoring the interruption. ‘He told her she would get them both into trouble, then shouted something along the lines of, “What will you tell the child to call me – Daddy or Grandpa?” As he fell silent, they heard footsteps and the shop door open then close.’

Kossoff paused for longer than he credibly needed to catch his breath or wet his lips. Even Mather became impatient. ‘Get a move on, Chris,’ he muttered. ‘Tell us who it was who overheard that conversation.’

The solicitor had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘I have no idea,’ he admitted. ‘Lisa says Brian rushed through the shop and out of the front door, but claimed not to have seen anyone.’

‘You use the word “claimed”,’ Zoe said. ‘Didn’t Lisa believe him?’

‘That is the precise word she used. I realise it could be important, that Brian may have lied to her. However, I didn’t want to question her more closely about it today. Despite everything, my client’s natural tendency is still to defend her father’s actions. If a link exists between that episode and what happened to Mrs Baird a few days later, I respectfully suggest it is up to you, DCI Mather, to establish it.’

Mather was about to respond when his telephone rang. He picked it up, listened, then said a few words. On finishing the call he stood up. ‘I’m needed elsewhere. Thank you both for your help. I’ll send someone to see you out.’

A few minutes later, having been escorted to the station’s front door, Zoe asked Kossoff, ‘What will happen to Lisa now?’

‘Because this case is so complex there will have to be a judicial examination.’

‘What does that involve?’

‘Essentially, it means a meeting in chambers with the Procurator Fiscal and the Sheriff. They can question Lisa – don’t worry, I’ll be there with her – before a decision is reached on what she’ll be charged with.’

‘Will this help her case?’

‘Very definitely. It’s not a cross-examination, they can only ask a restricted range of questions. But we’ll be able to outline her defence, the intolerable circumstances under which she found herself, and the Fiscal will be obliged to investigate these and take them into account.’

‘This is your area of expertise,’ Zoe said. ‘So I guess I must let you get on with it. Though I really wish I could do more to help Lisa myself.’

‘You have already done more than anyone else, Doctor Moreland. After all, you unlocked her deepest secret, didn’t you?’ Kossoff held out his hand and Zoe shook it, then the solicitor strode away to his car.

Chapter 36

Back at Keeper’s Cottage, Zoe tried to reach Neil on his mobile. It went straight to voicemail so she left a brief message telling him she would call again later. Then she led Mac out to the hire car for the short drive to Tolbyres.

Etta Mackenzie’s kitchen at Tolbyres Farmhouse was an expanded version of her daughter’s and must have been a major undertaking for Peter and Neil to fit out. The Aga – seemingly mandatory in the Scottish Borders – was half as wide again as Kate’s, and there was an additional full-size sink. Above the highly-polished dining table, which could seat up to fourteen, hung photographs of Kate and her brothers at their respective weddings and a montage of images of their children.

Zoe sat down, her offer to help Etta with her preparations for the meal having been refused. As usual, Kate and her mother were better informed than they ought to be. News had leaked out about Lisa’s pregnancy and they knew Zoe had been to Hawick that afternoon to see her. Ignoring Brian’s fate, what they wanted to know was how Lisa was holding up.

‘She’s as well as can be expected.’ Zoe waited to be challenged on this noncommittal reply, but Etta was crumbling a stock cube into a saucepan and Kate’s grasshopper mind had already moved on.

‘You may find this hard to believe,’ she said, ‘but until recent events there hadn’t been a murder in Westerlea since July 1899, when the blacksmith flew into a jealous rage and smothered his wife with her own shawl.’

‘Let’s hope this is the last one the village ever sees,’ Zoe said.

‘At least there’s no way Lisa killing Brian can be linked to what happened to the Bairds,’ Kate said.

Zoe did not trust herself to comment. Since leaving Hawick, she had been unable to stop thinking about the possibility that these events were connected. It might simplify matters if Brian was responsible for Chrissie Baird’s death. On the other hand, if she was the mystery person who overheard him shouting at Lisa in the stockroom and he killed her as a result, would the police ever find sufficient evidence of this to close the case? And how did that explain Jimmy’s death and the attempt on Zoe’s own life?

Etta looked up from stirring a saucepan of gravy. Her face was very red. ‘I feel so bad for the poor wee thing. She needed help. I should have done something.’

‘No one could have predicted it would go that far, Mum,’ Kate said. ‘Not even Zoe, and she knew about the baby.’

Zoe nodded. That at least was true.

‘Lisa’s lucky to have Chris Kossoff representing her. Remember, Mum, how he helped out Aline Morton’s son with that spot of bother last year?’

‘Even so, I wish . . . ‘

Etta’s voice trailed off. She bent down to open an oven door, and the smell of garlic, rosemary and lamb billowed into the room.

‘Is there anyone in the Borders you two don’t know?’ Zoe asked, wanting to move the conversation on from Lisa and Brian. When the full story came out, as it must, Kate was going to give her a hard time for not sharing all the facts.

‘There’s a young couple who moved down from Edinburgh to Duns last week,’ Kate said. ‘Mum’s still trying to find out about them, but give her time.’

‘Don’t forget it was you who told me first about Saturday night’s goings-on,’ Etta said, walking to the sink. Her face disappeared in a cloud of steam as she tipped a large quantity of potatoes into a colander, then returned them to the saucepan.

Splashes of colour appeared on Kate’s face. ‘I only knew that something had happened at the shop. You got the gory details from Auntie Phil, remember?’

At that moment, the door opened and Eva rushed in, stopping Zoe from pressing Kate about the source of her information. Although she already had her suspicions.

‘How long will dinner be?’ Eva asked. ‘We’re starving, and so’s Mac.’

‘Not long now,’ Etta said. ‘Ask Granddad to come through and champ the tatties for me, will you? Then you can all wash your hands and sit down.’

Eva ran out of the room, shouting to Mac that he must wash his paws.

‘We’ve done well to get this long without them,’ Kate said. She started to lay the table.

‘Will you be coming to the Bairds’ funeral on Tuesday, Zoe?’ Etta asked as she stirred the steaming saucepan of gravy. ‘It’ll likely be a good turnout, although most people will be there to pay their respects to Jimmy rather than Chrissie.’

‘Do you think I should? I didn’t really know them.’

‘It’s expected of you.’

The children and their grandfather arrived and took their seats around the dining table. Mac sat under it.

Once everyone had been served their food, Frankie turned to Zoe. ‘Did you see the body?’ he asked.

‘Frankie!’ his mother scolded.

‘We all know Lisa killed Brian,’ Frankie said. ‘Why can’t we ask Zoe about it? She was there.’

Ranald Mackenzie looked up from the heaped plate his wife had put in front of him. ‘It’s not a suitable topic for the dinner table.’

‘So will you let her tell us about it when we’ve finished eating?’

‘Frankie, be more thoughtful. Zoe probably wants to forget about it,’ Etta said.