“They’re not relevant,” Sir Percy replied. “The caves wouldn’t help your quarry to sneak into Dundrillin even if he did manage to discover them, which is hardly likely. Besides, the islanders hold the caverns to be something of a sacred site. They don’t like outsiders knowing about them, and I didn’t care to betray their confidence.”
“I’m afraid that the people of Erinskil have other reasons for concealing the caverns,” said Damian. “Peter failed to explore the tunnels thoroughly, Sir Percy, but Lori and I did not. I believe that what we found there will be of interest to you.”
“Do tell,” said Sir Percy.
“We discovered twelve airtight chests,” said Damian, in a calm, dispassionate voice. “Eleven were filled with currency adding up to millions of pounds. The twelfth held valuable antiquities.”
“Millions of pounds, do you say?” Sir Percy’s eyebrows shot up. “My goodness, but the islanders are thrifty. Can’t blame them for avoiding banks. The fees are outrageous. And who’s to say that the caverns aren’t just the place to store Granny’s gewgaws?”
“Sir Percy,” Damian said patiently, “the objects we found can’t possibly be described as gewgaws. They should be in the British Museum. As for the cash . . .” He pursed his lips. “It grieves me to tell you this, but I strongly doubt that the money Lori and I found was earned through any legitimate enterprise. If you’ll permit me to explain . . .”
“I’m all ears, old man,” said Sir Percy, leaning forward in his chair.
For the next half hour, Damian walked Sir Percy through the long list of clues we’d accumulated, from the light on Cieran’s Chapel to the well-maintained ringbolt and the old laird’s overlarge grave; from the antitourist campaign’s myriad manifestations to the man-made rockfall that blocked the third tunnel.
“The islanders have invested heavily in their own comfort,” said Damian, “but they’ve virtually ignored tourist accommodations. In fact, they’ve made it quite difficult for tourists to visit Erinskil. Why?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” said Sir Percy encouragingly.
“I believe that they don’t want anyone to visit Erinskil,” said Damian. “I believe that Elspeth MacAllen diverted your post, sir, in order to prevent the Seal Conservation Trust from building a research facility on the island, because a research facility would bring strangers to the island—something the islanders have gone to great lengths to avoid.”
“You make my people sound positively antisocial,” Sir Percy protested.
“When it comes to outsiders, sir,” Damian stated, “your people are antisocial. The lack of a tourist trade hasn’t hurt them, however. On the contrary, they live lives of relative splendor.”
“The tweed business has been very kind to them,” said Sir Percy.
“It must be clear to you, as a businessman, that the tweed mill can’t produce enough income to pay for the luxuries the islanders enjoy.” Damian tented his fingers. “It is my belief, Sir Percy, that the islanders are supplementing their incomes by trafficking in drugs. Drug shipments are deposited by major dealers on Cieran’s Chapel, transferred from there to Alasdair Murdoch’s fishing boats, and taken by boat to the mainland. The islanders store their cash profits in the cavern temporarily, until they can launder them by means of the tweed mill. As a side business, they sell or fence stolen antiquities on the black market. Such enterprises function best away from the public eye. It is, therefore, in the islanders’ best interest to discourage tourism.”
“Fascinating,” marveled Sir Percy, leaning his chin on his hand. “I hope you haven’t troubled our young friends with your disturbing revelations. I wouldn’t want their stay on Erinskil to be spoiled.”
“Cassie started the ball rolling,” I told him. “She’s convinced that everyone on Erinskil is involved in a criminal conspiracy. That’s why she didn’t want Mrs. Gammidge to call for Dr. Tighe. That’s why she was so frightened when Peter went missing. She thought Peter had been abducted, possibly murdered, because he’d gotten too close to the truth.”
Sir Percy drew such a sorrowful breath that I almost wished we hadn’t ventured beyond the man-made rockfall. He rose from his chair, shook his head, and walked slowly to stand before the fire. His shoulders drooped as he contemplated the flames, as if a heavy weight had fallen on them, but his expression was oddly quizzical when he turned to face us.
“I never realized you had such a vivid imagination, Damian,” he said. “I thought you were all business, all the time, but clearly I was mistaken. I am, I confess, somewhat taken aback by your portrait of my people. Thieves? Kidnappers? Murderers? What else, I wonder?” His eyes sought mine. “I knew you were inquisitive, Lori, but I’d rather hoped that concern for your own safety, and that of your sons, would override any desire you might have to nose about Erinskil. I should have known better.”