The Death Messenger (Matthew Ryan Book 2)(25)

‘When was this?’ Ryan asked.

‘Shortly after His Lordship was reported missing. The day after his trial was supposed to start in Edinburgh.’

‘I see.’ O’Neil took over. ‘Did they call ahead, or arrive unannounced?’

‘The latter.’ Mrs Forbes’ eyebrows pinched together. ‘I had an important appointment in Aberfeldy. I was leaving via the gate lodge when they drove in and asked me to hand the briefcase over as a matter of urgency. I asked them to come back later. They were very insistent.’

Ryan could see it happening. They wait outside until someone drives up and make their move as the gates open. No wonder Mrs Forbes was so nervous when he and O’Neil arrived.

‘And you did what?’ he asked.

Mrs Forbes looked up. ‘I followed them to the house.’

‘You let them in and handed it over, just like that?’

The housekeeper was nodding, her eyes misting over. ‘I was running late.’

Ryan tried not to look stunned. ‘I assume that with such important documents you asked to see some form of identification?’

Clearly not . . .

‘Mrs Forbes, would you like me to call your husband?’ O’Neil’s soft voice masked her irritation. She was trying to put the woman at ease, despite the urge to shake the living daylights out of her for not checking the ID of those collecting the briefcase. ‘I’m happy for him to join us if you’d like him here—’

‘No! Please don’t.’ The woman wiped away her tears, an expression of regret on her face. Fear even. Relations in the Forbes household were obviously strained.

Ryan drew up a chair and sat down. ‘Would it be correct to say that you and Mr Forbes have had words over this?’

Nodding vigorously, Mrs Forbes tucked her tissue up her sleeve and then pulled it out again, twisting it around the forefinger of her left hand. ‘After the police told my husband why the judge had returned to Scotland, Stuart went to look for the briefcase.’

‘But you’d already handed it over?’

‘Yes.’ The housekeeper was stalling, her distress over Trevathan’s demise morphing into guilt. She drew in a deep breath and let it out again before elaborating on her one-word reply. ‘I told the polis that the Lord President had ordered the case notes to be returned to court, that he was going to pass them on to another judge.’

‘That wasn’t true?’

‘Not strictly.’ Mrs Forbes was growing more and more agitated. Her master was no longer able to rebuke her, but his assertive gaze bore down on her from the portrait above the fireplace. She looked at the floor, a subservient pose, as if he were present in the room, demanding an answer. Ryan and O’Neil exchanged a troubled glance. The woman was clearly embarrassed by her stupidity.

‘Stuart was livid,’ she told them. ‘He said I’d be in a lot of trouble. Am I?’

‘Let’s not worry about that now,’ Ryan said.

‘How can I not? You’re suggesting they’re not who they said they were.’

He disregarded the statement. ‘Do you know if police called his chambers to verify the identity of these people?’

‘No, I’m sorry, I don’t.’ It was the first straight answer she’d given.

O’Neil’s nod was Ryan’s cue to get on the blower to Trevathan’s clerk. He got up and left the room to investigate while O’Neil carried on questioning the anxious housekeeper, who was bending over backwards to apologize.

‘I don’t know what possessed me, Superintendent. You must think me irresponsible for handing over such important documents to a couple of strangers. I know Stuart does. By then we knew there was something dreadfully wrong, though neither of us ever dreamt it would end the way it did. I can’t take it in.’

‘It must be distressing for both of you.’ O’Neil wasn’t there to play nursemaid. She got back on track before the woman lost it again – she needed her calm and providing information. ‘Of the couple who took it, which one handled the briefcase?’

‘The man did.’

‘Do you know what it contained?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘I find it hard to believe that you offered it up without checking what was inside, Mrs Forbes. It could have contained personal items, could it not?’

‘Yes, I suppose it could.’

O’Neil’s eyes were like lasers. ‘Did you look inside?’

‘I didn’t need to. The judge only has the one briefcase. I didn’t think that there might be anything personal in it at the time.’

‘Was it locked?’

‘I told you, I didn’t look inside.’ Mrs Forbes was wringing her hands. ‘Am I under suspicion?’

Ignoring the question, O’Neil took out her phone, tapped the recorder app and laid it on the table between them, an action that made the housekeeper even more petrified. ‘This is a formality,’ O’Neil explained. ‘There’s no need to be concerned. It’ll save me from having to write down what you say. You’ll have to make a formal statement in due course, but this is just for me. Is that OK with you?’

‘I have nothing to hide.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ O’Neil hoped Mrs Forbes was telling the truth. If she found out she wasn’t, she’d have no hesitation in charging her with attempting to pervert the course of justice or wasting police time. ‘I know it was a while ago, but I want you to think long and hard and describe these people for me – in as much detail as possible, please.’