Free The Whisky Affair (Raymond Armstrong Series) by Michael J Gill Page A

so unsettled by what he’d found.

 
     
     
CHAPTER 19
     
     
    Willy was in the distillery with shoulders slumped and expression grave. When he noticed Raymond standing in the doorway he shook his head sadly.
    “Thought you were himself… I can’t believe Gordon has gone.” Willy’s expression was bleak, his shoulders slumped.
    “I know. A sad day… Willy, could I buy you a coffee? I would like to quiz you on your special wedding edition whisky.”
    “Aye, Noble Bute, the big peaty expression. Why do you ask about that expression at a time like this?”
    “I think something is a tad strange about Gordon’s death. He hardly ever drank the last few years, except on business.”
    “Aye, you are right there. I was surprised when they said he was drinking when he died. And alone, he was. Yes, I’ll take a wee break and see you down in the visitor’s lounge in five minutes. Cream and sugar for me.”
    Raymond brought two coffees to a quiet table in the lounge. He knew he must stay calm around the people at the distillery. He must keep his suspicions about Gordon’s death – the possibility of his friend’s murder – to himself. Perhaps his curiosity was fuelled by a need to know why this happened now, when things had been going so well for his lifelong friend…and by Raymond’s disbelief that his friend was actually gone… Or was it the pervasive feeling of emptiness and loss that was driving Raymond to find another reason, beyond a heart attack?
    People died every day…but not a best friend.
    Was he making a mountain out of a mole hill? Or were his suspicions logical and worth investigating? Regardless, he had very little to go on and until he had more, keeping his thoughts secret was necessary.
    Life must go on as normal and just maybe he was totally wrong and Gordon’s death was just what they said it was, and perhaps too, Gordon’s palette had changed overnight. Not likely. But was it possible Gordon, would be enjoying a good peaty malt, alone in his office, with his favourite whisky so close by…? Not likely .
    Five minutes later, Willy appeared. Raymond swallowed down his sorrow that Willy also obviously felt. He wanted to let down his guard with this old employee, and raise his suspicions about Gordon’s death – to focus his thoughts on several possible crime scenarios but he remained composed as he watched Willy nod approvingly at the coffee he handed him. After Willy sat down, Raymond chatted with him about what the loss of Gordon would mean to the distillery.
    “So remind me of the phenols per million in that special edition?” he finally asked Willy.
    “Sixty-five. It was a bit of fun for me actually. You know Bute rarely offers a peaty whisky. We have a hint of the sea in all our whiskies and take the Oban and Bruichladdich comparisons with immense pride – that was what we were after. We are not a Lowland and are officially a Highland distillery by…oh, two miles,” he said sarcastically. “The Highland fault line runs through the middle of Rothesay. But most whisky experts put us and our neighbours on Arran under lowland. All island whiskies have a noticeably different character to whisky produced by our colleagues in the Lowlands with its softer, lighter whisky. We are still pushing the Scottish Whisky Association to make islands its own official region.”
    “So, 65 phenols are very high. How smoky?”
    “ Very! I asked the malting company to source the peat from the top north east corner of Scotland. It’s not like Islay or the heather-influenced peat on the Orkneys. This was in-your-face peat, smoke, bonfire, and night all in a bottle. What did Gordon think? Never saw him drink the stuff or make a comment. Louisa loved it to death and asked me to think about producing another batch.”
    “Was Gordon here the night of his attack?”
    “Probably, I had gone home at tea time. I started at 6:00 that morning and had all the work finished by tea time. Louisa was taking the