Read 08 - The Highland Fling Murders for Free Online

cramped for space.”
    “No. But the winters were a wee bit chilly. Come, Jessica. Make yourself at home.”
    Three men of varying ages came from behind the castle to unload our luggage as George led us inside. The entrance hall was the size of my living room in Cabot Cove. The floor was gray stone. Persian kilim rugs hung on the walls. The furniture was large and heavy; a Louis XV commode with an oyster veneer, a pair of splay-back chairs, and a huge pendulum clock.
    “It’s breathtaking,” Susan Shevlin said, making notes. She always took notes wherever she traveled in order to provide firsthand information to her travel agency clients.
    Mort Metzger and Seth Hazlitt went to the foot of the stairs leading to an upper level and looked up them. “What’s up there?” Mort asked.
    “Your rooms,” George replied. “But we’ll get to them a little later. Your bags will be there and unpacked when we do. For now, cocktails await in the drawing room.”
    As we walked through other rooms and down hallways to reach the drawing room, the splendor and magnitude of the castle became increasingly obvious—and awe-inspiring. There were suits of armor, tapestries depicting Scottish history, large shields with the Sutherland Clan crest emblazoned on them. The piper was now in the drawing room and “played us in.” A scarred table ran the length of one entire wall-twenty feet long. On it was a variety of food displayed on silver platters. On the opposite side of the room was an ornate Italian breakfront serving as a bar. Behind it stood a tall, stooped man wearing kilts and a black turtleneck sweater that had seen better days. He had a full head of greasy black hair that he’d slicked back, but its naturally unruly nature won out. His face was long and craggy, his eyes almost the color of his sweater. I glanced to where Jed and Alicia Richardson stood. Jed was beaming with delight at his surroundings; the look on his wife’s face said something else.
    “Alicia,” I said softly, coming to her side and casually placing my arm over her shoulder. “Everything is fine.”
    “That man,” she muttered. “The bartender.”
    “Yes?”
    “I don’t like him.”
    “He does look—well, menacing, I suppose. But I’m sure he’s a perfectly nice person. Remember, he works for George, who happens to be one of Scotland Yard’s top people. George would never hire anyone he didn’t implicitly trust.”
    “I know, I know,” she said. “I’m being silly.” She managed a smile. “Don’t worry about me, Jess. Go on, get a drink and some food.”
    Jed Richardson was already at the table putting salmon and trout, oysters with lemon, brown bread and wild game pâté on a plate. “Jed,” I said, “keep an eye on Alicia.”
    He turned to me. “You noticed, huh?”
    “Hard not to. She’s really shaken from your experience in London.”
    “I know. But she’ll be okay. This place is so great, Jess. It’ll put her at ease. Your friend, George, is some guy. Must be richer than a king, huh?”
    “Not at all,” I said. “He was left this castle, but that was all he was left. He has to run it as a hotel just to keep it up and pay the taxes.”
    “Why doesn’t he sell it?”
    “He says he’s considered that often, but can’t bring himself to do it. A lot of sentimental value, which I can understand. At any rate, keep tabs on Alicia. I want her to enjoy this.”
    Ken Sassi joined us. “When do we fish?” he asked.
    “I’ll ask George about that. In the meantime, you’ve found the food. Enjoy.”
    I took a few items of food, and a soft drink from the scowling bartender, and managed to comer George away from the others.
    “Enjoying yourself, Jess?” he asked.
    “How could I not? I wish I’d taken you up on your invitation years ago, and that I had a few months to spend here. I’ve never been in a castle before. A real one, I mean. And it’s the first time I’ve seen your knees.”
    His warm, gentle laugh made me feel