[Episode 27]
"The winner ain't the one with the fastest car. It's the one who refuses to lose."*
Alex ran to the Range Rover and drove as fast as he knew how, back to the Johnstoun Police station on Ayr Road. When he arrived, he saw no marked police car (or any car for that matter) parked in front. He pounded on the door, but there was no sign of life. Jes had warned him when they went here previously that it was rarely staffed. And today was the Sabbath.
Alex searched on his phone awhile and came up with the number for the Regional Police Division headquarters in Dumfries. After several false trails, he got through to Sergeant Sandy Lindsay. He recognized at once the low but gentle voice of the outdoorsman.
“Aye, Mr. Maxwell. I mind ye well as Jessie’s friend. You were a wee bit fashed aboot a kidnapper, but ye hadna onythin ta to prove it.”
"Now it's more serious, Sergeant. He's taken, Jessie!"
“Lod! Tell me a ye ken.”
Alex laid out the story from Jessie's departure the night before to her failure to show up this morning to his search of her cottage and Graeme's signs.
"Whoa! Yon's quite a story, wi anely a wee bit o proof. Hoo do we ken that Jessie didna just gae for a lang hike in the Forest? She's excellent at the outdoors and could camp oot for twa-three days as easy as takin a … Weel, as easy as onythin."
“Because she didn’t! We were working on this case, and she was anxious to solve it. She’s been kidnapped, I tell you, and she’s in great danger.”
"Noo, noo - tak it easy, Mr. Maxwell. I'm fond of Jessie mysel, an I wouldna want ony harm to come to her. But ye ken we wait at least 48 hours for a missing person without signs of foul play."
“Forty-eight hours! She could be dead by then! I tell you there are signs of foul play!”
“A reet! A reet! I’ll tak a run ower to her cottage later this morn an see what I can see. But wi'oot clear evidence of violence, there's little the constabulary can do immediately.”
Alex had dealt with many police bureaucracies and recognized the brick wall he faced. He knew he’d have to solve this on his own. “Thank you, Sergeant. Please do all you can do. I believe strongly that her life is in danger.”
“I onnerstan. I’ll let you know onythin I fin oot. Meantime, ye just go back to your place and try to tak it easy until we can do somethin.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.” Alex was fuming but saw no benefit for Jessie in angering the only policeman who might take him semi-seriously.
But he had no intention of taking it easy. He drove as fast as he could back to see Mrs. McTavish.
*The winner ain't the one with the fastest car - Ralph Dale Earnhardt Sr., son and father of race car drivers, regarded as one of the greatest drivers in NASCAR history. AKA "The Intimidator", "The Man in Black", and "Ironhead," Earnhardt died in a sudden last-lap crash during the Daytona 500 in 2001 at the age of 49.
Fo Bhruid 2
Jessie’s reasoning seemed to have exhausted what little she could deduce from the situation. How had he gotten her without her being aware? But then, Alex had told her that Graham was an expert at this. Had she locked her door? She couldn't remember. But with the disdain Alex had for her latch, it probably didn't matter. She had meant to replace it, but she'd been so busy with the chase.
The chase. Whit a laugh. They had chased, and now Graham had caught her!
Then Jessie thought Alex would be on the chase when she didn’t show up this morning. Was it morning? What day?
Caum yersel doon, she thought. Save yer strenth Soon enough, she would need to contend with a master criminal!
After an indeterminable time, she heard a key in a lock and the sound of a door opening. It was him! Lie perfetly still, she told herself. It's yer wee advauntage.
Jessie heard footsteps and then a low, soft voice. "Still sleeping, my beauty? I did give you a lot." She felt fingers on her neck. Somehow she didn't flinch. "Your pulse is good. You'll be awake soon, and we can talk. Yes, you can do some talking." With that, she heard the footsteps and the door closing. The key turned.
“Chi non è impaziente non è innamorato”*
Alex slid the Rover into the Tonderghie House drive at high speed, kicking up a cloud of dust. Mrs. McTavish had been waiting for him and appeared at her door as he exited the SUV. Alex began telling the story even as he hurried across to her. They moved to her parlor as he recounted all he had seen and surmised and his futile call with Sergeant Lindsey.
“Och, oor Sergeant Sandy is ane tae gae by the buik, areet. Ye’ll neer get him to move faster than he believes is reet.”
“I know that. I’ll have to find Jessie on my own.”
“Och. Is that safe?’
“I worry about that. What if he has a gun? I couldn’t bring mine on the plane, and it's too short notice to buy one. But I’ve got to save Jes, no matter the risk!”
“Gin it's a pistol you be wantin, my dear-depairted husband, Robert, had ane, bless his soul.”
“Really. A gun?”
"Indeed, it is. He bought it an licensed it after he left the King's Own Scottish Borderers at Dumfries. He was uised tae firearms in the military, an we needed it to keep a lid on the rattons and an ither ferm vermin aroon here. After he deed, I've kept it licensed."
“Does it work after all this time?” Alex asked.
“Does it work, he asks! Why I ken my way aroon a gun as weel as any man. I’s been a marksman since I was a bairn, and ma da taught me tae shoot rattons. It's cleaned and loaded and ready to fire!”
“Mrs. McTavish! I could kiss you!” The matron blushed deeply at the words of the handsome American.
“Now I need one more help. We must go see your friend, Annie, the postmistress. She’s our only hope to locate Graham.”
“But she’ll be on her roonds in Lanark the noo. She should be back at the Kenmuir post afore noon.”
“Noon!” Alex looked at his watch. It was 10:40. Where had the morning gone? How long had Graham had Jessie? What might he have done to her already? “Could we drive to Lanark?”
“Nae, we’d miss her on the way. Best to wait in Kenmuir. You tak it easy for a moment. Save your strenth. . I’ll fetch some tea and biscuits. (Morag’s answer to any difficulty).”
Reluctantly, Alex consented. As he sat and waited for his snack, he kept turning in his mind everything he knew, looking for some key to finding Jessie.
The next hour was the most challenging time in all of Alex Maxwell’s life. The previous two contenders – when he was fourteen and had three wisdom teeth pulled the same day, or when he was seventeen, and his date dumped him eight hours before the prom because she’d been asked by the star running back on the football squad, which meant he was left to cry alone at home – seemed to fade to nothingness compared to waiting, with nothing to do, while that beautiful lassie was in the cruel hands of Graham.
Even though it was only seven minutes to the post office, Alex insisted at twenty of twelve that they depart. Morag Mctavish was a strong woman who had faced all of the Galloway back-country's dangers and challenges in her 62 years. But, ever after, she swore that she nivver been sae feart as she was on that six-minute drive with the crazy yank!
When they got to the office (which was just a counter at the side of a fabric shop), at eleven fifty-three, Annie was nowhere to be seen. Alex paced vigorously up and down the walk in front. When the Bell from St. Ninian’s church tower tolled noon, Alex went ballistic. “Where the hell is she? You said she’d be here by noon!”
"I said aroon noon. Gallowa time ..."
“Arrggghhhh.” Alex wanted to swear but had too much consideration for Morag. Somehow he waited out the postmistress.
*Chi non è impaziente non è innamorato - He Who Is Not Impatient Is Not In Love – Italian Proverb
Fo Bhruid! 3
Time passed. Jessie's head was clearing, but she wasn't any closer to what was happening or how she might escape. Her mouth still felt like cotton-wool, and her thirst was becoming mind-consuming. And she felt the need to piss.
The key turned. The door opened. The footsteps approached. Jessie waited. Then, suddenly, without warning, a hand touched her right nipple. She cried out in surprise.
“So you are awake, my dear. Playing possum, were we? Let's let you see, shall we?
Hands loosened the blindfold and then removed it. There were intense lights shining down on Jessie, and the light completely blinded her. Gradually her eyes adjusted, and she could see around her. And then, she saw him.
Leaning over her was a large, burly man, stripped to the waist. His face was not handsome. He was rather homely with small, piggish eyes and big ears. But his expression, in defiance of the circumstances, was soft and caring.
“Good morning, Jessie. I’m so glad we finally meet face to face. I feel I know you like an old friend. I’ve had my eyes on you for so long now. And, speaking of eyes, may I say that yours are most fetching. A man could easily get lost in them.”
Jessie was taken aback by the sweet, flattering talk. What kind of an evil criminal was this? She decided it was best to play along with his courteous manners.
"Guid mornin tae you, Sir. Howaneer, you hae the advauntage o kennin ma neme, whiles I dinna ken yourn. An forby, wid ye be sae kind as tae relaise me?"
“Now, Jessie. That is not the best way for our relationship to begin. You are not being honest at all. You know my name – I've heard you use it. My legal name is John Gregham. My father's family is from Falkirk. I've chosen to use Graeme as my 'professional' name. It was the name of a freebooter in old Galloway. He was famous for burning to death the Gordon of Muirfad. My uncle Gordon disdained my mother after she married against his will. I always wanted to take my vengeance on the Gordons and all of Galloway, just as Graeme did. How better than to use their ancestral home as the base of my business."
“Aye, I hae heerd o yon Graeme,” said Jessie. She was still trying to process how Alex could have profiled the man’s chosen pseudonym so closely. “He was a gey ill-thochtit chiel. He killt the Gordon by braisant leein an traison.”
I seem to have"readers" who don't believe in actually reading! From the very first episode:
