Here Duncan needed to utilize all his tact.
He continued, "It looks doubtful that Stuart's death was an accident. I'm concerned for the safety of Caroline Menzies."
A thick silence hung in the air between the two men. Duncan waited for Wallace to reply.
"Do you have any new evidence you would like to submit to Police Scotland?" the chief inspector asked, sounding all business.
"Chief inspector, our experts have determined that the object which everyone assumed caused Stuart Menzies' death could not have fallen from the battlement. It is not a match the remaining merlons at Castle Taye."
He paused again to let this new information sink in. He could hear Wallace catch his breath on the other end, but otherwise the chief inspector remained mute.
"We are not sure of all the implications, and we still have more data to analyze. If Stuart's death was not an accident, we believe Caroline Menzies could be at risk."
Duncan knew he could be jumping the gun with this phone call. Yet, he could not ignore the possible threat to Caroline.
He went on, "We will share all of our findings with Police Scotland as soon as our investigation concludes. I was hoping that for now, you could keep an eye on Mrs. Menzies and perhaps even send a presence down to Castle Taye."
"I can't station someone there full time, but I can have one of our officers stop by and warn her to be careful. We can probably drop in on her each day as well," Wallace replied. Then, he added, "How long until you wrap this case up, Mr. Dewar?"
"I'm hoping we'll be finished in two or three weeks. I'm working from my Edinburgh office now. Let me give you the numbers where I can be reached."
Duncan gave the chief inspector every possible phone number where he might be located, including his parents' house and his flat in London. The two men signed off cordially and Duncan hoped their relationship would stay that way. Telling law enforcement that their previous conclusions were wrong was always dicey business. As soon as he hung up with Wallace, Duncan rang up Caroline.
"Hallo, Darling, how are you this morning?" Duncan asked when Caroline answered the phone.
"I'm wonderful! But it's afternoon now," she replied, sounding glad to hear from him. "It's a lovely day here, cold, sunny and crisp! Did you sleep in this morning? I know it was a late night for you."
Duncan went all warm inside at the sound of her voice. Part of him expected her to tire of him quickly or realize she truly was not interested in an insurance man. He confirmed she was alone.
"I want you to listen carefully, Sweetheart. I'm analyzing some of the evidence from Police Scotland, and things just aren't adding up. I think you need to reconsider coming to Edinburgh or even going down to London until this is settled. I'm worried for you, Darling, and I don't want anything to happen to you," he said, making every effort to speak slowly and calmly but unable to keep an urgent tone from creeping into his voice.
"Are you saying that Stuart's death was not an accident?" Caroline's voice rose sharply.
"Shh, please, Caroline, I don't want anyone to overhear you." He had dreaded this moment. "It is a possibility that it was not an accident. If that turns out to be the case, you may be in danger. Do you understand?" Duncan waited for a reply, but none came, so he continued, "If Peter or Julia did this, they would want you out of the way as well. You are the primary beneficiary, but they are secondary beneficiaries. That means if anything happens to you, they receive the insurance payout. It's an enormous sum, Caroline."
"They are also Stuart's heirs," she said, her voice cold and matter of fact, but with a hint of sadness.
Duncan feared she was in shock.
"You need to get out of there, Caroline. I've asked Inspector Wallace to send an officer to check on you, but that might not be enough. Please, Caroline, come to Edinburgh."
He could hear Caroline sigh.
"Is there any reason for your urgency, Duncan? This is my home and I have businesses to run here. Do you think I'm in imminent danger?"
"Do you mean apart from the fact that Peter already tried to run me over? Yes, I think you could be in danger right now!" he snapped.
He didn't understand what kept her tied to Castle Taye. He regretted his harsh tone immediately.
After a short pause, Caroline said, "Darling, I know you are worried about me. But as you said, the police will be by to check on me. I won't take any unnecessary risks and I have my dogs. They're well trained and they always warn me when anyone's about. Maybe I'll ask Skye Merriwether to come stay with me. Did you know she's training to be a special constable just like her father?"
He encouraged her to ask Skye to stay at Castle Taye. If she wouldn't leave, at least she would have someone else with her. The fact that Skye was receiving law enforcement training eased his worries slightly. He extracted a promise from Caroline that she would ask the girl to stay with her. When they said their good-byes, Duncan had to stop himself from signing off with "I love you." He didn't want to scare her.
Duncan found a small slice of steak and kidney pie in the refrigerator. He heated the leftover in the oven and ate his lunch with a shot of whiskey. His nerves were shot, worrying about Caroline. He washed up the dishes and returned to his work.
He plugged his laser measurements into a program on his computer and waited for the results. This program produced a likely location for the landing of an object, in this case a body, from a fall. Duncan wanted to make sure the stone on top of Stuart had not come from the roof. The outcome was as he expected. He drew the projected locations on a photo of the scene from his printer. No match. The body and merlon should have been closer to the building. Duncan doubted Stuart was killed by that hunk of rock at all.
Next, he examined the photos of Stuart's body. There was no mud on the bottom of his boots. Obviously, he had not been working in the garden shop area when he died. In those wet conditions, mud would be prevalent.
Duncan stared at the enlarged pictures of Stuart's hands and fingers. Unfortunately, there were no photos of his palms to check for self defense wounds. However, his fingertips were tinted red. Duncan had a good idea what that meant, but the idea confused him. This did not fit with the case scenario Duncan built. He thought of his literary hero's mantra, Eliminate the impossible and you are left with the truth. All those years of reading Sherlock Holmes stories had their benefits.
Duncan stared at his computer. His mum's voice startled him.
"Have you been at it all day, Duncan?" Margaret Dewar asked, pointing to the kitchen clock which read 5:45 pm.
"Well, I slept in a bit, but other than that, aye."
Duncan had a slight headache from his recent spill and from concentrating all afternoon. He could feel his vision adjust as he glanced away from his computer and down the hall towards his parents' bedroom. He needed a break.
"Your dad thought going to the pub for dinner might be a good idea. What do you think?"
Duncan's mother smiled with admiration at her son. She was so proud of his accomplishments. She couldn't figure out why he had not settled down with a nice girl and had children by now. He was successful, highly intelligent, and handsome. His mum thought him better looking than Angus, who always seemed to have a girlfriend or two. She sometimes worried Duncan would remain single his whole life. She debated whether she should mention her friend's daughter who worked at the pub. Margaret Dewar decided to keep quiet on that score.
"The pub sounds fine," Duncan replied, trying to conceal his disappointment.
He had been eating in a pub for quite some time and wanted his mum's home cooked meals. Duncan glanced at his mother. Did she look tired? He decided going out to eat would be easier on her.
Soon Duncan's father appeared, followed by Angus. They chatted a while before walking to the local establishment for dinner. Harold was closing up one of the garages and would join them later.
It felt good to walk the half mile to The Golden Fleece. The family frequented this pub, so everyone felt at home. As they arrived,
a wind kicked up, blowing the enterprise's sign back and forth. Heavily carved from wood, a golden, fluffy sheep with a grinning face swung from old chains. The movement created a squeak that almost sounded like a sheep bleating. A gust blew some of the last of Edinburgh's fall leaves tumbling past them as if those dry, paper-thin objects were racing for a finish line.
Inside, a cozy, dark blue palette created a relaxing atmosphere. Instead of dark wood, all the furniture, fixtures and trims were stained a honey tone. A roaring fire added all the ambience needed. The Dewar men headed for the bar while Margaret chose a table. They each ordered a pint, but Mr. Dewar brought a glass of cider for his wife.
"Thank you, James," she said as she passed around the menus.
Soon the conversation turned to Duncan's father, the classes he taught, and if he ever thought about retiring.
"I have a brilliant group of students this year. It's been a great deal of fun for me. I just cannot imagine retiring any time soon," Mr. Dewar stated, his tone oozing his obvious love of teaching.
Duncan glanced at his mother to discern her reaction. He thought he caught a little disappointment in her when his father mentioned he couldn't imagine retirement. He hoped they discussed these issues and made their decisions together, but he was not sure.
"Well, I'm not going to continue catering meals forever," Margaret finally said. "I can imagine retiring right now," she added.
Over the years, he rarely saw his parents argue. He wondered if his mum just went along with his dad or if they hashed their differences out in private. He looked over to Angus to see if he could detect his opinion on Dad's retirement. Angus's eyes glowed and he had a grin on his face that Duncan recognized. He followed his brother's gaze towards the approaching waitress -- a beautiful redhead who seemed happy to see them.
"Why hello, Margaret, Mr. Dewar," the waitress exclaimed, looking from his mother to his father.
Duncan saw a look of frustration cross his mother's face as Angus rose to greet their waitress. Angus reached for her hand and introduced himself and she gave her name. Before his brother could continue with any small talk, Margaret Dewar cut off her second son.
"And this is Duncan, our son from London."
Oh, no, his mum was at it again. Sarah seemed glad to meet Margaret's sons. Duncan admired his mother's taste, but had no interest in the gorgeous redhead. Angus was another story. Sarah took their orders after a brief conversation with the family and left for the kitchen. Once she was out of earshot, Margaret shot Angus a look that could kill.
"What did I do?" Angus asked with what Duncan thought was mock surprise.
Margaret's glare grew more intense, but she said nothing.
He went on, at his own peril, "You know Duncan's got a lass stashed in Taye, don't you?"
Duncan's mother's eyebrows shot up in shock.
Angus added, "An American girl."
James Dewar choked on his ale. Duncan was afraid his dad would spew his drink all over the table. His brother had successfully moved the focus from himself and onto Duncan. He was a master at that. He looked from his mother to his father. Flabbergast was reflected on both their faces.
Finally, Mr. Dewar said, "Well, that's a bit ironic, isn't it? Considering your feelings for the Americans."
Angus roared with laughter as Margaret shot him her best disapproving look. His brother stifled his guffaw and tried to control himself. Sarah returned to their table, smiling, a basket of dinner rolls in her hand. She really was a gorgeous girl. Angus followed her with his eyes as she strode back to the kitchen. Now, all eyes were on Duncan. He did not want to discuss Caroline with his family. It was a complicated situation.
No one spoke until Margaret finally said, "Well, who is she and when were you going to tell us about her?"
Before he could respond, Harold sauntered to the table, pint in his hand. He took the empty chair between Angus and their father. He had a silly grin on his face, so Duncan assumed he had heard some of their conversation. How long had Harold been at the bar ordering his pint? he wondered. The news of his lass would spread through the family like wildfire. Unlike the other siblings, Harold had red hair and freckles. He looked as if he could have been the brother of Sarah, their waitress. As his family waited for an explanation, Duncan concentrated on devouring a dinner roll.
Chapter 5 - Edinburgh versus London
Duncan rode a bus into the office. He got up early to avoid his family. He was tired as Angus had kept him up late, laughing at his expense. The conversation regarding the lass he had "stashed" in Taye had not gone well. His parents were concerned about the obvious conflict of interest created by dating Caroline. They advised him to pull back from her, at least until his work was finished. His mother made it clear that she preferred a good, Scottish girl for him, one like Sarah. Duncan was fairly certain Angus somehow managed to ask Sarah out during the meal. He had followed her to the bar and flirted with her there, while Duncan received a grilling from his parents. Harold enjoyed the show, relieved he was not the one on the hot seat.
Duncan loved and respected his parents. He often took their advice and he knew they had a point about Caroline. He just was not capable of going against his heart in this matter. Losing her was his greatest fear and he would not risk that by drawing away from her now. He'd fallen hard and fast for the beautiful widow.
Lawful and General's Edinburgh office appeared sleek and modern, located in a newer part of the city. Even though Duncan operated out of their London office, the staff here knew him by name. A private office awaited his use, and a secretary stopped by to ask if he needed anything.
Coming into the office was a definite ego booster for Duncan. Here, he felt like the industry expert and executive he was. Somehow, in the village and countryside around Taye, he behaved more like a novice. Had he allowed the locals to treat him as such, to box him into that position? Or was his attraction to Caroline what got in the way? He determined to put that behavior behind him. From now on, he would conduct himself like the professional he was. As Duncan began sifting through the contents of his briefcase, another secretary entered his office.
"Mr. Dewar, would you like some coffee, juice, or tea to start the day?" a girl in her early twenties asked.
"A coffee sounds, great. Milk, please," he responded. The girl nodded and turned to leave when Duncan asked, "Do you know who could make some travel arrangements for me?"
"Yes, I can do that for you, Mr. Dewar. My name is Helen. When and where do you need to go?"
"I want to take the train to London, the day after tomorrow, an early train, if possible."
Duncan realized the case required his presence in London. He needed to meet with several experts there before concluding the claim.
Helen nodded and said, "Let me get your coffee and then I'll make your reservations."
Duncan returned to his briefcase and retrieved the mound of paperwork for the Stuart Menzies case. He fired up his computer and glanced at his emails. He needed a medical forensic expert to look at Gerald's photo work. He was preparing to call Angela, his assistant in the London office, when Helen returned.
She carried a silver tray holding a china cup and saucer, small silver coffee pot, serviette, spoon, pitcher, and a bowl containing a variety of sweeteners. She placed the tray to the side of his desktop and poured steaming coffee from the pot into the cup. The smell told Duncan it was a quality brew.
As he stirred milk into his coffee, Helen said, "The only available train tickets to London are on the overnight, I'm afraid. We can get you on the morning train if you are willing to wait another day, or you can fly down either day."
Duncan enjoyed the time to think that a train trip allowed. Even though a flight would be much quicker, he did not fancy the experience.
"I'll take the overnight, day after tomorrow. It's not too much trouble is it?" he asked.
"Not at all, Sir. Will you need transportation to the station?"
"No, Helen. I'll have my brother drop me th
ere," he replied.
He smiled at the thought of Angus taking him to the train station late at night. Helen seemed to get the joke and grinned at Duncan. Then, she disappeared down the hall.
He swiveled his chair around to take in the view from his office. He was not surprised to see it was raining outside, although little sound penetrated the thick plate glass windows to alert him of the change in the weather. He enjoyed working in the Edinburgh office. He had to admit, the time he spent close to home, his parents and brothers just felt right. He never took Scotland for granted, not after the years he was forced to spend in America, but his job took him to London and there he had stayed. Maybe this would prove a good time to move home. He observed the weather a while longer, then called Angela
"Lawful and General, Duncan Dewar's office, how may I help you?" she answered.
"Hallo, Angela. It's Duncan. How are you?" he asked.
There was no reason to announce himself. Angela recognized his voice. She had been waiting for his call.
"I'm fine, Mr. Dewar. What can I do for you?" she asked.
"I'm coming down to London, the day after tomorrow. Well, actually, I'm taking the overnight, so I'll be there in three days," he calculated. "I arrive on the sixth, but I won't be in the office until that afternoon. I'll need to check on my flat, shower, that sort of thing. There are some people I'll need you to contact in the meantime. I need that fellow who does our forensic medical work to look at some of Gerald's photos. I'll send the photos to you along with my questions. Talk to him and tell him I need the answers on the sixth. Got that?"
Angela took a deep breath and answered, "Yes."
"Then, I have something to run through a lab. We may need access to an optical and scanning electron microscope. Find out who has one and arrange a time when we can use it. We might have to rely on one of the universities, but I'm sure you can manage that."
He paused to catch his breath. He didn't consider the amount of work he loaded on his helper.
"I need to talk to a professor at the University of Copenhagen. I can't remember his name, but he spoke at that conference I went to last year at Oxford. He's an expert in psychological game theory. I want to run a few things by him, so see if you can arrange a time for me to speak with him sometime after I arrive. Can you manage all this?" he asked rhetorically.
Mystery: The Merlon Murders II: A Duncan Dewar Mystery of Murder and Romantic Suspense (Duncan Dewar Mysteries Book 2) Page 4