Market for murder, p.12
Market for Murder, page 12
“MacDonald? Really?” she queried. She smiled at him. “Maybe an ancestor of mine?”
“Ah, lassie, there are many MacDonalds, but aye, perhaps at some point. Now, I be the one who should be asking really?”
“Really. My dad’s parents are from here.”
“And you walk about like a tourist,” he said, nodding. “But you are no tourist.”
“You saw me with a friend of yours—who?” Carly asked.
“Why, Kaitlin, of course,” he told her. “Friends in life, friends in death. Human flesh will always wear away, but the love in the human soul stays forever.”
“And what about the sickness in a human being?” she asked him, wincing.
But he seemed to know she was here because of what was happening.
He shook his head. “There are people about. Come. Let’s walk across the yard a bit, we’re too close to the Black Mausoleum, the resting place of Bloody Mackenzie, and far too many come to see it.”
She followed him, aware that Daniel and Luke were near, but trying to give her time to achieve a rapport with the spirit before they joined them.
“So, as I said, lass, Kaitlin was a dear friend then, and now. And we lived through that dreadful time when resurrectionists were tearing up graves, and Burke and Hare were creating their own corpses.”
“She knew the boy, Jamie—”
“As did I. Poor lad. His feet were so severely deformed, but he had a heart of gold. Nothing to his name but the true care he gave to all.” He paused, shaking his head. “Now, I also knew the two blokes, Burke and Hare—both men named William, therefore I will make it easy and make use of their surnames. The oddity of it all. Burke could be quite the gentleman. He worked real jobs at times, a cobbler, sometimes. He would entertain his customers and those around them, singing and dancing...he could be fine and polite. Now, Hare—the wretched bloke who turned state’s witness and went free despite the horror of his crimes—was a wretch of a man. Rude, abrasive...not a fine fellow to be about in any way. Strange law, not guilty nor innocent but not proven let both the wives go free as well, though if they participated or not, I cannot say. But did they suspect or know? Most certainly.”
“I’m so sorry,” Carly murmured.
“We’ve witnessed much here, a country within a nation, so much bloodshed, but...now, as then, there is little quite so horrid as the thieving of one man’s—or woman’s—life, for the profit that’s to be made from such a murder.” He paused, still shaking his head at the events, as long ago as they had now been. “And Knox! Sorry, Doctor Knox, Robert Knox, not the reformer John Knox, but the anatomist! As if he—when his students recognized a few of the lasses plying the streets—turned a blind eye, a truly blind eye. Yet, at the trial, Knox said he had no knowledge of how the pair had acquired their corpses. The horse’s arse! Begging your pardon, young lass—”
“It’s quite all right,” Carly said.
“Hare, of course, and his wife ran from Edinburgh, good thing. I’d have given the fellow a good auld burking if I’d had the chance, and like as not, I suppose, I’d have faced the hangman’s noose. Knox, I do believe, lost his glittering reputation and left town as well, and...”
He let his words whisper away, but he looked at her, frowning a bit worriedly, and told her, “We’re being followed.”
She smiled again. “Those are my friends, sir. And they’re...they see you as well, and, yes, they can hear you and speak with you.”
“How very, very strange!” he said. He looked at her. “Time goes by, so much time...”
She decided she’d try to explain quickly. “There’s a gentleman in the United States who founded a special unit of our FBI, I’m sorry, one of the American—”
“I know FBI,” he assured her. “I loved—and still love—the theater. But I was quite entertained when I first saw the television come into being. Quite fascinating, what one can learn from it.” He wrinkled his nose. “Then there are shows... Forgive me, lass, I digress! But the FBI—”
“Works mainly in the States. This gentleman, alive and well himself, knew about people who could communicate with those who had shed their earthly flesh but remained. And he had also spent his life helping others and was well-known by the right people, so he formed a special unit composed of people—like me. And we’ve recently formed an international unit, helping when called or when there might be an American suspect or...”
“Strange killing, eh?”
She nodded. “And those gentlemen—Daniel is with the National Crime Agency here, and Luke, the very tall gentleman, and I are part of the same team.”
“Ah, so...”
“Speak freely. We’ve been hoping so desperately for help, though, of course, lest they lock us up, we don’t explain to others how we received that help.”
“Aye, and they’d be throwing you all out of court were you to try!” he said grimly.
“Most likely. And seriously, for a good reason. There was a time when they burned or hanged innocent midwives and others for being witches and—”
“Lass, I am aware of history. And aye, I understand. But these gentlemen—”
“Are truly my friends, and as determined as I am to end this horror that is occurring in this beautiful, beautiful city!”
He nodded. Carly beckoned Luke and Daniel, and they joined her and her ghost. The men and Carly ambled slowly as if they were about to discuss more of the sights.
Carly introduced them to Keith, and Luke and Daniel grinned. “MacDonald? A relative?”
“Perhaps,” Keith said. “And proud I’d be if it were a fact,” the ghost assured him.
“I’ve been so hoping,” Daniel said.
“Sir,” Luke told him, “we are truly proud to have made your acquaintance. We do believe we’re moving forward. We are discovering certain clues, but we’re hopeful—”
“Aye, hopeful that I may give you a name!” the ghost said. “What I know is this. I saw it but once, on a lovely lass, and she walked from the pub just fine, having imbibed a bit, but not...it was not until the gentleman stopped her, told her she must try one last drink. He followed her from the pub with that glass in his hand. She was still so sweet, saying she didnae need more to drink, and he kept begging her, please, just to taste, it was his family’s special brew. And so she agreed, ever determined to just be polite and cordial. But then, even as she drank, the small van came by, and she was whisked into the vehicle, and it was the next morning that she was discovered.”
Carly felt her phone vibrating and realized that Luke’s and Daniel’s phones had gone off as well. She excused herself and pulled her phone from her pocket and keyed in.
The message was from Brendan Campbell. It was short and sweet. Artist finished the rendering.
He was sending out the artist’s image of the man Flora MacDonald had seen at the Connoly house.
The man who had grabbed Flora’s arm at the café that morning. Carly looked at Daniel and Luke.
The sketch quickly appeared on her screen. She knew they had all received it, and she glanced at Daniel first, wanting to see his reaction since he’d been closest and had seen more of the exchange between Flora and the man.
Then she looked at Luke again.
Luke nodded to her.
She turned to her newfound ghost friend and asked him, “Keith, was this the man you saw with the young woman, running after her with a drink?”
She turned her phone so that the ghost could see it. Luke and Daniel looked at him anxiously, waiting for his reply.
“Mind ye, it was dark, and death, I fear, like age, does not improve one’s vision.”
“Aye, sir,” Daniel said, “but—”
“I would say aye, indeed. That was the man,” Keith said, his tone strong with conviction.
Eight
Carly was extremely glad they’d decided to visit the church.
Keith MacDonald might truly prove to be an asset to them. She smiled, thinking she liked him—she wondered what he had been like in life.
They left him soon after, promising him they were actively seeking the man he had seen and others, considering the scope of the situation, and they would all be working continually until the matter was brought to an end.
In turn, Keith promised them he and Kaitlin—and others they had yet to meet—would also be watching and doing anything they could.
Right before they left, Keith made one last comment. “I’m in a better position now to slip around and watch what is happening without causing alarm,” he told them dryly.
And Carly told him their plans for the evening to head to Filigree and to find out what they could. “There’s something about that place, indeed!” he had said.
“We do believe someone there is involved, and we’ll be working on that this evening. It’s complicated. We’re afraid children are entangled in this, so we need to be extremely careful with what we’re doing,” Luke had informed him.
“Trust me. I am capable of extreme care,” Keith told them.
As they left the graveyard, Daniel looked at Carly with amusement.
“Could he really be an ancestor, do you think?”
She grinned. “Who knows? My grandparents came to the States right after World War II. But then again, even in the US, I can’t tell you just how many MacDonalds there are!”
“It might be interesting to go on an ancestry site and find out,” Luke told her.
She laughed softly. “Hmm. An idea, but I’m not always sure it’s good to know about everything that might have happened with our ancestors. But...maybe!”
Daniel nodded. “True, but... Keith... He seemed like a fine fellow.” He glanced at Carly and Luke. “I realize we’re in the middle of something quite horrendous, but I’m grateful to you both. I knew I always felt things deeply, but until I worked with the two of you, whatever this sense is that we have, it wasn’t developed in me. I supposed I might have been too afraid others might think me unwell.”
“I wish I could say we’d had something to do with it,” Carly told him. “But with our coworkers in the States, well there are many stories, people developing the sense at different times in their lives for different reasons.”
“As far as the unwell part, we understand fully,” Luke assured him. “I think we all go through that fear, and it’s why the Krewe of Hunters is so important to us. We’re able to share what we learn from the dead without fear of being locked up. But it’s also extremely important you always remember this—we are part of the living, breathing world. Our dead friends can be extreme assets, but the evidence that we learn through law enforcement procedures remains paramount. Our investigation will be carried out to the best of our abilities resulting in the discovery of the culprits involved.”
“Right,” Daniel said. He grinned at them. “So, you don’t think we need to stop, steal the sign and rub Greyfriars Bobby’s nose?” he asked.
“I don’t really feel like the populace hitting us—or winding up under arrest myself—would help our investigation!” Carly told him.
Daniel laughed and then grew serious.
“How do we find these children?” he asked.
Luke glanced at Carly and told Daniel, “If anyone can chat with Marjory, create a rapport and find out what the woman knows herself, it’s Carly.”
“Well, thank you,” Carly murmured.
“If these people took her children, would they tell her where they were being kept?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t know,” Carly told him. “But they might have slipped and said something to give her an idea. And they might not even care if she knows, if they have her convinced that if she ever gives anything away, her children’s lives will be the price she pays.”
“And I think,” Luke added, “the woman is probably in agony being so worried about her children. I don’t think she’d ever kill anyone herself.”
“Except maybe she is supplying the super-charged whiskey,” Daniel noted.
“Again, maybe because she has no other choice?” Carly suggested.
They’d reached the turnoff to the house again. Luke keyed in their entry when they reached the gate and then again at the door.
“Campbell has gone on—he received a report from our techs. They’ve found five islands they’re now doing their best to research, and we’re sending fishing boats out around the waters to try to see if they can find anything that would allow us to get warrants,” MacDuff told them. He shrugged. “Then again, maybe they’re not out on an island. Maybe there’s a house, a room...something right here beneath our noses that we’re not seeing.”
Jordan looked up from his computer and shook his head. “Auld Reekie!” he said.
Luke glanced at him and arched a brow.
Carly laughed. “That’s what they called Edinburgh once upon a time. The city started with Old Town, of course. And there was a time where all the walls built throughout history closed it in. The population in such a small area was fierce with rich people getting their way. The rich lived on the second floors of buildings so that they didn’t need to climb too many stairs, but they were above the filth of the streets, and poor people were relegated to the basements or attics, all together! Because of the walls and the fires for heat, there would appear to be a massive—stinky—gray cloud of stagnant air all the time. So...”
“Auld Reekie, got it,” Luke assured her. He looked around at the others. “Well, so it appears as if we’re about ready for a great rollicking night out on the town, all set in what one might describe as business casual. Should we make a solid plan and start out?”
“Solid plan,” MacDuff said. “Carly befriends Marjory Alden at the bar. Senior man here, so I’ll take a seat at a table. Let’s see, Jordan—”
“Happy to sit with you, sir.”
“Someone watches the entry and exit, I guess. And that will be me. Luke?”
“The bar always winds up being about two or three people deep with friends—or just those who don’t really want a table—hanging around the stools. I’ll be in the few-feet deep on the other side of the bar,” Luke said.
“Won’t you be recognized as having been together the other night?” Jordan asked.
“We can greet one another, we can be friends,” Luke said. “But we need a close eye on what is going on there.” He hesitated.
“If I’m trying to reach a point with Marjory where she might tell me things, I could also be in a position where she may try to ply me with enhanced whiskey. And if she does produce a bottle that’s not obviously right there in the wall or on the bar shelves—” Carly began.
“I’ll be in a position to interrupt and give Carly the opportunity to rid herself of that particular drink,” Luke said.
“We’re also on the lookout for our fellow in the sketch,” MacDuff said. “But we don’t know if he was in Filigree, or if he was alerted to watch out for Lila leaving the bar.”
Daniel glanced at Luke and Carly. “Since we found the broken glass that was able to tell us about someone distilling super-charged whiskey, I believe he was indeed in Filigree, perhaps right at the bar, maybe blended in with a group that was pressed tightly—three deep as happens in such places. There’s a good chance he’ll be in there.”
“And if he starts something up with Carly,” MacDuff began, “we—”
“We let him follow me. If we see him, we will let him follow me,” Carly said. “But remember, we need to discover what is going on with Marjory’s children. It is becoming more and more obvious that several people are involved in this in one way or another.”
“Earbuds, everyone on earbuds,” MacDuff said.
“Works for me!” Carly told him.
“And no drunken shouting!” MacDuff told Jordan.
Jordan laughed. “Ah, sir, if only!” he said lightly. “So, we’re on! I’ll get the equipment,” he said, referring to the earbuds and mics, their way of all knowing what was going on every minute on their determined course of action.
They tested the equipment and started out, staggering the way they walked so that they didn’t appear to be a group.
They reached Filigree.
Carly saw William MacRay and Marjory Alden were the two bartenders just as they’d been before.
William MacRay greeted her. “Ah, lovely new American friend. Welcome. I’m delighted that you’re enjoying our wee pub here so much!”
“It’s a great place. And tonight I think I’ll just have a seat at the bar.”
He came close to her and pretended to flirt. “Tennent’s Zero?” he asked her. “But I’ll get it in a glass.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Luke was around the other side of the bar, standing back, ostensibly in a conversation with two businessmen who were standing just behind the stools.
She knew Luke would be watching to make sure nothing other than the beer wound up in her glass.
“And then I’ll leave you alone,” MacRay said, leaning close and smiling as if they shared an intimate secret.
Carly sipped the beer and remembered it was nonalcoholic and thought she should drink more so Marjory might check to see if she needed anything else.
She saw the woman was standing by the cash register and leaning against the cabinets there, and for a moment, her face bore a look of such hopelessness that Carly felt her heart tear. The woman had to be stopped, but she was certain they were right—her children were at stake.
“Marjory, eh, lass! What’s happening here?” the older woman at her side asked as she lifted her glass.
“Coming, coming, Mrs. Dougherty!” Marjory said, shaking off whatever worry had become so intense that, for just a moment, she hadn’t managed to hide her agony. She hurried over to help the old woman. As she did so, she glanced at Carly.
