It was sunny and warm, with just enough wind to make the game interesting. The fairways had been recently cut and the heather had not yet reached its full season’s growth. Getting out of the rough was going to be easier than it would be later on in the season.
Four drives, reasonably straight down the middle and Keith was waddling off after his ball in his usual aggressive manner – short bandy legs, feet splayed out at ninety degrees and shoulders hunched. His relationship with a golf ball was definitely unhealthy. For him the ball was the enemy and he was going to make damn sure it behaved itself and did what he wanted it to do. It never occurred to him that it was an inanimate object and was only reacting to the way he hit it.
In spite of Keith’s battle with the ball we had a good round and Pierre and I managed to win on the eighteenth.
Back to the bar for a beer. Jack had to leave fairly quickly and Pierre excused himself at the same time.
This was my opportunity to have a word with Keith. I suggested another drink and asked him if he had ten minutes to spare – there was something I wanted to ask him.
“Sure,” he replied.”How can I help you?” “You know Gavin Reid, don’t you? Wasn’t he the guy you introduced to me here a few weeks ago?”
Keith looked at me warily. “Yes,” he said. “Lawyer from Edinburgh. I use him from time to time. What about him?”
“Is he any good?” “I’ve had no problem with him. Why? Have you heard something?”
“Oh, no. it’s just that I have a friend who needs a lawyer in Edinburgh and he asked me if I knew anyone.”
“What’s it to do with?” asked Keith. “I don’t really know the details,” I said. “Something to do with investments and finance.”
“If that’s what you want Reid’s not the right guy. He’s much more of a specialist in property deals. But I’ll ask around for you if you want. I’ve got quite a lot of contacts over there.”
“That would be great,” I said. “There’s no rush but if you can get me a recommendation it would be much appreciated.”
We finished our drinks, took leave of each other and I drove back to Letham.
I got back to the house. I parked the hired car I had taken to replace my old Rover, which was now a jumble of burnt out metal. Must get it taken away, I thought but I had to wait for the insurance people to send in their report. It was already a week late. With the insurance money and the management fee I had extracted from Purdy I suddenly realised I could treat myself to something a bit more fitting for my station in life. That’s what I would do. As soon as I got the ok from the insurance company I’d treat myself to a bright red convertible Mercedes.
With that decided I called Mike. All was in hand. They had transported a very subdued Purdy back to Edinburgh and left him outside the car park of the squash club. I wondered how he had managed to explain his absence to his wife. Well that wasn’t my problem. I hoped I’d seen the last of him. Doug and Mac were now taking turns to watch Dewar.
Dad was still smiling at me from the wall as I went through to the kitchen to fix myself a coffee. I sat down to flick through the newspapers. The usual hyped-up nonsense about the goings on of some celebrity football player was splattered across the front page. Any intelligent comments on issues of note were hard to find. There was a short article on Alex Salmond’s latest pronouncement on independence for Scotland. That brought me back to our man Dewar again who was, if I remembered correctly, now an SNP member.
Pierre and I had discussed who the man might be that Purdy had been too afraid of to mention. We had come to the tentative conclusion that the arrows seemed to be pointing Dewar’s way. I wondered what Alex Salmond would feel about one of his members being at the bottom of a murder plot. I recalled what Pierre had said. Now that the Purdy fiasco was over and if that was the source of Dewar’s extra cash, then perhaps he might back off and leave me alone.
But I wasn’t at all sure and hoped that the boys were keeping a close eye on him.
The phone rang about nine thirty the next morning. I cursed, got up and went downstairs to answer it. It was Mike.
“Guess what,” he said triumphantly. ”It was worth our while to watch Dewar.”
“What do you mean?” I asked nervously. I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable whenever that man’s name was mentioned.
“Our friend Alan Purdy has not yet flown off to the Caribbean or wherever we hope he disappears to. After we dropped him late yesterday afternoon he didn’t go straight to his car and drive home as you might have thought he would.”
“What did he do then?” I asked. “In spite of the messy state he was in he went straight into the squash club, and presumably made a phone call because half an hour later Mr Bill Dewar drove up in a rather excited state and disappeared inside. Mac was watching at the time and, as neither of them had ever seen him before, he had the sense to go in and see what might be going on. They were both in the corner of the bar having a very heated discussion. Purdy was apparently ranting and raving, trying to tell Dewar something. Mac says that Dewar looked as if he was going to blow a gasket.
“They argued for about ten minutes then Purdy got up and stormed off. Doug picked him up outside and said that he drove straight home.”
“And Dewar?”
“He stayed for another five minutes or so and then he left as well. He was not looking a happy man according to Mac.”
“Did he go home?” “Presumably. It was quite late. We don’t actually know for sure because Mac lost him. By the time Mac got back to his car Dewar had already driven off. He says he’ll pick him up tomorrow from his house. He knows where he lives.”
“OK. How’s Sophie by the way? Why don’t you both come over tomorrow afternoon? I’ve got a few things I need to tell that lady.”
“We’ll come over but you won’t tell her anything,” retorted Mike. “I’ll tell her all she needs to know.”
I sat back and thought about the news I had just heard. We hadn’t anticipated that. Purdy had seemed so scared about the man who had apparently told him to get rid of me that we thought he would stay well clear of him. That maybe wasn’t Purdy’s smartest move. I suspected that he would definitely be wise to skip the country now, as fast as he could.
Having nothing much to do for the rest of the day I resigned myself to do the bit of gardening that I had been promising to do for a couple of weeks.
I went up and changed into old trousers, a tee shirt and a shirt, stuck on a cap and went outside to spend a couple of hours weeding. I was very soon completely engrossed in my task. Whatever part of my mind that was not being used to make decisions about what was a flower and what was a weed became occupied with thoughts about the relationship between Purdy and Dewar. What was the hold Dewar had on Purdy? Or was it the other way round? I was convinced that Dewar knew either all about the scam of AIM or the fact that Purdy had a mistress. Either of the reasons would be enough to milk hush money from him and that would explain the hold that Dewar had over him.
Suddenly I remembered something. I got up and went indoors to the work that Pierre and I had done for the trust. A quick look through the files. There it was, near the top. A name, age, eighty-two, fifty thousand pounds, exminer and a comment, “No problem – one son but estranged.”
The name was David Dewar and his address was in Linlithgow.
Could this be Bill Dewar’s father? I went back out to continue my weeding.
Chapter 16
Waking is a strange process – or I should say “returning to consciousness”.
I had thought that perhaps dreaming would become less prevalent as one aged but this is not the case.