Chapter 24

 

   Holmes stared at the body of Roddy Morrison for what seemed like forever. The Thompsons stood each side of the door to John's bedroom and said nothing. Dugal stayed in the kitchen and stared out of the window. Eventually John sidled over beside Holmes and stared down at the body with him.
   Holmes then stepped back and looked around the room.
   'I don't know what to do,' he said quietly.
   No one said a word.
   Holmes looked down at the body again.
   'That's a hefty cut on his head right enough,' he said, 'but it isn't serious enough to have killed the man. It looks very much to me as if he drowned.'
   Everyone in the room remained silent.
   'Keep him here for now John,' said Holmes, taking control of the situation. 'Don't move him, just leave him as he is. I am going back to the station. When I report the matter, things will move very quickly.'
   'So you don't think it is murder then?' said John, looking up at Holmes.
   'The water bailiff's testimony was quite clear. Roddy had lost his mind and was holding him under the water, trying to drown him. The next thing he knew, he had been pulled from the water and was lying on the shore. He turned on his side and was retching water and couldn't focus in the darkness. It is pretty clear to me that whoever it was that hit Roddy on the head with a rock saved the water bailiff's life.'
   'So Roddy was knocked unconscious and then drowned?' asked John, still staring into the coffin.
   'I think so, but I still have a few unanswered questions,' said Holmes, turning to look at the Thompsons. 'How is it that Roddy was buried in one of your coffins?'
   'There was a break in at our workshop the other night,' said Jock.
   'Why didn't you report it?'
   'A coffin was stolen,' added Jimmy quickly.
   'Just a coffin? Nothing else?'
   'Just a coffin,' confirmed Jock.
   'It's all starting to make sense,' said Holmes, and headed for the door. 'Will you all please stay here for the time being. There will be lots of questions asked and it is going to be uncomfortable for you. I will send an ambulance to pick up Roddy, and we will take it from there.'
   He waited a moment, then ducked his head as he left the bedroom and headed to the back door.

   'He's gone,' said Dugal, peering through the curtains in the living room.
   'We still have a big problem,' said Jock.
   'Indeed,' agreed Jimmy. 'John, the other coffin is still in the ground, isn't it?'
   'Oh, so you know about him then?' said John, tapping a foot.
   'Did you two murder him and bury him there?' asked Dugal suspiciously.
   'Yes, we buried him,' said Jock, 'but he wasn't murdered.'
   He then recounted the story from the time they went to the mortuary to pick up Colin Drummond. John and Dugal listened in silence as Jock explained what had happened with Charlie and the new lad mixing up the two bodies, the incident with Mrs Drummond, and why they had decided to bury the body.
   'Well,' said John when they finished, with some warmth in his tone. 'I'm thinking if I were in your shoes I might have done the same thing.'
   'When the police arrive,' noted Dugal in some alarm, 'they are going to cordon off the grave and they will find the other body.'
   'Not if we remove it before they get here,' said Jock.
   'That would be good,' replied John, 'but what are we going to do with it?'
   'I don't know yet, but we need to get it out of there and hide it until we have time to think.'
   'It's your problem, not ours,' said Dugal.
   'Oh?' replied Jock. 'And who buried him the last time? It wasn't us.'
   'Don't you dare blame us,' retorted Dugal, lowering his voice menacingly.
   'I'm not blaming anyone,' said Jock, 'but your part in this can't be kept from the police if they find the body. We would have to tell the police everything in our statements.'
   'What do you have in mind?' asked John.
   'We take the body out of your grave and bury it again where no one will ever find it. Let's keep things simple. Someone killed Roddy, and it wasn't any of us. The hospital records are all in order, and no one is looking for the other body. And think about poor Mrs Drummond.'
   'So,' mused Jimmy, 'someone broke into our workshop, stole a coffin and buried Roddy in John's grave.'
   'Exactly,' said Jock. 'We're all in the clear if they don't find the other body. Jimmy and I will dig up the coffin and get him out of here before the police arrive.'
   'You will have to be quick,' said John.
   'Will you take us out there on the tractor? We could do with your help.'
   'Let's go,' said John, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair.

   They were back with the coffin in under half an hour. While Dugal watched the road for cars, Jock and Jimmy manhandled the coffin into the back of their estate car and covered it with a blanket. When they were back in the house, Jock and Jimmy washed themselves in the kitchen sink, then went to the back door to get the mud off their shoes. It was about an hour after that when Holmes returned accompanied by a constable, both of them in uniform. About five minutes later, an ambulance arrived. The coffin with Roddy Morrison was quickly carried out the back door, down the garden path and slid into the back of the ambulance.
   'Be sure you all remain available,' cautioned Holmes before leaving. 'This is a police matter, and two detectives from Glasgow will be arriving on the next plane from Inverness. It is getting late in the day now, so it will be tomorrow before we take statements from you all. So stay available and be sure we can find you quickly.'
   With that, he left with the constable and they headed back into town following the ambulance in their police car.

   When they had excused themselves from John's house, the Thompsons drove home at a leisurely pace, with Jock driving. They were almost home before Jimmy broke the silence.
   'We have the flask, so we're in the clear, aren't we?'
   'I think so, yes.'
   'What are we going to do with the body in the boot?'
   'I have a plan.'
   'What is it?'
   'Sheesh, will you, I'm trying to think.'
   Jimmy fell silent again and stared morosely out the window, watching the houses and moor drift by.

   When they got home, the twins put on their overalls so they would appear to all intents and purposes to be undertakers going about their normal everyday business. After checking no one was around, they transferred the body from the boot of their car, gave it a quick wash and dry, wrapped it in the blanket again, slid it into the hearse, ensured it was well covered and headed into town.
   'He is beginning to smell,' said Jimmy.
   'Yes, isn't he.'

   The traffic at that time of day was fairly quiet and with Jock driving they made slow, but steady time.
   'I suppose you know where we're going,' remarked Jimmy crossly.
   'Aye, that I do.'
   Jimmy became quite animated when Jock took the turning for the hospital.
   'Why are we going to the hospital?'
   'We are going to the mortuary.'
   Jimmy stared wide eyed at his brother.
   'You are joking, right?'
   'No I am not. Isn't that where you normally go with bodies in a hearse? Anything else would be weird, don't you think?'
   Jimmy stared at him but couldn't think of anything to say.
   'What is the matter now?' asked Jock, beginning to resent his brother's silence.
   'I would appreciate being kept informed as to your plans. I am, after all, a part of them.'
   'I'm not sure I like the tone of your voice.'
   'I couldn't give a shit.'
   'You and your swearing!'
   'Says the man who can't stop scratching his balls in public.'

   When they parked up outside the Mortuary, the Thompsons had a quick look around to make sure no one was around, then hurried inside. Charlie didn't seem pleased to see them and lifted himself hesitantly from his chair.
   'And how is business?' he asked suspiciously, tucking his long hair behind his ears. 'A good turn-over I trust.'
   'Hello Charlie,' said Jock drily.
   'Is your profit curve showing a rather disappointing downward trend,' continued Charlie cautiously.
   'I am not in the mood for your wit,' barked Jock.
   'Oh dear,' said Charlie warily, not liking Jock's heavy expression.
   He put his hands into the pockets of his white coat and waited, eyeing the two men sullenly.
   'I hear Roddy Morrison is still missing,' he offered at length, trying to get some kind of conversation going.
   'No, he's been found,' said Jock.
   'Then that's good,' said Charlie brightly.
   'No, it isn't good, he's dead.'
   'I don't understand.'
   'He turned up in one of our coffins.'
   Charlie turned as white as his lab coat, then sat down with a shake of his head and ran a hand over his face.
   'Our workshop was broken into,' explained Jimmy. 'Someone stole one of our coffins, and when we found it later, Roddy was in it, and he was dead.'
   'Sounds like a police matter to me,' said Charlie warily. 'So why are you here?'
   'Because we need your help.'
   'Ah, and how are things with our former inmate, Mr mixed up Drummond?'
   'As good as could be expected under the circumstances.'
   'I have some news of my own,' said Charlie. He lifted himself out of his chair and fixed his gaze on an imaginary horizon. 'Next week,' he continued, 'I'm leaving the island.'
   'Holidays?'
   'No, I'm leaving the island for good, never to return. My notice is in, I'm packed, and the car is booked onto the ferry.'
   'All a bit sudden, isn't it?' remarked Jock.
   'Is something wrong?' asked Jimmy.
   'Wrong? Are you taking the piss? Every night I lie in my bed, unable to sleep.'
   'Don't be so dramatic.'
   'It's true, I have nightmares about the whole thing.'
   'Now you really are being silly.'
   'Easy for you to say, Jock Thompson. Where did you bury him anyway, just out of curiosity?'
   'Ah, now there's a thing,' said Jimmy.
   'I need to know,' said Charlie.
   'Well, it's difficult to explain.'
   Charlie glanced at the clock on the wall.
   'My shift ends in half an hour.'
   'Where will you go when you leave the island?'
   'Who cares? I can't sleep on this island. My dreams are filled with dead bodies, decaying faces and prison cells. He could be anywhere! I could walk over his grave and not realise it.'
   Jock and Jimmy exchanged glances.
   'Will you both join me for a drink?' said Charlie suddenly, crossing to a cupboard from which he extracted three plastic cups and a half bottle.
   'Good idea,' said Jock. 'You will probably need it for the shock that's coming your way.'
   'Sorry, what was that?'
   'Cheers Charlie,' beamed Jimmy, moving the conversation on. 'All the best to you and here's to your happiness in your new home, wherever it may be.'
   'What are you going to do?' asked Jock, downing a good mouthful of whisky.
   'Okay, quit stalling, out with it you two,' said Charlie, putting his whisky down. 'This is no social visit. Why are you here?'
   'Better ask him,' said Jimmy, nodding to his brother, 'because I have no idea why we are here either.'
   Jock sipped his whisky and then placed his plastic cup on the cold mortuary slab.
   'We have a problem, Charlie.'
   'I'm not sure I want to hear anymore.'
   'It's nothing serious. We just need some temporary cold storage for a day or two.'
   'At the salmon poaching are we?'
   'Not quite.'
   'You speak in riddles. Hurry up, I am leaving soon.'
   Charlie slipped off his white coat and reached for a jacket draped over the back of his chair.
   'We are in a bit of a pickle. It's just for a day or two. Trust me, it's in your best interests.'
   'I don't think I like the sound of that. Come on, hurry up, what is it?'
   'Will this nightmare ever end?' sighed Jimmy.
   'Come with me,' said Jock, heading to the door, 'we'll show you.'
   With that, Jock led the way out to the car, opened the boot and uncovered the coffin.
   Charlie stared at it for a few seconds.
   'Who is that?'
   'Who do you think it is?'
   Charlie put both hands to his mouth.
   'Will you two please fuck off,' he said, pointing in the direction of the front gates.
   'It's—'
   'Fuck off!'
   'In case you'd forgotten, Charlie,' said Jock, holding his ground, 'this is your mistake we're covering up for. He's your body.'
   Charlie had terror in his eyes.
   'But—'
   'It's only for a day or two, I promise. We've hit a snag and we just need some time to find another place to bury him.'
   'He will be stinking,' said Charlie, on the verge of tears.
   'We should be back for him tomorrow, two days at the most.'
   Charlie stood for a while wringing his hands.
   'Come on Charlie, he'll decompose completely if we stand around here much longer.'
   With a pathetic grunt, Charlie slouched back into the mortuary.
   'I think that was a yes,' said Jock, bending into the boot of the car. 'Quick, grab the other end of the coffin.'

   When they staggered into the mortuary, Charlie had a drawer open.
   'Put him in here,' he said flatly. 'You have two days.'
   Jock and Jimmy placed the coffin on the roller tray and Charlie quickly pushed it in and locked the drawer.
   'Right then,' said Jock, 'let's get out of here before we wind up with any more of Charlie's liabilities.'
   'Piss off,' snapped Charlie coldly.
   'Okay, you two,' scolded Jimmy, stepping in. 'We're all in this together and we all need each other.'
   'You speak for yourself,' growled Charlie.
   'We'll see you hopefully tomorrow,' said Jock, and as a farewell gesture gave Charlie a fatherly pat on the back. 'If not, it will be the following morning. Don't worry, it will all be okay in the end, trust me.'
   'Now where have I heard that before?' muttered Charlie darkly.

   There was a long silence as the Thompsons drove home. When they reached the crossroads, Jock sighed and attempted to strike up a conversation.
   'I'm hungry.'
   'What's for dinner?' asked Jimmy without enthusiasm.
   'There's some lamb left from the weekend.'
   'Any idea where we're going to bury him? What about filling the coffin with rocks and dumping it in the loch?'
   'I'd be terrified the body would wash ashore one day.'
   'Yeah, I suppose that would keep me awake at nights too.'
   'I fancy a fry up,' said Jock.
   'Black pudding, sausages, fried eggs, tomatoes and beans?'
   'Sounds lovely. Is there any tomato sauce left?'
   'What about chopping him up?'
   'Huh?'
   'The body.'
   'You mean with a meat cleaver in the kitchen sink?'
   'Or in the bath,' said Jimmy. 'Hey, we could grind him through the mincer!'
   'Yeah right.'
   'Is there any ice cream left? I fancy ice cream for pudding.'
   'I could do with some soup.'
   'We don't have any. What about acid?'
   Jock didn't reply.
   'I wasn't thinking about dissolving him.'
   'Yes you were.'
   'Okay, I was. How did you know?'
   'We read the same novels at school, idiot.'
   'Oh yeah.'
   'The moor is a big place. If we bury him deep enough, no one would ever find him.'
   'You said that the last time.'
   'So I did.'
   'What about feeding him to animals?'
   'Oh shut up.'

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