Double Entry. Margaret McKinlay

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      ‘I slid off the road, Rees,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, I’m all right, just bruised.’

      ‘We guessed that something had happened,’ his uncle said. His voice boomed down the phone. ‘Gwen phoned but I’ll call her back. Ice, was it?’

      John hesitated. He didn’t want to go into detail on the phone about the other car, but Rees had to know some time. ‘Not exactly. There was another car involved and I ended up going off the road—it wasn’t … Look, let’s leave the explanations until I see you.’

      Rees hadn’t interrupted and when John finished speaking there was silence for a long moment. And when Rees did speak it was with deliberation. ‘Are you saying it wasn’t an accident? A skid?’

      John sighed. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure what it was. The driver of the other car rammed me when I wouldn’t pull over. I don’t think he meant it to develop the way it did, but on the other hand he doesn’t seem to have stopped to report what happened.’

      ‘Were there any witnesses?’

      ‘I don’t think so. No one here has mentioned seeing the other car.’

      ‘Good. I’ll send someone to fetch you and I’d rather you didn’t mention the other car if anyone should ask.’

      John wanted to ask Rees why the secrecy, but he was not inclined to argue. He would report it when he got to Edinburgh, but he certainly didn’t want to face making statements tonight. ‘OK, but don’t send a car tonight. I’m in a pub in Altford and the landlady has got a bed for me. To be honest, I’d like to fall into it very soon.’

      ‘You sure you’re all right?’ Rees asked sharply.

      ‘I’m sure. Send a car in the morning.’ John put the phone down and sat in the quiet room for a few more moments, thinking about the intruder in his office and now the events of this day. What on earth was going on?

      Betty was back, her round face beaming. She looked the type to make an excellent landlady. ‘Finished?’ She came right in then and looked apologetic. ‘There’s a policeman would like a word … he’s not official, he just lives here, but he says that it will save you giving a statement in the morning if he has a chat with you now.’

      John thought about the waiting bed and then got up stiffly.

      ‘OK.’

      He followed her back to the lounge where a man in his late forties was sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs beside the fire. He had neatly cut dark hair, heavy dark eyebrows and was wearing a cream roll-necked sweater over brown cords. A black Labrador sat beside his chair and he was fondling its ears.

      ‘Mr Leith? … Robert Jamieson,’ he said, holding out his hand.

      John sat opposite him and asked Betty if he could have a small Scotch. And while she was fetching it, the two men studied each other. Jamieson didn’t look like a village bobby, and remembering what Rees had said, John wondered how he could answer this man’s questions without mentioning the other car. Couldn’t policemen tell when two cars collided from the marks left on the road? He decided he was too tired to care.

      ‘I expect you feel like a soak in the tub to ease your aches, so I won’t keep you long. I was once in a minor accident myself so I can guess how you’re feeling.’ He was brisk and friendly but his eyes had an intelligent gleam that warned John to be careful about what he said, although he wasn’t sure why he was supposed to withhold part of his story. No doubt Rees had his reasons.

      ‘I came along that way tonight,’ the policeman said. ‘The trees give the road quite a bit of shelter but the blizzard was bad around the time you went over the edge—you hadn’t been drinking, Mr Leith?’

      John hadn’t been expecting that. ‘No,’ he said vehemently.

      The policeman smiled. ‘I’m not on duty and I’ll take your word. But I’m puzzled and I’ll admit it. This road is hardly well used unless by the local residents—so where were you going?’

      ‘I know the main road well because I visit my sister regularly—in Biggar.’ He’d fallen into a trap and now he had to explain why he left the main road. ‘I didn’t feel too good so I came off the road for a break. I hurt my head the other day and I must still be suffering from the after-effects.’ He was getting in deeper.

      ‘Another accident?’ Jamieson said with a hint of amusement.

      ‘A bump on the head, nothing serious,’ John said shortly. Now he knew how the police got their information out of people; they just sat back and let fools babble on.

      Jamieson let it rest. ‘So you were visiting your sister. Then heading for Edinburgh, I presume?’

      ‘That’s right.’

      The dog lifted its head and stared up at his master every time he spoke and the policeman was still stroking its head. It was a beautiful dog, with a well-groomed coat that gleamed.

      John took a sip of whisky and rolled it around his tongue before swallowing it and then he felt the heat of it spread through his body. He sipped again. Jamieson seemed to relax, took out a pipe and lit it and then sank back deeper into his chair.

      ‘I like Edinburgh but I prefer to live here. Do you live in the city, Mr Leith?’

      ‘I’ve a flat in Stockbridge.’ Now the man would ask if he was married, but instead the policeman shifted direction and asked where John worked. ‘I’m an accountant.’ That was safe enough. ‘I have an office in the West End.’ He was getting tired of the probing questions, for he was aware that was what Jamieson was doing. Did he already suspect that John was holding something back?

      ‘I think I’d like to get to bed now,’ he said, starting to rise.

      ‘Of course. Is there anyone I can contact for you?’

      ‘No, I’ve already phoned my uncle,’ John said. ‘Rees Kramer. He’s got a business in the High Street.’

      John didn’t know why he added that last piece of information, except that usually it forestalled having to explain that yes, it was the Rees Kramer of Kramer Property, but it certainly had an effect on the policeman who was now standing. He was several inches short of John’s six feet two but the man had a presence that made him seem equal in height.

      ‘I know Mr Kramer,’ he said, his eyes alert now, and there was something else that looked like suspicion. ‘It changes things a bit, doesn’t it? The people who work for your uncle seem to be prone to accidents,’ and he emphasized the last word.

      ‘Perhaps you’ll tell him that we met,’ he went on abruptly. ‘Tell him Chief Inspector Robert Jamieson sends his regards—I think he’ll be interested.’

      And with a snap of his fingers to the dog the policeman left the room.

      ‘Now what the hell was that about?’ John muttered. It was as if the man automatically disbelieved his story—only when he mentioned the name of Kramer.

CHAPTER 5

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