“I’m not certain I will survive long enough to make it to the important part.” Caillen threw back her brandy like a seasoned rogue.
“Continue,” he encouraged.
“I sneaked into his office.”
He closed his eyes, counting up her crimes.
“And I found the name of the man who murdered papa.” Her voice held the deep-seated emotion of a child denied her parents.
“What do you mean you found the name?”
“Sir Williamson had a file with Lord Pembrock’s name on it. Inside there was a list of names, mostly Scottish, and next to them were dates. I didn’t understand it thoroughly until I found papa’s name with the date he died, next to it.”
Caillen grabbed his glass and took a healthy gulp before handing it back to him.
“In the file, there was a report that didn’t have an agent’s name on it. I’m not sure who wrote it, but it said a man was seen at the local pub called Glenfriars in Inverness with blood on hisshirt. This agent happened to be there that night, and didn’t like the man’s manner. He bought him a pint or two or three. The bugger told him the blood was from his dog that he had to shoot when it went mad while on the road to Inverness. He said he buried it outside of town.”
Caillen’s expression softened. “Robbi, papa wasn’t shot. He drowned. Sir Williamson confirmed it.”
“No, he didn’t. I don’t know why the surgeon said he drowned but he didn’t. Papa was shot.”
“How do you know that?” Caillen asked.
“Sir Williamson already exhumed the grave. He has been lying to you.” She pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to them. “I apologize for the state it’s in. I had to leave in a hurry.”
“You stole the report from Sir Williamson’s office?”
Robbi pointed at the paper, her anger palpable. “That report belongs tous, Caillen. He had no authority to deny us the truth of our father’s death. He’s been holding onto this for over a decade.” She bit her lip, her eyes moist, and her emotions threatening to boil over.
Simon silently sighed as he straightened the official looking report and held it out for Caillen to view it as well. Their eyes met before they looked down at the paper and read the report.
The body of a male buried under the headstone of Mister DuncanDorian Blair II was exhumed on the evening of the twenty-fourth day of January 1803, eight days after his reported death by drowning on the sixteenth of January 1803. Several landowners along the route of the future Caledonian Canal have met with unexplained deaths in recent months. Mr. Blair is another suchlandowner.
Upon exhumation of the body, it was apparent the deceased had not died an accidental death by falling into the riverwhile in an inebriated state, but rather the victim died of two gunshot woundsto the chest. It was further confirmed, by the miniature obtained by this agent of Mister Duncan Dorian Blair II from his home at UrquhartCastle, the victim was indeed he.
The local surgeon on the case, Mr. Gregor Cryan, listed the cause of death in the local church registry as drowning, signed and dated it along with the vicar on eighteen of January 1803.
The body of Mister Blair was re-interred without the presence of a vicaron the twenty-fifth day of January 1803 before sunrise.
The only witnesses to the exhumation were the reporting agent anda local tradesman who has been crucial to the investigation. Furtherreports will follow.
“Papa was murdered. Sir Williamson has been lying.” Caillen’s voice was soft and lost, and for a moment, he was afraid he’d lost her once more to the lies and deception committed by another man.
“I will demand his immediate resignation. With Ross’s support, we can make it happen and we can get to the bottom of who killed your father.” He promised.
“I told you I already know his name from the report in his file,” Robbi insisted.
Simon held out his hand for her to hand over the report.
“I don’t have it. I couldn’t take two reports, since taking one was already questionable. If I took two, he’d know they were gone. Plus, he would know where to look.”
Suspicion built in his gut. “How would he know where to look?”
Robbi winced and admitted, “I may have hit one of his people over the head with a full bottle of whisky.”
Caillen held her head in her hand. “He’s going to take her and throw away the key.”
“I can escape the tower.”
