Page 223 of The Moon Sister
‘What is it?’
‘It’s him, Fraser. Oh my God!’ I shook my head. ‘It’shim!’
‘Sorry, Tiggy, I’m not following you.’
‘That hat, the one I described to the police as a trilby, it washim!’ I repeated.
‘I’m really sorry, but you’re making no sense. Just try and tell me calmly what you mean.’
‘I’m trying to tell you, Charlie, that it was Fraser I saw that night out in the glen. It was him who shot Pegasus and nearly killed me!’
‘But . . . how can you be sure?’
‘I already told you – it’s that hat he was wearing just now. I saw his shadow on the carpet and it was exactly the same as his shadow on the snow. I’m one hundred per cent positive, Charlie.’
‘It’s a Canadian Mountie hat – and yes, I suppose it is a similar shape to a trilby. Well, it wouldn’t surprise me,’ he said, as he came over to place a cup of tea in my shaking hand, then thought better of it and put it next to me on the centre unit. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Tiggy?’
‘Yes! But what are we going to do? I mean, you know I’m a liberal, but I’m absolutely not prepared to let him get away with killing Pegasus! The detective I saw at the hospital said whoever did it could have killed me too, that he might not only be charged for poaching a rare breed, but possibly attempted murder too.’
‘Then let’s phone the police immediately.’ Charlie made to stand, but I put an arm out to stop him.
‘Wait a bit, while we think about what’s best. I mean, if the police do interview him, Fraser’s bound to deny it, and Ulrika will probably give him an alibi, knowing her. Can you remember where she was the night I was shot?’
‘I have a feeling she was back up at Kinnaird . . . yes, she was, because the next day she had to drive all the way down to North Yorkshire to pick up Zara for her exeat weekend. No wonder she was suddenly keen to be up here all the time.’ Charlie raised an eyebrow.
‘Damn,’ I swore. ‘Well, given the circumstances, she’s bound to lie to protect him. Still, I know the police have got the bullet that went through me, and the casing, which they can trace to a gun—’
‘Which is probably sitting in Fraser’s barn as we speak.’
‘Fraser could go to prison for this,’ I said.
‘Or not, actually, if he gets an alibi from Ulrika, plus a shit-hot defence team. Let me tell you, these things can go either way,’ Charlie warned. ‘I’ve been called in to testify in a couple of murder trials when it’s been obvious to me that the victim died of more than natural causes, but the defendant has walked away scot-free.’
‘Oh,’ I said, feeling deflated. ‘But surely, it wouldn’t help his claim on Kinnaird if the judge knew he was being prosecuted for shooting a rare breed on the very estate he wants to own?’
‘Sorry, Tiggy, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t work like that. Shooting a rare breed wouldn’t be considered material evidence in the court case, although I agree, it wouldn’t help put him in a good light.’
There was a pause in the conversation as we both caught our breath.
‘Charlie,’ I said eventually. ‘I’m just thinking . . .’
‘What?’
‘Well, I’m wondering if there’s any way we could use the fact that I now know it was Fraser who took a potshot at me to help you?’
Charlie stared at me. ‘You mean, blackmail him?’
‘Umm, yes, I suppose I do. What about if I told him I recognised him as the man who shot at me and Pegasus that night? That I was going to call the police immediately? Unless . . . because heisfamily, and you didn’t want a scandal, I was preparednotto go to the police as long as he gave up his claim to Kinnaird, left the country and went back into whichever hole he crawled out of. The question is, how do you think he’d react? Would he brazen it out or would he jump on the next plane back to Canada with Ulrika in tow?’
‘Who knows? The thing about bullies – and let’s face it, that’s exactly what Fraser is – is that underneath, they’re all cowards at heart. But, Tiggy, this is too much to ask – surely you want to see him in jail for what he put you through?’
‘I lived, didn’t I? It’s Pegasus’s death I want to avenge, and if what I know can save Kinnaird from being destroyed by the man who murdered him, I’d say that’s good enough for me –andhim.’
‘A lot depends on whether he’s held on to that gun or not,’ mused Charlie.
‘Does Cal know where his cottage is?’
‘Of course he does. Why?’
