‘Yes. But what’s your point?’ Deal said.
‘It was something you said,’ Harry continued. ‘You said you heard a plane coming over the house so low that you thought it was going to crash into it.’
Deal stared into space for a moment. ‘Yes, I did.’
‘Did anybody else hear it?’
Deal drank some more water. ‘The drinks were flowing. If anybody else did, then they didn’t say anything. It was mid-evening and people were already half-gassed.’
‘What’s your line of thinking here, Harry?’ Dunbar said.
‘If the plane flew out from the airstrip at the hotel next door, it would still have to fly onto the flight path. You saw it heading away from the hotel, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Deal said, ‘I did. He was heading in the right direction.’
‘Then how did he end up coming back over the hotel when he shouldn’t have been anywhere near it?’
Deal didn’t answer for a moment. ‘I have no idea,’ he said quietly.
‘I’m assuming because he was so low, he would have been under the radar,’ said Harry. ‘Just like he was when he took off. But when he climbed, he was on the radar in the control tower. Then, when he dipped below it, he could have turned back and landed again. Just like he would have if he had picked up his friends from the mainland. Except he never got to the mainland. He turned around and flew straight back.’
‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘How long between him taking off and you hearing the plane come back over?’ Dunbar asked.
Deal shrugged. ‘Fifteen minutes maybe. I thought maybe he’d changed his mind, and was coming back because of the weather or something, but then he didn’t appear so I thought it was maybe somebody else. Some other idiot flying a plane. Then I had a few drinks and didn’t think about it again.’
‘I don’t think Murdo was flying the plane that night. Coming back, I mean. He might have taken off in it, but his killer was with him and his killer landed the plane,’ Harry said.
‘Why wouldn’t he just have killed Murdo on the ground?’ Deal asked.
‘Despite the bad weather, there were a lot of people going about for the party. Somebody might have seen him. It was a lot easier for the killer to kill Murdo on the plane than on the ground.’
‘So his killer took off with him, killed him in mid-air and brought him back?’ Deal said.
‘That’s what I think. The question is, who killed him? And where could the plane have been hidden?’
Twenty-Four
‘What’s all the commotion?’ Brian Gibbons said as he walked into the living room.
‘Where were you last night, Mr Gibbons?’ Harry asked him.
‘I had a few drinks here with Thomas, then I went to bed. Why?’
‘Oh, nothing much. Just that somebody tried to kill me and Miss Galbraith.’
‘What? Jesus Christ. I hope you don’t think it was me?’
Harry looked at the man standing before him, dressed in sweatpants and a grubby tee shirt, and thought no, that wasn’t the man who’d tried to attack him with a hammer. However, Brian had enough money to pay somebody to do it. What the motive would be, Harry didn’t know yet.
‘We’d like to talk to you in private,’ Harry said. ‘The kitchen should do.’
He and Dunbar followed the big man through.
‘Jesus, this is getting worse,’ Brian said, switching the kettle on. ‘Shall I be Mother?’
‘Sit down,’ Dunbar said.
‘I think better when I’ve sobered up. Let me tell you, that old boy can’t half shift the drink. I thought I could put it away, but by God he has hollow legs.’
Dunbar got Harry to use the photo app on his phone to start recording. ‘You didn’t leave the house last evening?’ Harry said as they sat down at the table across from Brian.
‘No. Me and Tom sat and reminisced. Had a few whiskies. Then I had some beer. Actually, Tom was on the vodka. I don’t know how he did it. I carry a few extra pounds and can absorb more, but by God he gave me a run for my money.’
‘Neither of you left the house?’
Brian shook his head and gave a little laugh. ‘Neither of us was in a fit state.’
‘Missy said she didn’t see anybody when she came in to get her things,’ Harry said.
Brian shrugged. ‘We were in the living room having a drink. Maybe that was after she came and went. How would I know? All I do know is that we were in here drinking.’
‘How long were you married to Shona?’ Dunbar asked.
Brian looked longingly at the kettle as it switched itself off. ‘Just one cup. My head’s buzzing and my throat feels like it’s been slit.’ He started to smile but then it fell off.
‘Hurry up,’ Dunbar said.
‘You two want one?’
‘No,’ Harry said.
‘I won’t gob in it. It’s only instant, but it’s good stuff.’
‘Just get on with it,’ Dunbar said.
‘Suit yourself.’ Brian moved about the kitchen with finesse, like some overweight people move on the dance floor, but his particular partner was a carton of milk from the fridge.
‘Right, there we are.’ He sat down at the table and slurped some of the hot liquid. ‘Oh, ya bastard. That’s hot. Maybe I should put some more milk in.’
‘Stay there,’ Harry said. ‘Now, again, how long were you married to Shona?’
Brian smiled. ‘Too long.’
‘What does that mean?’ Harry said.
‘I know it means you’re looking at me through a different pair of eyes now, thinking that I was the one who ran into the car with that machine, but I wasn’t. I don’t know who it was, but I think they did me a favour.’
The detectives looked at each other before concentrating on Brian again.
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong,
