Over My Dead Body (Detective William Warwick #4)(19)

‘And that includes you, my dear,’ said George, smiling at his wife.

William waited until Franco had refilled their wine glasses before producing James’s seating plan and placing it in the centre of the table.



He allowed them a few moments to study it, before he continued. ‘First, note that Hamish Buchanan is seated on the left-hand side of the table, between his mother and Flora Buchanan on his left.’

‘Who’s she?’ asked Catherine.

‘Fraser Buchanan’s sister. The formidable grande dame of the company, who the rest of the family are in awe of.’

‘And next to her?’ enquired the judge, peering down at the plan.

‘Dr Lockhart, whose sole purpose in life was to keep the chairman alive. But not on this occasion.’

This revelation silenced the three of them for a moment, giving William the chance to enjoy a forkful of steak.

‘And on his left?’ asked Beth.

‘Alice Buchanan, James’s mother and the wife of Angus Buchanan’ – he moved his finger across to the other side of the table – ‘who recently replaced his brother Hamish as deputy chairman of the company.’

‘I have a feeling that side of the table isn’t going to be important,’ said the judge.

‘A shrewd observation,’ said William, ‘but you’ll still have to concentrate if you’re to work out what Hamish Buchanan was up to. Everyone saw him take a drink from his hip flask during dinner, which caused his father to pointedly ask what he was drinking, as he suspected it was whisky or brandy, despite Hamish having just assured him he was on the wagon.’

No one interrupted as William put down his knife and fork.

‘Hamish claimed the flask only contained a mild sedative that had been given to him by Dr Lockhart to help him sleep. But the chairman demanded it was passed to him so he could check for himself. Their first mistake.’ William paused to allow Franco to refill their wine glasses.

‘Where was I?’ he said once Franco had put the wine back in the ice bucket.

‘Hamish was passing his hip flask to his father, who was seated at the top of the table,’ Beth reminded him.

‘Ah yes,’ said William. ‘So, Hamish handed the flask to Great-Aunt Flora, who passed it on to the doctor, who in turn gave it to Alice, who finally handed it to the chairman.’ He took a sip of wine while they continued to study the table plan. ‘The chairman swallowed a long draught from the flask,’ he continued, ‘and although he found it tasted unpleasant, it clearly wasn’t alcohol, and therefore he assumed it must be the medicine Dr Lockhart had prescribed. He then passed the hip flask back to his son at the other end of the table.’

‘Down which side of the table?’ asked the judge.

‘That’s the point,’ said William. ‘The same side.’

‘As I thought,’ said the judge. ‘But I’m still only half-way there.’

‘When the flask was returned to Hamish, he made a great show of taking another swig from it. His second mistake.’

‘I’m lost,’ said Beth.

‘Patience,’ said William. ‘Concentrate on the seating plan and all will be revealed. James Buchanan, my recently promoted Detective Sergeant, spent this morning identifying all the fingerprints he could find on the tumblers, wine glasses and coffee cups of everyone who had sat on the left-hand side of the table, while I carried out the same exercise with Hamish’s hip flask.’

‘You’re still a yard ahead of me,’ said Catherine. ‘If Hamish’s flask was passed to his father at the top of the table, everyone’s fingerprints on that side of the table had to be on it.’

‘But they weren’t,’ suggested the judge, ‘because someone had switched the flask for a similar one before it reached the chairman at the top of the table, and that person will be the only one whose fingerprints were on both flasks.’

‘Not a bad summing up, m’Lud,’ said William with a grin. ‘So in order to decide who is the guilty party, the jury must first consider the evidence. Flora took Hamish’s flask and passed it on to the doctor like a baton in a relay race, and when the chairman sent it back down the table, the same exercise was carried out in reverse. Simple and well planned, except the accomplices made two mistakes. First—’ William stopped mid-sentence as Franco reappeared to clear their plates.

‘Would you like to see the dessert menu?’ he asked.

‘No, thank you,’ said Catherine, not even looking up.

‘A digestif, perhaps?’ ventured Franco.

‘No, thank you,’ repeated the judge a little more firmly, his eyes still fixed on the place settings on James’s drawing. Franco left, having served no purpose.

William waited to see if anyone had worked out what those mistakes were.

‘Whose fingerprints did you find on Hamish’s hip flask?’ asked the judge. ‘And, more important, whose fingerprints were missing? Because that will tell us who switched the flasks.’

William acknowledged the judge with a slight bow, as if they were in court. ‘The only fingerprints I could identify on Hamish’s flask were Flora’s, who was seated next to him, the not so good doctor Lockhart, and of course Hamish’s.’

‘Got it,’ said Beth.