The Chessmen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jamie pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his Barbour jacket and shoved out his jaw. ‘Well?’

‘Nothing happened,’ Fin said. He glanced beyond Jamie and saw Kenny’s scepticism.

‘Nothing?’

‘Nothing much. Whistler was waiting for me up at the loch. He apologized for the other night. We talked about old times, and took shelter from the storm.’

Jamie’s disbelief was patent now. ‘The plane was found a long way from Tathabhal.’

Fin just shrugged. ‘Why are you looking for him?’

‘If it’s any of your business, Macleod, I’m serving Macaskill with notice of eviction. Thought I would do it myself, rather than send in the bailiffs.’

Fin felt his hackles rise and he glanced at Kenny. ‘And brought backup in case he kicked your arse again?’

‘I’m not sure I like your tone.’

‘And I’m not sure I want to work for someone who would throw a man out of his own home.’

Jamie bristled. ‘It’s not his. Neither the land nor the building. His father sold the feu of the blackhouse to my father years ago for ready drinking money. I’ve checked back through the books. There’s not been a penny paid in rent on the house or the croft since last century.’

Fin blew air through pursed lips. ‘A peppercorn rent. I’d be willing to bet we’re not looking at anything more than a few hundred quid. Not a fraction of the value of those chessmen in there.’ He jerked his thumb back towards the house. ‘Whistler was right. You’re not half the man your father is. He and Whistler had an understanding. You’re just a vindictive bastard.’

Anger simmered dangerously in Jamie’s unblinking gaze. ‘And you’re fired!’ His voice was tight and soft, barely audible above the wind.

‘Too late,’ Fin said. ‘I already quit.’

Jamie stood for a moment in seething silence, but whatever thoughts flashed through his mind wouldn’t form words on his lips. He turned and strode back down the hill to his Range Rover.

Kenny remained, staring at the ground in embarrassment. As the car door slammed shut below he looked up at Fin. ‘None of this is my doing, Fin.’

Fin stared at him for a long, hard moment, then nodded. ‘I know.’ He paused. ‘Where is he Kenny? He just seems to have vanished.’

Kenny shrugged his shoulders. ‘Who knows?’ He glanced up beyond the blackhouse towards the mountains. ‘He could be anywhere.’ His eyes flickered back towards Fin. ‘But I know where he’ll be tomorrow morning.’

Fin frowned. ‘How?’

‘There’s a hearing at the Sheriff Court. The custody case for wee Anna. If he doesn’t show up for it, the case’ll fall. So I expect him to be there.’

Fin looked at him, eyes filled with consternation. ‘How’s it possible, Kenny, that you can take a man’s wife, and his daughter, and still remain his friend?’

‘You’ve been away from the island too long, Fin. You can’t afford for things to get personal in a place like this. I wouldn’t call Whistler my friend these days, but there’s more in our history that binds us than any argument over the love of a woman, or the care of a child.’

Fin watched as Kenny strode back down the hill to where a fuming Jamie awaited him in the Range Rover. In keeping with his mood, the sky had become closed, the light gone, and the land lay brooding in semi-obscurity.