LEGER’S FOE
‘I thought one of the reasons we moved from Glasgow was to get away from all the crime,’ Annabella grumbled, rustling the newspaper she held in her hands with annoyance.
She sat the paper on the kitchen table and pursed her lips, while Leger, her beloved black tomcat pounced onto her lap and gazed up at her with admiration in his amber eyes.
‘What’s the matter?’ her husband, Hugh asked.
‘A man drowned in the loch yesterday,’ she advised.
‘The loch? You mean the one just behind our building?’ Hugh gasped. ‘How is that a crime? Was he pushed?’
‘Apparently so! According to the article his friend, who was out walking his dog at the time and jumped in to save him, says the chap was pushed. That’s all he’s told police. He’s still too traumatised to make much sense,’ Annabella said, raising her eyebrows.
She patted her short auburn hair as she thought this over. Her niece, Carole, who was visiting from Glasgow that week, had taken her two children to the loch half an hour ago to feed the swans and had done so each day since she arrived. She didn’t like the idea of her niece and the little ones being in a place where a crime had just recently been committed. She absentmindedly stroked the back of Leger’s neck as she considered taking a walk down there herself, just to check on Carole.
‘I know what you’re thinking, and you’re not going,’ Hugh barked, interrupting her train of thought.
‘You know me too well!’ she grimaced.
‘Carole will be fine. Lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place. Any crime scene will be cordoned off and it’s likely they’re investigating it for clues too so she won’t be anywhere near it. Anyway, if this chap was pushed into the loch, it’s probable that there’s a backstory there. He might have had a grievance with somebody. They probably have a list of suspects. Who knows? Carole doesn’t know anyone here besides us and she’s unlikely to be attacked by the same person who pushed this man into the water. I hate to say it, but women are attacked for different reasons from men and whoever pushed him has a grievance that doesn’t involve Carole.’
Annabella nodded. ‘You’re right. I just hate the thought of a killer being on the loose and our niece being out there on her own, in the very same place where he struck!’
Leger looked up at her and hissed.
‘What’s the matter, my wee love?’ Annabella asked.
‘He’s probably objecting to your assumption that the killer was a man and not a woman,’ Hugh sniggered. ‘Does the story in the paper say anything about who this man was? Was he some kind of gangster or something?’
Annabella picked up the newspaper again and scanned it.
‘It did say something, actually. Where was it again? Oh, yes. Here it is. “The man, a restaurateur named Sean Gilbert, had been harassed by teenagers numerous times over the last decade after it was discovered he had used cheap cat food in some dishes on his menu. The rumour was twisted over time and earned him the nickname Gibby the Cat Killer.” That’s disgusting!’ she exclaimed, putting her hands over Leger’s ears.
‘That’s teenagers for you,’ Hugh grunted. ‘What paper is that anyway?’
‘One of the national ones. Do you think an animal lover would have killed him, thinking the rumours were true?’
‘Killing someone for using cat food in a meal is a bit over-dramatic. If it will put your mind at ease, we’ll take a walk out to the loch together and check on her and the wee ones,’ Hugh suggested, just as the door clicked and Carole entered the house accompanied by her four year old daughter, Brianna and Hugh’s black Labrador, Bob, who had gone for a walk with the family. Carole was struggling to get her younger child, Louis and his stroller through the narrow doorway.
Hugh jumped out of his seat and raced over to the door to assist Carole while Annabella smiled at her niece to welcome her home. She looked down at Leger and sighed.
‘Thank goodness they’re home. I could never have lived with myself if she had come here to visit me and encountered trouble as a result!’
*****
‘You would look so cute as a bunny,’ Brianna mused, arranging some felt ears on Bob’s head. ‘Or maybe a duck.’
Leger sat opposite the little girl and the black Labrador, sniggering, glad for once that he was not the subject of Brianna’s creative dressing.
‘Do you know, I’ve often thought the same,’ Bob admitted, panting with glee.
‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ Leger sneered. ‘You’re as silly as she is.’
‘You’re just jealous because she’s paying me lots of attention,’ Bob dismissed, snuffling with annoyance.
‘Yes. I am jealous that you look so ridiculous and I do not,’ Leger agreed. ‘I’m going to find Carole. She apparently brought me some catnip from Glasgow. It’s so long since I had any and I need something to distract me while I’m thinking over the details of this drowning case.’
‘I did wonder if you would try to solve that! Any leads yet?’ Bob asked.
‘None. I’m still in the early stages of collating as much information as I can.’
Leger sauntered into the kitchen of the home he shared with Annabella, Hugh, Bob and Lily the calico. Annabella and Hugh had never been blessed with children but Leger knew that they viewed their niece, Carole, as the daughter they never had and when she had announced she was coming to visit them on the island, they were delighted.
Leger had expected Carole’s whole family to be here but it seemed it was just her and her two children, Brianna and the baby, Louis. Her husband, Gordon, was very rarely around and Leger only remembered meeting him a handful of times. The usual excuse was work commitments. This time, he had some family emergency towhich he had to attend and so Carole had arrived with just the children in her car and spent the last three days by the loch, feeding the swans with Brianna.
‘Hello, Carole,’ Leger said, slinking into the kitchen, where Carole stood nursing a mug of tea and staring out of the window. He noticed her eyes were red and it looked like she had been crying.
Annabella was out in the hall, speaking to someone on the phone about a booking for the hotel. Carole failed to acknowledge Leger’s presence so he curled his body around her ankles and whipped his tail against her knees.
‘Oh. Leger, you probably want some catnip,’ Carole muttered, sitting her mug on the worktop, clearly subdued and morose.
She reached up to the cupboard above her head and pulled a small bunch of catnip down. Leger’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth from excitement, ready to inhale the sweet scent and become lost in the heady sensations that would follow until he heard yowling above him. He looked up and saw Lily, perched on top of the cupboards.
‘Lily! Are you alright?’ Leger called out to her.
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m good. This catnip’s amazing,’ she breezed, barely paying attention. ‘Leger, who’s that giant mouse behind you?’
He turned around and saw Bob, still adorned in the felt rabbit ears Brianna had made.
‘I’m not a mouse, I’m a bunny rabbit,’ Bob whined.
‘He looks like a tasty specimen,’ Lily giggled, not processing what Bob had said. ‘I’ve never seen such a big mouse.’
Carole placed the catnip in front of Leger and went back to her tea, completely switched off from what was happening around her.
Without further warning, Lily leapt onto Bob’s head and sank her teeth into him.
‘Die, mouse!’ she screeched.
‘Lily, get off me!’ Bob grunted. ‘Leger, help me.’
Leger looked at the bunch of catnip in front of him and then to the spectacle unfolding before his eyes.
‘I don’t think I’ll bother with this. It’s clearly a bad batch,’ Leger grizzled, turning his nose up.
He wondered if he looked so ridiculous when he indulged in catnip and if he did, why didn’t anyone tell him? Perhaps he would wait until later, when nobody was around to make a fool of himself.