No Stranger to Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 1 (35 page)

BOOK: No Stranger to Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 1
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‘You’ve succeeded. Anyone can tell how close you and Kate are.’

‘It wasn’t always that way. I thought we’d lost her, when she told us she planned to marry Kenneth and go to live down in London. We were so relieved she had the sense to come home when things didn’t work out.’

‘She was lucky to have you to come back to.’

‘Do you miss having a family, Zoe?’

‘I sometimes wonder what it would be like.’

‘Perhaps you’ll marry into a big family next time.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Kate tells me you aren’t just buying a kitchen from Neil Pengelly.’ Etta spoke nonchalantly, but Zoe got the feeling she had been hoping to manoeuvre their conversation around to this.

‘It’s early days. I doubt it’ll come to anything.’

‘How do you get on with his brother?’ Still the offhand tone, but Etta had started to tap her empty milk container on the table.

‘Peter? All right I suppose. Why do you ask?’

Tap, tap, tap. ‘You’ll think I’m interfering.’

‘No I won’t. What do you want to tell me?’

Tap, tap, tap. ‘My friend Nancy stays in Berwick and has a daughter, Ellie. She’s a wee bit younger than you, and went out with Neil last year. Don’t misunderstand me, he treated her well and she was head over heels in love with him although I don’t think he took it as seriously. Then, all of a sudden, she ended it.’

Zoe felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. ‘Why did she do that?’

Tap, tap. ‘Try as she might, Nancy couldn’t find out. All she knew was that the last time Elly came home from Larimer Hall, as well as being very upset she seemed frightened.’

 

 

Chapter 45

Although Keeper’s Cottage was merely a stopgap until Zoe could move into the coach house, it had started to feel like home, despite its dodgy heating and feline squatter. Today, though, closing the front door was not enough to keep away the unease she had felt since her conversation with Kate’s mother in the hospital café. On the way back, she nearly convinced herself there was a simple explanation for one of Neil’s previous girlfriends suddenly not wanting to see him any more, but once she was inside, Etta’s words surged through her mind again.

Did Peter warn off young Ellie too?

Zoe had no appetite for lunch, so thought she might as well go into work early and catch up on some paperwork. Yet more insurance forms had magically appeared on her desk shortly before Walter took off for Wales again. Finishing those would give him one less thing to complain about this afternoon.

As she neared the health centre, apprehension about Walter’s hastily convened meeting took centre stage in Zoe’s mind. Even following a vehicle whose spare-tyre cover boasted that its driver had been ‘Spreading Muck in the Borders for 25 Years’ failed to make her smile. Unlike those who found solace in their domestic lives, Zoe had always relied on work as a diversion during troubled times. Her morale already battered on several fronts, she feared she might be driving home later without even the comfort of a job.

Margaret waved from reception without interrupting her telephone conversation. The waiting room was empty and in a side office further along the corridor, Jean was bending down at the stationery cupboard. She did not look up when Zoe called out a greeting. There was no sign of Paul or Walter.

Concentrating on filling in a too-small box on a patient’s critical-illness insurance claim, Zoe only realised someone else was in the room when a heap of repeat prescription forms was placed on the corner of her desk. She looked up.

‘Hello Jean. How are you?’

Jean grasped the crucifix hanging around her neck, ran it back and forth along its chain and stared at the floor. ‘Not very good, Doctor, if you must know.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Tom’s moved out.’ The girl raised her head, revealing eyes swollen from crying. ‘We won’t be getting married now.’

‘Oh Jean, I’m so sorry.’

‘You shouldn’t be surprised. Seeing as it was you who sent him to that horrible man.’

Shocked at Jean’s bitter tone, Zoe asked, ‘Do you mean Chris Kossoff?’

‘Both of you wanted Tom to tell me what happened when he went to Edinburgh that night. So he did. And now I can’t bear to look at him.’

‘Here,’ Zoe indicated the chair on the other side of her desk, ‘sit down. Let’s talk about this. I’ve got time before surgery starts.’

‘No. Thank you.’ Jean stood immobile, the crucifix still gripped between her right thumb and forefinger. ‘When Tom got arrested and Mum died, I thought things couldn’t get any worse. But they have.’ She let out a sob and fled from the room.

Rising to go after her, Zoe heard Margaret’s voice out in the corridor. ‘There, there, hen. Come with me and I’ll make us both a nice cup of tea.’

Zoe sat down and put her head in her hands. She had only wanted to help, but instead her intervention had made things far worse.
Poor Jean. It was never a good idea to think you had reached rock bottom. There was always some way to go
.

Looking up again, she slid the insurance form to one side and tried to focus on the list of patients she was due to see that afternoon. Her eyes were immediately drawn to one name: Gregor Baird. He probably wanted more of the medication she had prescribed to help him sleep.

Two patients mentioned seeing Zoe at the Bairds’ funeral, but for the first surgery in a long time most of the people who came through her door were more intent on describing their ailments than trying to engage her in conversation. Being worried tended to make her impatient, so she consciously fought the urge to hurry things along and gave everyone as much time as they wanted. As a result, she was a few minutes late fetching Gregor from the waiting room.

He wore a white T-shirt over black trousers, topped off with a faded denim jacket. As before, the scent of freshly laundered clothes hung about him.

Zoe did her best to summon up a smile. ‘What can I do for you today?’

‘More of those pills would be good.’

Despite their fetching colour, the stare from his blue eyes made Zoe uncomfortable. She tried to hold Gregor’s gaze, but eventually looked away, pretending to read what was on her computer screen.

‘Have they helped the problem at all?’

‘You mean the problem of people like you thinking me ‘n’ Alice killed our parents?’

‘No, I mean not being able to sleep.’

‘If they had, why would I be here?’

‘I don’t know. Is there something else you want?’ Zoe felt in no mood to play games.

Gregor sat back in his chair and folded his arms. ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you?’

This time Zoe did not retaliate. She had learned early in her career that the best way to handle insults from a patient is silence. However much they huffed and puffed, eventually they blew themselves out.

‘Sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted.’

Still she said nothing.

‘Sending that numpty Tom to your smart-arse solicitor.’

Zoe pursed her lips.
If he wanted an argument, he could have one.

‘You and Alice aren’t happy that Tom’s called her bluff, are you? And with you both suspects in your parents’ murders, she doesn’t stand a chance of taking the twins away from him now he has Chris Kossoff on his side.’

‘You’re not as clever as you think. The police know we didn’t kill them. There’s proof.’

‘You mean the credit card statement showing where Chrissie was going the day she disappeared?’

Gregor scowled, those blue eyes narrowed. ‘I knew that deaf bint was watching us. It’s creepy how she snoops around lip-reading people’s private conversations. No, the police had already sussed out where Chrissie was supposed to be.’

‘How?’

‘Her phone records, of course. And the cash they found in the car.’

‘Cash?’

His tongue loosened by triumph at knowing more than Zoe, Gregor did not hesitate to answer. ‘Three hundred and fifty pounds – exactly what she needed to pay for the spa break she’d booked at some poncey hotel in Durham. The old man must’ve been slipping to let her stash that much away.’

Zoe stared at the screen in front of her, seeing nothing.
A spa break. That’s all it was? No secret lover, just Chrissie getting away for a bit of pampering?

Gregor’s voice brought her back.

‘Like a priest, aren’t you? You can’t pass on what I say. So here’s something for you to chew on.’ His eyes challenged Zoe to try to stop him.

She would not give him the satisfaction.

‘I know the dirty-minded people round here reckon me ‘n Alice are more than brother and sister. I bet you do too. Well you’re all wrong.’ He paused; Zoe remained silent. ‘It was her mother I was shagging. Almost since the day she arrived here. We used to really enjoy putting on a show, making folk think we hated each other.’

He smirked, but then his expression shifted briefly to sadness, revealing the true reason why he could not sleep. Gregor Baird was mourning the woman he had secretly loved for years.

Zoe printed off a prescription, signed it and slid it across the desk. Gregor stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

Halfway out of the door he turned back to face Zoe and put his forefinger up to his lips. ‘Shush.’

The compassion she had begun to feel for him vanished.

 

Zoe reached the end of surgery without mishap, although five minutes later she could not have named any of the patients who came in after Gregor Baird. Her mind replayed their conversation over and over again.

She had been right: he was much cleverer than people realised. The gossip that Chrissie was having an affair did not go far enough. Her stepson had been her lover, and the pair had succeeded in keeping their long relationship a secret from everyone.

Even more intriguing was the money Chrissie had evidently planned to spend on that spa break.
If neither her husband nor her lover gave it to her, where had it come from?

Paul put his head round Zoe’s door. ‘It’s four o’clock. We’re in Walter’s room.’

 

 

Chapter 46

Walter raised his head and nodded as Zoe entered his consulting room without making eye contact with her. Paul jumped up to move an unoccupied chair a few inches to the left and patted its seat. She sat down and waited for one of them to speak.

Finally, Walter addressed Paul. ‘As you know, I’ve been home to Cardiff again. As well as helping Mother move into her nursing home, I went there to think about the future. My future.’

Paul examined a stain on his tie. After a few moments’ silence he looked up, as if surprised it was his turn to speak. ‘What conclusion did you reach?’

‘I’ve not been happy with certain aspects of the practice for a while. Decisions have been made that I couldn’t agree with and I feel as though I’m being edged out.’

‘My dear fellow, that’s not the case at all and you know it.’

‘I beg to differ. Which is why I’ve decided to return to Wales. For good.’

Paul sat up straighter in his chair. ‘Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind?’

‘No, there isn’t.’ Walter glanced towards Zoe for the first time, and in spite of those unambiguous words, his was message clear. Paul could stop him from carrying out his threat to leave simply by getting rid of her.

Paul looked at Zoe. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Zoe’s stomach lurched.
He was going to give in. Just like that
. She concentrated so hard on not crying out in protest, she nearly missed what Paul said next.

‘It’s because I decided to appoint Zoe to the practice, isn’t it?’

‘Of course not.’ At least Walter had the grace to look embarrassed at this unconvincing denial. ‘But I don’t think she’s fitted in as well as we all hoped. With hindsight, I can see we should have recruited someone who knew the area and was more settled in their personal life.’

‘You of all people should realise it takes time to make somewhere your home. You have to get to know people, make friends, put down roots.’

‘Paying little heed to the wishes of one’s employer in the meantime?’

‘Now you’re being unfair. Zoe has had difficulties recently – none of her own making – but she’s always behaved professionally and the patients have taken to her.’

Zoe could not keep quiet any longer. ‘I am here, you know. And thanks, Paul, but I can stand up for myself. I’m sorry if things haven’t turned out as you expected, Walter. The last month or so hasn’t been a bundle of laughs for me either.’ She crossed her arms to hide her shaking hands. Did that make her look defensive? She uncrossed them.

‘You don’t need to apologise, my dear,’ Paul said. ‘No one is blaming you for what has happened.’

‘That’s not how it sounds.’

‘You must admit you’ve been distracted,’ Walter said. ‘As well as your problems with Gerry Hall and that unfortunate accident in your car, you’ve become much too involved with helping the police investigate the Bairds’ deaths.’

Zoe tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a bitter laugh. ‘I assure you I’m the last person who would choose to get tangled up with the police.’

‘Then why did you consider breaking patient confidentiality to give them information about Gregor Baird?’

‘Paul and I talked about that and I took his advice.’

‘But what would you have done if Paul hadn’t got involved?’

‘So now I’m being criticised for something which didn’t actually happen?’

‘Stop it, both of you,’ Paul said. ‘Walter, you’re forcing my hand.’ He got up from his chair.

Zoe tensed.
What on earth was he going to do?
She relaxed a little when Paul lifted down the photograph of a young, dark-haired woman from a shelf of medical textbooks and waved it in front of Walter. ‘You’re devoted to her, aren’t you?’

‘Of course I am. Wouldn’t any father be?’

‘And Morwen’s very loyal to you. Please remember that when you hear what I’m about to say.’

Walter looked puzzled.

‘I admit I had doubts about your daughter coming to work with us,’ Paul said. ‘But after she’d been a locum here for those few weeks in the spring, I was starting to change my mind.’

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