Page 73 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

We swapped puzzled glances.

‘Sixty-eight was a good age to live to in that era,’ said Mason, taking a step closer towards the grave.

‘But why has he got such a plain stone compared to the others?’ I wondered, studying the other gravestones. ‘And why is he buried over here?’

The setting sun was sparking off the top of the simple sandstone of Gideon Kelly’s final resting place.

Mason crouched down and traced a hand over the brief lettering. ‘I wonder if he ended up being a pauper.’ He indicated the other headstones. ‘Whoever this guy was, the locals at the time obviously didn’t want him laid to rest close to their nearest and dearest.’

A pang of sympathy hit me. ‘His grave looks so sad.’ I rubbed my upper arms. A keener breeze was blowing now.

‘To be fair, we don’t know anything about him or what he did to deserve being buried apart from the other townsfolk – well, not yet, anyway,’ he pointed out.

I pressed my lips together in thought. ‘Well, it couldn’t have been that awful surely, otherwise it would have been common knowledge?’

Mason raised one dark eyebrow at me. ‘I know what you mean. He was employed as a teacher by one of the most prestigious families in the area.’ He afforded me a crooked smile that made my heart zing. ‘Careful. You’re starting to make some sense.’ He shoved his mobile into his back pocket. ‘But where he’s buried, the simple design and the granite the stone is carved from, all indicate that he wasn’t exactly one of Port Starr’s high-fliers.’

He jabbed a finger at the back of Gideon Kelly’s stone. ‘Look, Poppy.’

We crouched down beside one another on the grass. Branches of a nearby bush were growing over the rear of the gravestone, but there appeared to have been a carving lower down the stone, which had been chipped and obliterated.

‘What is that?’ I asked him.

Mason shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’ve no idea.’

My eyes bored into the scored granite, but no matter how hard I stared, I couldn’t make it out. I ran my fingers over the strange carving – or, at least, whatever had been there originally. Whatever it was now resembled a pitted hole rather than a sculpted piece of artwork. ‘I think someone might have done this deliberately,’ I said to Mason beside me. ‘Look at the way the granite has been damaged.’

Mason rose and took a couple of steps back to examine the headstone. ‘Might it be weather damage? Or perhaps just due to general wear and tear?’

I got to my feet and went over and stood next to him. ‘Only if the weather has started using a chisel.’

‘A chisel?’

‘Or something like it.’

Mason hauled a hand through his wavy hair. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yes. Someone has had a really good go at obliterating that carving.’

He gazed into the middle distance for a few moments, before turning back to me. ‘It might be an idea for us to have another look at Georgina Lapley’s diary. We need to check if there’s any reference to this Gideon Kelly in there.’

‘So, you think there could be some connection?’

A flicker of optimism crossed his face. ‘You know, up until now, I disagreed with you about all this. I was sure this Gideon Kelly lead was just a deliberate ploy by some idiot to put us off.’

‘And now?’

A trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘Don’t push your luck, Rapunzel.’

Chapter Thirty-Three

After our visit to the cemetery, Mason suggested we have supper at the Sea Shanty. Its pillared frontage overlooked the harbour, and while not as salubrious as some of the other local eateries that had sprung up over the years, its bar food was delicious.

I chose a booth for us by the floor-to-ceiling window, which looked out onto an arm of rocks that pushed their way into the foamy waves. In the distance, McKerron Castle’s darkening shadows lengthened on the cliff face.

Mason collected two menus and eased himself into the seat opposite me. ‘So,’ he announced with a curious look over the top of his laminated menu, ‘what’s with the fascination with highwaymen, then?’

I studied him. ‘You make me sound like some Regency groupie. If you mean, why am I so interested in the Scarlet Highwayman, I’ve already told you. It’s because I feel a bit sorry for him. He’s not here to defend himself.’