Page 105 of A Scottish Country Escape

Elsa sighed. ‘No doubt it will end up in some shadowy room belonging to a mega rich businessman.’

‘Let’s hope not. There are a lot of people who would love to see it in the flesh.’

I slapped my hands on my legs in a decisive gesture. ‘Are you ready to do this?’ I asked, reaching into the back seat for my bag.

Elsa unclipped her seatbelt. ‘Well, we won’t get anywhere if we keep sitting here.’

The air was tinged with the whispers of bonfires and damp leaves as I locked up my car and we both walked up to the main entrance.

I pulled up the address Angus had texted me to double-check we were about to buzz the correct flat number. ‘Flat six,’ I murmured to Elsa. She located it and pressed the button.

We both swapped nervous glances as the sound of the buzzer zinged. There was no reply for several seconds.

Then a ‘Hello?’ crackled towards us. It was a cultivated female voice.

I cleared my throat. ‘Good afternoon. I wondered if we might speak with Mr Cameron Lomax, please?’

There was silence for a moment. ‘Who am I talking to?’

‘I’m Elle Cassidy and with me is Elsa Bennett. We’re from Fir Haven.’

‘Fir Haven?’ repeated the disembodied voice, faltering. The woman took on a more confrontational edge. ‘Why are you so interested in speaking to my husband?’

Elsa’s eyebrows took on a life of their own as she looked back at me. I detected the hint of a Swedish accent in the disembodied voice.

‘It’s about something that happened in the early 1960s,’ I said. ‘A tragic accident involving a Mr Ross Ronald?’

‘Who is it, darling? Who are you speaking to?’

A male voice could be heard now, floating behind her.

‘He’s not here,’ barked Mrs Lomax. ‘And we don’t know anything about any accident.’

I tried to appeal to her again. ‘Mrs Lomax, we won’t take up much of your husband’s time.’

‘Are you deaf?’ she snapped through the intercom. ‘He’s not here at the moment and even if he were, we don’t know anything.’

She stopped talking for a few seconds to recover herself, but this time Elsa jumped in. ‘Mrs Lomax, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. There is a young man whom I work for. His name is Dexter Grayling.’

No response.

Elsa straightened her posture and carried on. ‘I think of him more like a son.’ I could hear the emotion in her voice. ‘He really does need your husband’s help.’

Mrs Lomax’s frustration threw itself into overdrive. ‘Now, look! I’m getting tired of this. For the umpteenth time, we don’t know anything and if you don’t leave right now, I’m going to call the police.’

I sighed and looked to Elsa for inspiration. Her expression was as grim as mine. ‘Thank you for your time,’ she said, rolling her eyes. We listened as a loud click signalled that Mrs Lomax was gone.

I slumped against the brickwork of the building. ‘Now what?’

Elsa bit the inside of her cheek. ‘We need to move on to Plan B.’

‘Which is?’

‘I don’t know. I hoped you might have one.’

Frustration gnawed at me. Cameron Lomax was there. We heard a man’s voice. So why had she lied and said he wasn’t? She must be trying to protect him. But from what? And why?

We both accepted defeat with no good grace at all, glowering up at the apartment block while we made our way back down the path and to my car.