Best Scotch in the World

Again the ravings of a lunatic. Fiction. Copyright by H20wader, Aug 15, 2005 Edited by midnight_raider. Because I change things after the edit all errors are mine and not the fault of my poor editor. He is good .

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I have an investigations company. I work mostly for one BIG insurance company, but I do some private stuff too. My company is Paul Redding Investigations or PRI. You know as in pry?

Me? I am an ex-cop who did not like traffic control. Or regular hours. Or the people I worked for. I went private seven years ago. After a diamond robbery went very had. Three dead and me bleeding to death. The EMS boys were very good. But I was medically disabled and retired from the force. Actually, that was more to cover up the blundering by the man in charge of the fiasco. The Chief of Police's only son. He was the one who moved too late and why I was bleeding to death.

Anyway.

I get this call from my major insurance client. They are looking at a claim for a lot of money on some stolen scotch. They want me to fly to Scotland, put the thief in jail and see how much of their money I could save. The owner is willing to cooperate. The fees were standard: $1000 a day plus reasonable expenses and reasonable was what I said it was.

I needed a cover. So I became a buyer and seller of imported scotch. It took two days to set that up. I needed people in the business who could vouch for me. Well, I had met a lot of people, so it was just a matter of calling in a few debts.

I took the business class seat on the plane to Edinburgh. There was a connector flight to a city about 200 miles away and on the coast. I wrote a story for Literotica and posted it from the plane. Add $2200 to my expense account.

The owner and the operating head of the distilling company was Bruce Campbell. He was 43 years old and in good physical shape. Average looking man. Brown over brown. A nice mustache. A bit of thinning up on top. Glasses. He met me at the airport and after the luggage was gathered in, we went to the hotel room I had reserved on his recommendation by email. The hotel was in the city about 50 miles from the distillery. We had dinner on his credit card and via room service. Dessert was a bottle of the best scotch in the world.

"Now for business." Bruce said. He opened the bottle and poured two tall ones.

"Ok, tell me what you know."

"The software I am using is telling me that I have 100 barrels of what you Americans booze and the physical inventory says I do not." He looked angry. 100 barrels was 5000 gallons. At replacement prices that was over $750,000 more probably. Excellent single malt scotch was a bull market. Of course this stuff could not be replaced. It took twenty years to make, age and bottle and sell.

"Someone is cooking your books." I now had a better idea why I was here.

"You mean someone inside is stealing from me? Right?"

"Yes. But you knew that when you called for help." Not an idea anymore, I knew why I was here.

"Aye, me lad and now you are going to catch the thief. Call me Bruce."

"OK, Bruce, I am not a policeman nor am I a constable. I have no authority in this country." There had to be more to it. I would wait. "And you can call me Paul."

"A copper on the premises would only scare him off. I want him in jail. Hell, I do not know how much he has stolen."

"Bruce, is your ex-wife still in the accounting department and does she know you called me?" I knew she was head of the department. The accounting department was the only place where the numbers could be changed. The insurance company told me who worked in the accounting department. The other stuff I had found out on my own. The divorce was final a year ago. She divorced him. The reasons were not mentioned in the signed papers.

"Do you know something I do not?" When a person answers a question with a question it is bad, very bad.

"Is she seeing anyone you do not trust?" Is she fucking around?

"She would not steal from me." The look in his eyes told me differently. His ex-wife is helping her lover steal from him.

"Now you are about to tell me that this man she is seeing has convinced her to help him steal for you."

"He is scum; he is only after her because she can help him." I could see the tears in his eyes.

"Look, we can be friends, we can work together. What do you want me to do?"

"Catch him stealing. Send him to jail for a long time."

"And her?"

"She cannot be involved. She would not steal from me." His eyes told me that he knew she was in way over her head.

"Bruce, my new friend, what do I do if she is involved?"

"She must pay the price. She goes to jail. Unless you can show my sweet Elspeth that he is scum and she turns her back on him." He was giving me a mission. But his mission was a bit different than the insurance company's mission. Theirs was simpler: Save us money. I could maybe do both.

"Does the insurance company know of this?" Is my ass covered with the company?

"No, you are here for my thief problem." Your ass is covered. "I know Vice President James Peterson very well. He recommended you."

Good old James Peterson, a heart of pure lead. In all the years I have known him, he has never showed anything except a mercenary mindset. I am pretty sure he is trying to get me killed. The cases he sends me on are dangerous as hell.

"Ok, Bruce, who is this charming lad?"

"Dennis McDonnell."

"Damn, will the feud never end? It has been over 500 years." Everyone knew about the slaughter of the Campbells by the McDonnells in the 1500's. The two clans were never that friendly anyway. After the massacre, the feud just seemed to go on and on and on.

"He is scum and he steals from me!!!"

"And he is a McDonnell!!!"

"And it has been over 500 years!!!" Ok, I could sense that this was not that old feud. This was a new thing.

"Has she married him?"

"Not that I know of. Why?"

"A woman cannot testify against her husband. Where do I find this lad?" Mission accepted.

"The pub in this town called the Boar and the Rooster." This explained why I was in this

hotel.

"Good. Tell your people I am here but not allowed in the distillery and that all business with my company will end at the first of the month. I have been diluting your stuff and selling it as the proper stuff. Make sure your ex-wife gets a copy first thing tomorrow. I want her to tell him about me. Pour me another one, please."

He picked up the half empty bottle. "There is a bag for you in the closet."

When Bruce left I was very tipsy so I went to bed. Bruce was a good man who had a wife, who as they say over here, fancied a scumball. She left her husband for the lover and now they were stealing. If he was right. But I knew he would have checked it carefully so he was right.

There was no hangover when I woke. Ah, yes, the glory of the best scotch in the world. I saw the bottle and of course it was empty. I checked my watch. It was 9 o'clock but I had forgotten to change the silly thing and I was a long way from California. Oh well. I showered shaved and dressed. I checked the closet and found the small bag. There was a very small digital recording cell phone. An expensive digital camera. There was also an 8 by 10 picture of dear Dennis.

I took out the cell phone\recorder and clipped it to my belt. I then headed down stairs for whatever it was they were serving. It turned out to be dinner. I ate well and ordered scones with butter for my room to be there when I returned later that night and headed out in search of one Dennis McDonnell at The Boar and the Rooster.

He was easy to find. He looked to be 30 or so, was well dressed, and had a loud mouth. He was buying drinks for his table when I arrived at the Boar and the Rooster. I had a few and I mean a few drinks (like in two) of the best scotch in the world and whined that the bastard Campbell had stopped selling his booze to me. It was just at that time when Dennis was getting another round. The recorder was on.

"That bastard Bruce Campbell has cut me off. He will not sell to me." I growled at the barkeep as he poured me a third drink.

"You have troubles with that Campbell bastard?" Dennis was quick to pick on that. Any enemy of my enemy is a friend of mine.

"Who are you and why do you need to know?"

"I am dating his ex-wife and he hates me so much I am not welcome in his village by that distillery."

"Well, I do not see how you can help me. Goodnight." I downed the drink and went to my room. I transferred the audio to a CD using my laptop. I posted the first night to the web site. I then ate some excellent scones with fresh butter.

I knew Dennis would check with Elspeth and I knew he would be looking for me. I did not have to hurry. Just wait and let Dennis do all the work.

The next night he was looking for me. As soon as I showed up he was beside me.

"The bastard will not sell to you because you were diluting his scotch."

I looked like he was a snake about to strike. Then I smiled at him. "Look, boy, I do not want the world to know of my business. I suggest you take your big mouth and go play with your mates." I moved away from him. I then had a couple and left. The scones were again delicious.

The third night he was there again. "We need to talk."

I faced him again. "It is very doubtful that you have anything I wish to hear."

"I can help you solve your supply problem."

"Do tell. Why don't we step outside and have a discussion." I walked out into the street turned left and found the alley that I knew would be there. I had looked earlier.

I was waiting when he followed me into the alley. The first blow got his belly. He doubled up. I waited a ten count and shoved him against the wall.

"Listen to me, you dumb asshole. You learn to not talk in crowded bars. You keep your mouth shut. Now you say you can help me with my supply problem. I have a big supple problem. I am going up to the distillery to talk to Campbell. I will let you know if I need help with my supply problem." I hit his gut again and let him drop to the dirty alley. I watched my back as I retuned to my hotel. Dennis did have mates.

My room had been tossed. There were no obvious clues but the telltales I had left were gone or disturbed. Nothing was missing, of course. They were stupid. A thief would have taken the camera and the laptop. I checked my paper supply; a lot was missing. Ah, so, one tossed and one printed. Excellent. But they should have stolen something. The camera and the laptop were in plain sight. So, I had been tossed and they had found what I wanted them to find. HOORAY for my side.

Each night I had transferred the audio to my laptop and posted it to the web site Bruce had set up. So far there was not much, but there was a good start. Now it was time to see the woman's side of the story.

I rented a car for a week. A very nice Jaguar. No, not that piece of shit Ford makes. A 1966 V12 in British racing green. A real two-seater with a very pleasant exhaust. I never could figure out these thing did not sale like they should. Maybe the high prices?

I drove to the village where Bruce had the family distillery. Family like in 400 years of making the best scotch. I checked in to the Bonnie Prince Charley Inn. I need a place while I was here so I took it for the week. Add another $250 to the expenses

Now to meet the former Ms. Bruce Campbell.

The village has grown over the past 400 years. But I had done my homework. Elspeth Duncan (she took her maiden name after the divorce. She did not take a large settlement. There was a pre-nuptial agreement. The marriage lasted. 12 years and 2 children. He got the kids and she got $1,200,000. One hundred thousand a year. He kept the manor house and she moved into a nice flat. She also had the job of supervising the accounting department at the distillery. Which paid pretty damn good. She was not hurting for money. I knew nothing about when or if she saw her children.

I walked around and looked at things. I want the lay out of the area I would be using. I do have a neat storage place for street and building and landmarks.

At 6 PM Scottish time, I was in a pub that she stops by on her way to her flat or maybe she will stay for an hour or two. At 6:15 she walked in with two of her work mates. I had pictures of the lady, but they only served as a recognition factor.

She was beautiful. She was tall at least 5-8. She carried herself like a member of the elite. Weight about 125. Legs that ran all the way up to her ass. An ass that would cause instant erection in mortal men. And maybe a few of the old time gods too. A narrow waist that lead up to her bosom. I think that is what tits on a lady are called. They were not big but even in the business suit, they were very noticeable and they looked good.

I finally got to her face. There was a lot of the Old Norse in this woman's blood line. Pale blonde hair worn in a French twist. . Blue eyes, a straight nose. Lips that were full and lush and as I have heard men say kissable. Not exactly where I would like to have them but that could do. Everything has to start somewhere.

She walked toward me behind her two friends. The two passed and I swung into her. The drink went on her blouse and down to her skirt. Her nipple jumped to erectness. So did I. She gasped. A sharp intake of breath like I have only heard when a woman is swiftly entered.

I began the verbal litany of apologies. It took her maybe five seconds to realize what had happened. I was blubbering. She started laughing. OK now this had never happened before. Anger, tears, curses, yes but laughter?

The ringing laughter finally stopped.

"My name is Elspeth, but you know that already. Who are you and why have you just ruined a 600 dollar suit to meet me? You are on an expense account. Tomorrow is Saturday. Here is my card with my home address. Meet me at 9 and we will pick out a replacement for this rag I am now wearing." She walked to her friends and they sat at a table

"What the fuck was that?" I sat back down at the bar and ordered another scotch. The mind was still seeing those eyes, the lack of anger, the sparkle as she laughed and that nipple that jumped up to meet me.

I tried to watch her out of the corner of my eyes but she seemed to be looking for that. She waved. Not a come here wave but a hi there wave. I left the pub.

The bed was comfortable. I did not sleep well. The thoughts roiled in my mind like tumbleweeds in the old western movies. What had gone wrong? How did she know? What did she know? And why could I not just go to sleep?

I did sleep because I woke up/ I did not remember the sleep. I did the morning thing. And dressed. I was to go shopping with her. Therefore casual. Walking shoes, white socks, Dockers, a pullover and a windbreaker. Breakfast would be on me after I picked her up.

I arrived in the Jag. It was 2 minutes til 9. I knocked on the door.

She opened the door. Her face assaulted me again. This time the hair was loose. Every thing else looked the same and had the exact same result on my anatomy.

"Right on time. Breakfast first, right?"

"Yes."

We walked to the car. I opened her door and she slid in. I closed the door. I was moving like a man stuck in glue. My eyes were too busy looking at her.

The business suit had been replaced by what I guess were her shopping clothes. Walking shoes. No nylons or panty hose. A skirt that was two inches short of the knees. A blouse again but not white, a green that made her eyes bigger somehow. The hair was loose and her face was framed. The lips were still what I wanted right down there.

I got behind the wheel. "Where to?"

Down six blocks. Right. To the red light. Left. Two blocks. Parking in the lot behind the building."

Now this I could do. I can follow directions. And I was doing fine until she moved and the skirt slid half way up her thigh. I pulled over to the side of the street.

"Elspeth, we both know that you are attractive. We both know I want to talk to you. Put the skirt back down and I will not crash this rented Jag. And maybe I can keep my hands off you long enough for both of us to answer some questions."

That smile was back. The sparkling eyes locked me to her.

"First we have breakfast. Second we shop for that suit. Third we have lunch. And fourth we will talk in the privacy of my flat."

"First we have breakfast. Second we shop for that suit. Third we have lunch. And fourth we will talk in the privacy of that open soccer field that is four blocks to the right of that red light we have not reached yet."

I waited. She waited. I waited. She reached down and pulled the skirt down, covering those lovely hairless thighs. I followed her directions. I drove to the Bonnie Prince Charlie Inn. Right where we both knew it was.

She waited for me to open her door. We enter the attached pub. The waitress knew her and seated her at a table at the front. People walking by could see us. She chattered on about the ships we would see, the extremely nice weather, and we ate. I can remember my Christmas presents every year of my life. I remember birthdays and holidays. I have no damn clue what I ate at that breakfast. I was able to make a few comments that let her know I was able to speak. She told the girl to put it on my bill and she left a very nice tip. All I said was room 109.

I had a feeling that this was not going to go well on the first stop. A lingerie shop. There were no men, just a lot of women. She took my hand and led me to the brassiere section. Gathered some and lead me to the changing rooms. There were chairs.

"Sit. Stay."

I sat. I stayed.

She was only maybe a minute and she was back. The sweater was gone the blouse was gone. She wore a black bra. It was black. It covered the lower part of her breasts and almost the nipples.

"What do you think?"

Think? All the blood my brain need was busy elsewhere. I nodded.

The second one was worse, or better depending on the hardness I was trying to make go away. This one was a light green and pushed her bosom up they looked like mountains with sharp peaks. I sighed and nodded.

I stood up. I handed her my credit card. "Elspeth, I will wait for you in the car." As well as I could, I marched out in to the sunlight.

With out me to play games with, she was out in 3 minutes with one small package. She gave directions, I drove. I parked. She went in and was out in 10 minutes. This time there was a large box, and two smaller bags. I put all of her purchases in the tiny boot of the Jag. She sat down, being very careful to not show those legs.

"We can go to the soccer field now."

This time there were no directions. I arrived at the field in three minutes. There was a huge empty parking lot. And two minutes later we were standing in the middle of the green grass.

"You know why I am here?"

"Certainly, Bruce hired you."

"Do you know why?"

"We really need a table and chairs for this talk. Yes, I know why he hired you. You are not the first." She was still smiling. I was now as lost as Bo Peep's sheep.

"Then I will tell him that I cannot help him as you know all about it. He can call in the constables."

Now it was her turn to look lost. "Constables?"

Hey the ball was in my court for a change. "The constables, coppers, the law, arrests, jail time."

"Can we sit on the damn bleachers?"

"Why not?"

She walked to the bleachers. I followed. She sat. I sat.

"Maybe you should ask the questions you wanted to ask first." She was no longer smiling. She was even lovelier.

"There has been some thievery at the distillery. Somewhere around a million dollars in American money. What can you tell me about it?"

"Mr.... What the hell is your name?"

"Redding, Paul Redding."

"You are a private investigator?"