which he’d thought was the ideal age to be going for the promotion. Maybe the added pressure was making things worse?
‘It’s not the work, exactly. It’s just that between job and studying I hardly have time to see Ian.’
‘Ian?’
‘I met him back in November.’
‘You kept that quiet.’
‘I know. Didn’t want to jinx it.’
‘Good guy, is he?’
‘The best. Perfect gentleman. A rare breed these days, present company excepted,’ she said with a glance at her boss.
‘That’s great! What does he do?’
‘He’s a freelance writer, and he’s taking a sabbatical to work on his novel.’
He worried about Mhairi more than he should but ever since her fiancé had dumped her, when she missed their rehearsal dinner because of work, she had tried to bury her heartbreak in meaningless flings. It had been tearing a hole in her soul not to mention causing gossip around the station. This new chap sounded promising.
‘We’re going out tonight for a meal, if I manage to get away on time.’
‘Make sure you scoot off straight after the briefing then.’
‘I’ll try, but I’ve got a “To Do” list longer than my arm,’ she said.
‘You’ve still got to make the time for things that are important,’ he said.
‘I love how you don’t practise what you preach, sir,’ she said.
He contented himself with an enigmatic look.
It was true. Since all that business last year, he had become something of a hermit, but that was also because he felt the lure of his long-dormant vocation, tugging him back to active service as a priest once more. He had shared these feelings with no one. Not even his spiritual adviser and dear friend, Father Joe Spinelli. He needed to be sure he was returning to his vocation for the right reasons and not simply hiding from the pain and trauma of recent events.
As they reached the outskirts of Dumfries, where the River Nith wound along like a serpent beneath the bypass, he was jolted from his reverie.
‘Actually, I bumped into Laura on Saturday night in Spoons.’
‘Oh yeah?’ said Farrell. ‘There with Lind, was she?’
‘No, she was out with some woman. A right party animal. Do her good to get out and let her hair down, what with all she’s been through after losing the baby and the stuff with the twins. I took it as a good sign,’ said Mhairi.
Farrell wasn’t so sure.
Once back at the station, he logged in the extra evidence bags and headed down to the MCA room to prepare for the last briefing of the day. The small investigative team had started to filter through.
He’d put DS Stirling in charge of HOLMES in the MCA room, as much to keep him out of harm’s way as anything else. He was just months off retirement and so risk averse he was useless in the field, as Farrell had discovered last year. His experience would be useful in here.
A few minutes before 6 p.m., Mhairi slipped in, causing Farrell to do a double take. She must really like this bloke. She was wearing a red jersey dress that fell to her knees, with navy heels, and a dark wool coat over one arm. He wasn’t the only one to look twice. Mhairi was known for vamping it up when she went out. This signalled a change of gear.
‘You must be Mhairi’s classier sister,’ said DS Byers, attracting glares from everyone. It was no secret that he had the hots for Mhairi, and her continued rejection made him spiteful.
Mhairi ignored him and lifted her chin.
‘Right then,’ said Farrell. ‘Let’s get started.’ He nodded a greeting as DI Moore slipped in at the back.
‘Stirling, can you find out what details you can about a group of artists going by the name of The Collective, in Kirkcudbright. The deceased was involved with them a few years ago. Ascertain where they were based? If they’re still in existence?’
‘Sir,’ Stirling replied.
‘PC Green, can you arrange for the girlfriend, Nancy Quinn, to come in and be interviewed? Apart from the picture of them both on a skiing holiday, there was no sign of her presence in the cottage. Seems a little odd in this day and age,’ said Farrell.
‘DS Byers, have you managed to obtain a list of the shortlisted candidates, and is the prize worth killing over?’
‘Fifty grand, but the prestige attached to this competition is immeasurable. It’s launched the careers of quite a few well-known names into the stratosphere. Turns out another two of the six shortlisted authors live in Kirkcudbright, Hugo Mortimer and Paul Moretti. I’ve got addresses for them both from the organizers.’
‘Good work. McLeod and I will track them down tomorrow. Stirling, any joy with the medical records?’
‘Dr Allison wasn’t in the surgery. The practice manager was a bit reluctant, at first, but I banged on about the public interest, and then the deceased’s mother got on the phone. I have them here.’
‘Anything relevant?’
‘Well, no terminal illness or the like. He did suffer from a major bout of depression about three years ago. There was a fairly half-hearted suicide attempt with some pills, but he appeared to recover well and was on no current medication.’
‘OK then,’ said Farrell. ‘Good work, we’ll wrap it up there for tonight.’
He paused as DI Moore raised her hand and walked forward.
‘If I could say a few words, Frank?’
‘Be my guest,’ he said, standing aside.
‘As some of you will be aware, I’ve been involved in an investigation into a forging racket being run out of this area. We suspect that the forger may be hiding in Kirkcudbright, camouflaged within the many artists there. I know that it will involve an increased workload, but I’d like a couple of volunteers to straddle both investigations in case there is any overlap.’
Both Mhairi and DC Thomson stuck their hands up.
‘Excellent, can you spare a few minutes after the briefing to get you started?’
Mhairi looked tense and glanced at her watch.
‘Actually, on second thoughts, let’s make it my office at eight, tomorrow,’ said DI Moore.
It had been a long day. Farrell felt weariness settle in his bones like sediment as he headed back home to Kelton. The full moon illuminated the frost in the fields and hedges giving
