orchestra, Isabel noted—Isabel found herself standing next to Minty, who took her 2 1 8
A l e x a n d e r M c C a l l S m i t h arm gently and steered her over towards the fireplace. There were even more invitations on the mantelpiece than last time, Isabel noticed, although she could not read them now (except for one, which was in large print, presumably to allow for easy reading by one’s guests).
“I’m very pleased that you could come,” said Minty, her voice lowered. Isabel realised that this was not a conversation to be overheard, and when she replied she spoke in similarly hushed tones.
“I sensed that you wanted to talk to me.”
Minty’s gaze moved slightly to one side. “There is something, actually,” she said. “I gather that you are interested in McDowell’s. I’ve heard that you’ve been speaking to Johnny Sanderson.”
Isabel had not expected this. Had somebody reported to Minty that she had been in a huddle with Johnny at the whisky tasting?
“Yes, I’ve spoken to him. I know him slightly.”
“And he’s been talking to people at McDowell’s. He used to work there, of course.”
Isabel nodded. “I know that.”
Minty took a sip of wine. “Then do you mind my asking: What is your interest in the firm? You see, first you asked Paul about it, and then you start talking to Johnny Sanderson, and so on, and this makes me wonder why you’re suddenly so interested. You’re not in a financial job, are you? So what explains the interest in our affairs?”
“Your affairs? I didn’t realise you worked for McDowell’s.”
Minty bared her teeth in a tolerant smile. “Paul’s affairs are closely linked with mine. I am, after all, his fiancee.”
Isabel thought for a moment. On the other side of the room, Jamie looked in her direction and they exchanged glances. She T H E S U N D A Y P H I L O S O P H Y C L U B
2 1 9
was uncertain what to do. She could hardly deny the interest, so why not tell the truth?
“I was interested,” she began. “I was interested, but not any longer.” She paused. Minty was watching her, listening intently.
“I’m no longer involved. But I was. You see, I saw a young man fall to his death a little while ago. I was the last person he saw on this earth and I felt that I had to enquire about what had happened.
He worked for McDowell’s, as you know. He knew something untoward was happening there. I wondered whether there was a link. That’s all.”
Isabel watched the effect of her words on Minty. If she was a murderess, then this was as good as a direct accusation. But Minty did not blanch; she stood quite still; there was no shock, no panic, and when she spoke her voice was quite even. “So you thought that this young man had been disposed of ? Is that what you thought?”
Isabel nodded. “It was a possibility I felt that I had to look into. But I’ve done so and I realise that there’s no proof of anything untoward.”
“And who might have done it, may I ask?”
Isabel felt her heart beating loud within her. She wanted to say:
Minty put her glass down and raised a hand to her temple, which she massaged gently, as if to aid thought. “You evidently have a rich imagination. I doubt very much if anything like that happened,” she said. “And anyway, you should know better than to listen to anything Johnny Sanderson had to say. You know he was asked to leave McDowell’s?”
“I knew that he had left. I didn’t know in what circumstances.”
Minty now became animated. “Well, maybe you should have 2 2 0
A l e x a n d e r M c C a l l S m i t h asked. He didn’t see eye to eye with people there because he was unable to adjust to new circumstances. Things had changed. But it was not just that, it was because he was suspected of insider deals, which means, in case you don’t know, that he used confidential information to play the market. How do you think he lives as he does today?”
Isabel said nothing; she had no idea how Johnny Sanderson lived.
“He has a place up in Perthshire,” Minty went on, “and a whole house in Heriot Row. Then there’s a house in Portugal, and so on. Major assets all over the place.”
“But you never know where people get their money from,”
said Isabel. “Inheritance, for a start. It might be inherited wealth.”
“Johnny Sanderson’s father was a drunk. His business went into receivership twice. Not a notoriously good provider.”
Minty picked up her glass again. “Don’t listen to anything he tells you,” she said. “He hates McDowell’s and anything to do with them. Take my advice and keep away from him.”
The look which Minty now gave Isabel was a warning, and Isabel had no difficulty in interpreting it as a warning to stay away from Johnny. And with that she left Isabel and returned to Paul’s side. Isabel stood where she was for a moment, looking at a picture beside the mantelpiece. It was time to leave the party, she thought, as her hostess had clearly indicated that such welcome as she had been accorded had now expired. Besides, it was time to walk up the Mound to the museum and to the lecture on Beckett.
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