Too Soon a Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 2 (9 page)

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘No, I’m not. Archibald and Grace both have blue eyes while Adam’s are brown. I’ve never studied genetics but I’m pretty certain that brown eyes are dominant. If one of his parents had passed on the brown-eye gene to him, they would have had brown eyes too.’

‘Hell.’ Kate scrabbled through her piles of paper, eventually pulling out an A3 sheet which Zoe recognised as one of the draft family trees on which she recorded her findings. A number of the small boxes had been filled in with names and dates, some in pencil, others in ink, all in Kate’s neat handwriting. ‘According to this, he was their only son, born in July 1845. I found the record of his birth, which is why he’s inked in.’

‘I’m not saying it’s impossible, only unlikely.’ Zoe started to wish she’d kept her mouth shut. ‘Or maybe their details in the Register were written down wrongly. Take no notice of me.’

Kate pulled a face. ‘I can’t do that. My clients pay me good money to discover the truth about their ancestry.’

‘I’ve made your job a lot more difficult, haven’t I?’

‘I’ll just have to do a bit more digging to dispel the doubt you’ve raised. I’ve found a record of Archibald and Grace’s marriage, proving they were together years before Adam came along. If he’d been born before they married, that would have increased the chance of him being the product of another liaison.’

‘In which case, would your research reach a dead end?’

‘Not necessarily. It might be possible to guess who the father was, based on other information.’

‘Like what?’

‘A census showing Grace had been in service at a big house nine months before her son was born, for example. Some lairds back then considered servants fair game.’

‘But that would only be speculation, surely? Impossible to prove without DNA testing.’

‘You’re right. A couple of years ago I discovered an illegitimate child with a middle name which was the family name of the people his mother had worked for until she suddenly relocated several counties away just before giving birth. Not proof either but definitely significant.’

Without warning, goosebumps rose on Zoe’s arms and she hugged herself.

‘You’ve gone very pale. Are you okay?’ Kate leaned forward, looking concerned. ‘Is it the baby?’

Once again, Zoe recalled the December morning when Andrew had first approached her outside Westerlea Health Centre and asked what her middle initial stood for. Was this Kate’s way of saying she knew about him? ‘I’m feeling chilly. The air-conditioning’s on a bit high, don’t you think?’

‘That’s surely not possible at the moment. Do you want me to get a coffee to warm you up?’

Kate started to rise, her genuine concern quashing Zoe’s paranoia and tempting her to confide in her friend about Andrew. She reminded herself she must respect his insistence that they tell no one at present and said, ‘Thanks, but we’ll be in Edinburgh before you get back with it. How much of your findings will you share with the client when you see him?’

‘Not as much as I’d planned to, on account of your eye-colour bombshell.’

‘Sorry if I’ve made things difficult for you.’

‘Better to know now, than have someone else point it out after I think I’ve finished. Remember me telling Erskine I’m a kind of detective too? I’ll have to consult you on all my cases in future.’

Still feeling guilty for giving her friend more work, Zoe sought to change the subject. ‘Has Robbie told you I’ve agreed to buy his field?’

‘No, but we’ll probably go weeks without hearing from him again. So your solicitor thought it was a good deal?’

‘Her exact words were, “Say yes before he changes his mind”.’

‘What will you do with it?’

‘I have no idea. Maybe extend the garden a bit, plant some trees, that kind of thing. Then I’ll find someone to rent the rest of it.’

‘When the baby’s older you could build a tennis court, or maybe keep a pony. My two girls are always on about learning to ride.’ Kate frowned. ‘You’re lucky you got to see your solicitor so quickly. Mine’s on holiday till next week.’

‘Isn’t there someone else there who can help?’

‘My solicitor’s like my hairdresser. He knows me and I trust him to give me the best advice. I’m not going to be rushed into things by my idiot of an ex-husband.’

They spent the remainder of their journey looking out of the window, Kate pointing out various landmarks, which included a castle, a nuclear power station and a cement works. When they arrived in Edinburgh, Zoe followed Kate up the series of short escalators which deposited them next to the Balmoral Hotel on Princes Street, where a porter was helping an elderly woman into a taxi. Although there were still several weeks to go before Edinburgh’s festivals began, pedestrians crowded the pavement in a parade of brightly-coloured tee-shirts, frocks and shorts.

‘Oh look,’ Zoe said, grabbing Kate’s arm then pointing a short distance down Princes Street. ‘A tram.’

‘I haven’t travelled on one yet, though I’ve seen them a few times. Do you want to take a ride later? We could get one out to Haymarket and pick up our train from there.’

‘That would be fun if we have enough time.’

They crossed Princes Street and Kate led Zoe past a statue of a horse and rider then pointed at the grand building of mustard-coloured stone which stood behind it. ‘This is Register House, where the national archives are kept. If only you had Scottish ancestors, I could show you how to research them.’

Once again Zoe held her breath, certain Kate must be trying to provoke her into revealing she did indeed have Scottish ancestors. However, Kate strode on, obviously unaware of her throwaway remark’s effect. ‘Is it too early for an ice cream?’ she asked as they entered the ugly shopping centre and passed a Thorntons shop.

‘Yes.’

Their first port of call in the John Lewis department store was the ladies’ loos, then they made their way up to the fourth floor restaurant, where Kate positioned herself not far from the entrance. They agreed Zoe would return at twelve-fifteen and look to see if Kate had placed her handbag on the table, code that she wanted her meeting to be interrupted.

Wondering how was it possible to spend so much money in less than an hour, Zoe returned to the restaurant at ten past twelve carrying several bags of maternity clothes and underwear. She dropped into a seat which had a clear view of Kate and her client’s back. Ten minutes later, Kate casually lifted her handbag and placed it on the table beside her coffee cup. She put on an unconvincing look of surprise as Zoe approached.

‘Hello. Is it that time already?’

‘Sorry if I’m interrupting.’

‘No you’re not. We’d just finished, hadn’t we, Simon?’

The man sitting opposite Kate could only be in his mid-twenties, far younger than Zoe had expected from the amount of grey flecks in his otherwise dark brown, curly hair. A thick neck, broad shoulders and forearms with muscles straining at the short sleeves of his shirt suggested he did more than watch rugby from the comfort of his sofa. This was corroborated by a nose which showed signs of having been broken at least once.

‘Simon, this is Zoe Moreland, the friend I told you about. We’re going shopping for nursery furniture now you and I have finished.’

Kate’s client smiled at Zoe with his mouth but his eyes failed to convey a scintilla of warmth. He closed the notebook sitting on the table in front of him and tucked his pen down its spine. ‘Thank you for your time, Kate. A fortnight, definitely, until you can give me a full report?’

‘I hope so.’

Simon withdrew legs which were as substantial as the rest of him from under the table. He thrust his notebook into the saltire-adorned rucksack which hung on his chair and walked away.

Zoe sat down in his still-warm seat. ‘He’s not at all how I expected. You described him as intense, and for some reason that conjured up someone older and smaller. He looks like a rugby player.’

‘That’s because he is. He works for RBS, something in IT, but I get the impression rugby provides the passion in his life.’

‘How did your meeting go? It lasted longer than you expected.’

‘I’ve had to listen to yet another lecture about how brilliant his dad is and how alike they are.’

‘Is he having his family tree traced for his father? I know a lot of your clients give them as gifts.’

‘He hasn’t said so. I’m not bothered, to be honest. As long as someone’s not a pest and pays me for what I do, that’s good enough for me.’ Kate looked at her watch. ‘We may as well have some lunch before we go in search of your nursery furniture.’

‘Are you sure you’ve got time? Don’t you have some research to do?’

‘I’ve decided to come back up on Friday. The rest of the day is going to be all about spending your money. Though I see you’ve started without me.’

NINE

Zoe looked at herself standing sideways to the mirror and groaned. The maternity capri pants she’d bought the previous day were so comfortable, she felt tempted to go online and order several more pairs, but they made her look enormous. The middle of August couldn’t come soon enough.

She returned to the kitchen and found Mac lying on the floor, pawing at his face. Etta had mentioned when Zoe picked him up from Tolbyres Farm yesterday that he seemed to be squinting, and now a greenish discharge was coming from his right eye. Despite her emergency first aid, she must have missed a piece of whatever had scratched him on Sunday morning and it had caused an infection. She decided to take him to the vet’s afternoon surgery and wondered if Patrick would be there.

Opening up her laptop as she ate a piece of toast, she read on the BBC News website that Police Scotland had not yet identified the dead boy. In the hope of jogging someone’s memory, further details about him had been released, including his arrival the day before he died at the Duns chemist with towels wrapped around his damaged hands, and his departure a few minutes later with both of them bandaged. An appeal was made for anyone who remembered seeing him or his companion to come forward, especially with information about the vehicle they had been traveling in.

The fact that so little intelligence had been received thus far didn’t surprise Zoe. If a pair of strangers had arrived in Duns early in the morning, the town would have been bustling with tradesmen stocking up on rolls, pies and bottles of juice for the day ahead, and older citizens collecting their newspapers. However, at four-thirty on a Thursday afternoon, especially during the school holidays, Duns would often be deserted. If deliberate, the timing suggested a familiarity with the neighbourhood rather than someone who was simply passing through.

She put away her laptop and closed the curtains throughout the cottage in what was probably a vain attempt to keep it cool. The humidity, already uncomfortably high at seven o’clock when she walked Mac, was even worse now as she went out to the car, and her arms tickled as thunder-bugs landed on them. The weather forecast had warned of heavy storms in the west, but the southeast corner of Scotland was destined to stay dry and muggy all day. As if confirming this prediction, several of the fields she passed on her way into Westerlea were being irrigated, the plumes of water creating small rainbows.

Margaret greeted her with the broad smile she always wore when she knew something Zoe didn’t. ‘That nice Geordie policeman has been on the phone for you. I said you wouldn’t be available until after surgery.’

‘Do I have to call him back?’

‘No. He said he’d pop in when you’ve finished seeing patients. I got his number in case it’s not convenient.’ Margaret offered Zoe a piece of paper which she automatically reached for, although Trent’s number was already programmed into her mobile.

‘Thanks. Have I got a busy morning ahead of me?’

‘A full house. Your first patient’s here already.’

‘I’d better get a move on then.’ Zoe set off towards her consulting room, slightly puzzled as to why Margaret was following. She knew the reason as soon as she walked through the door: an enormous bouquet of flowers lay on her desk.

Margaret came up behind her. ‘Happy anniversary, Doctor Zoe.’

‘Thank you, but I—’

‘It’s exactly a year since you joined us and I wanted to mark it in some way. Doctor Paul didn’t think you’d remember.’

Zoe turned to hug the older woman then went to her desk and lifted the flowers, taking a deep breath of the lilies’ scent. ‘They’re gorgeous, thank you. And Paul was right, I hadn’t remembered.’

‘You’ve got a lot on your mind. My Hector says he doubts anyone in the Borders has had such a year as you.’

‘That’s one way of putting it.’ Zoe looked around her consulting room. She would need the sink to wash her hands. ‘Could you stand them in some water in the kitchen for me?’

Margaret bustled out with the flowers, while Zoe sat down and switched on her computer. She supposed Margaret was right and it really had been a year since she moved to Scotland, but when she considered this, it felt like both five minutes and forever. As usual, Hector had hit the nail on the head. She swallowed some water then called up the details of her first patient and went in search of him in the waiting room.

Mr Griffiths was one of her regulars, a seventy-year-old whose asthma flared up with a frequency Zoe attributed to the habit which had also stained the fingers of his right hand yellow. He sat down, wheezing. ‘Pollen count’s that high, I cannae get my breath, Doctor.’

‘Let’s see how it compares with last time, shall we?’ Zoe handed him a peak flow meter which he blew into, coughing noisily afterwards. The lack of improvement by his third puff confirmed her patient’s lungs were working even more inefficiently than usual. She fixed him with a stern look. ‘Have you managed to reduce the number of cigarettes you get through?’

‘I told you before, I only take the odd one to be sociable. My neighbour’s garden’s full of flowers, that’s what’s causing it.’ A fit of coughing shook his entire body.

Zoe waited for the coughs to subside then said, ‘I’m going to prescribe you a short course of steroids, which should help. Come back in a week, even if you’re feeling better.’