Chapter Three

They were approximately two blocks off the Royal Mile. And as they had been that morning, they were in a narrow vennel.

Worn crime scene tape still blocked off an area, but it was fading. And as they walked down the alley, MacDuff shook his head and went to rip away the tape. "They're done here," he told them. "As we all know, killing and disemboweling takes place elsewhere. And as moving around today has shown us, they're scoping everything out and just delivering the bodies to these locations. But..."

He paused, pointing to a place between the rear of two businesses. "That's where she lay. Even when we arrived, she looked as if she were sleeping. She was discovered early, around six thirty in the morning by Quint Robertson, a sanitation worker. He tried to wake her. She was covered not with a blanket, but with her trench coat. He threw the coat back on top of her the minute he saw her torso and called us. We were here soon after. We've been careful. Absolutely no photos have gotten out in any way, shape or form."

"That's good to hear," Luke told him. He pointed to the wall and the doors on either side of the area where MacDuff had indicated the corpse had lain. "What are these two businesses?" he asked.

"McKinley Accounting Associates and a place called Lock-It," MacDuff said. "Lock-It is a company that designs individual high-tech security systems. Both places close at five in the afternoon. None of the employees—only six between the two, three accountants and three consultants—were out in the vennel the day she was discovered."

"No security cameras out here?" Carly asked. "And the one company designs high-tech security systems?"

"Ironic, huh?" Jordan said dryly. "No. According to Kent Logan, owner of Lock-It, no one is ever back here—no reason for anyone to ever be back here—and there is continual video being taken at the front of the business."

The alley was narrow and led to a wall. It was kept clean.

There was nothing in it except, as in other areas they had been, large dumpsters or trash receptacles.

"Quint Robertson was here for the trash—they come from the main road with receptacles to take them from here. With only two businesses here, it's usually an easy gig for the workers. The trash tends to be paper, so not too messy."

Luke nodded and walked over to the receptacle.

"I take it that—"

"Aye, forensics went through the trash," MacDuff assured him.

"All right, then," Carly said, standing by Luke's side. "Thank you, Michael—"

The man grinned. "You can call me MacDuff, I won't be offended. The kid goes by Jordan but somehow, my surname became the name everyone uses for me—including my wife."

"Well, that's because MacDuff is a cool name," Carly told him.

"Almost as cool as MacDonald," he teased in turn. "All right. Let's get back to headquarters. Our headquarters. I mean the house."

It took less than five minutes to return to their home base.

"Weeknight," Jordan said, as they keyed in the code to get through the gate. "Do you think they'll be out tonight? The speed seems to be picking up—nothing like a major moniker in the media to get a good serial killer going. But I believe they'll give it at least a day's cooling-off period."

"And you're probably right," Luke agreed. "But you have a list of places where the victims were seen before they were discovered, right?"

"We have a list. Obviously, we've been to all of them. But you need to remember, pubs are friendly places. Bartenders remember the victims, but they saw them talking to several people, none of them regulars. I believe the killers are purposely choosing people who are tourists or in the city for business. That way, they're not known by the regulars. But..."

"Yeah, we've been on this before. It will be good just to go out, speak to the bartenders or waitstaff again," Carly said. "We don't need to grill them—just chat and let them know we're working the case, and we're here if they see anything suspicious."

"Tonight, how about this. MacDuff, you and Jordan know the terrain, the bartenders and the waitstaff, and probably some locals who are out. We can split into two groups to cover more ground. Jordan with a couple of us and you with..."

"If Jordan and I head out together," Daniel said lightly, "we might have to spend the evening fighting the lasses off!"

MacDuff groaned. "Jordan, you head out with Luke and Carly. Daniel, you'll come with me. That will keep you safe from those voracious lasses."

"Great, I get to go with McGruff!" Daniel said, grinning. "MacDuff! Sorry, sorry. No, not really, I was teasing, but the thing is, of course, it's a deadly—in every sense of the word—situation. But we're going to need to behave like people just out for a wee bit of night life ourselves."

"Exactly," MacDuff said. "And indeed, lad, I like that! MacGruff. Don't you forget it!"

"Okay, so we need to head out early. How early?" Carly asked.

"Let's say six. I'll go through some establishments and make suggestions. Of course, it won't be so bad since we've had Mrs. Connoly's scones and little else. Dinner will be fine."

"Agreed," Carly said. She headed toward the table and her computer. "Until then... I'm going to go through those crime scene photos," she announced.

Daniel joined her at the table and Luke did the same.

"See you in a bit," MacDuff said. "I've, uh, seen more than the photos."

He headed toward his room, and Jordan did the same.

Luke sat, turned on his computer and stared at the screen.

The photos weren't as grisly as they were tragic. The victims had been carefully slit open, their bodies cut in what was almost a heart shape from just below their collarbones to their groins.

There was very little blood to be seen.

But as he stared at the photos, Luke murmured, "Hmm."

"What?" Carly asked him, and he realized she and Daniel were staring at him.

"Sorry. I was wondering how this person could have delivered these bodies to these locations without...well. Even if they had bled out elsewhere, in order to lift them, carry them, lay them out...they had to be covered in bits of flesh. They had to have blood on them. And as we all know, everything leaves something behind. They're choosing their places where they don't believe anyone will possibly see them at a chosen time. But they must have a car nearby, and that car...if we can find it, I believe we'll be able to find hairs, skin, epithelial cells...something."

"True," Daniel agreed. "We just need to find whatever vehicle they're using. Which, of course, is easier said than done. But it's my understanding Police Scotland has increased patrols at all hours. It is going to get harder for these people to carry out their...their dumps, if nothing else."

MacDuff reappeared from his room.

"I've spoken with Campbell and your man in the States, Jackson Crow," MacDuff told them. "I've suggested they do computer searches of the small islands. His second-in-command, Angela Hawkins, is apparently brilliant when it comes to computer traces. She's also going through all the footage from the front of the shops. Checking traffic cameras, anything."

"That's great," Carly told him. "Angela is brilliant. They do have a great team, though of course, there are great teams here. These people will be found. It's a matter of..."

"Just how many may die until we do stop them," Luke finished, looking grimly at MacDuff.

MacDuff walked over to the table. "We are the lead team. We are the investigators, but I swear to you, lad, Police Scotland and the National Crime Agency are working twenty-four seven also. We're not alone."

"We do know that," Luke assured him. "You just know, of course, as we do that it's incredibly frustrating when we have so little." He frowned. "I still want to have a conversation with Flora." He glanced at Carly. "Well, we could even do it as a friendly thing. MacDonald! We could say—"

"I don't think we're going to need to do that," Daniel said.

They all looked at him, and he grinned as he showed them his phone.

"She texted me."

"She texted you—and what did she say?" Luke asked.

"That it was a pleasure meeting me. And I now have the lass's phone number!" Daniel said, grinning at them.

"All right, then, you need to arrange to meet her and ask her a few questions," Luke said.

MacDuff frowned. "Do you think the lass could be involved?"

"No," Luke told him.

"Then," MacDuff said, frowning, "you think the Connoly couple could be guilty in some way? I can't imagine why. They obviously don't need the money."

"Well, we can't be sure of that. Despite the property," Carly said, "they could be in hock. We'll have their financials checked as a safeguard. And we will check on Ian Douglas, the neighbor, and his situation also. We just need to eliminate all those we can."

MacDuff nodded slowly. "Because we never do know. As we've all seen, the most charming and upright individual on the outside can be the most warped on the inside."

"Sometimes we can only go by what we see on paper," Daniel said. "But I do think I might get to know the lovely young Flora MacDonald. I mean, after all, she's a descendant of a historical heroine! She comes from a very helpful line!"

"Maybe we should just start calling him Casanova," Jordan suggested.

MacDuff groaned and they all laughed.

"Getting close to time to see about some dinner," Jordan reminded them. "I'm going to spruce up a bit!"

He grinned and left them.

Carly stood. "Think I'll change for our night on the town," she said. "We were both here for a bit before, you know," she told MacDuff. "And I came many times while I was growing up and even in recent years. I know a few places, but of course not where our victims were last seen."

"Aye, and that is even my problem. Naturally, we toured the area with pictures of our victims—in life—and queried everyone everywhere. But restaurants and pubs can be busy. They may have been in one place and gone on to another, but not have noted where they went next. But..."

"Don't worry," Carly assured him, smiling. "We are very good at pretending to be eager American tourists!"

She disappeared down the hall to head to her room and change for the evening.

Luke realized he was watching Carly and that in turn, MacDuff was watching him.

"Most unusual," MacDuff told him.

"Carly?"

MacDuff laughed. "You and Special Agent MacDonald. It's rare that such a partnership and relationship can work. But you two are it. Most unusual. Quite the team. Very rare, indeed."

Luke lowered his head for a minute.

He doesn't know just how rare we really are, and that in working the last case, we discovered Daniel Murray, too, is among the "rare."

He looked up, shrugging. "We somehow do make it all work."

MacDuff nodded. "My wife," he told Luke, "was a barrister. Now, that didn't work out well, since it would most obviously be a conflict of interest were she called upon to represent someone I had brought in. But she found she loved and preferred teaching. Though, I swear, while we were in a bit of a quandary, I did offer to find different employment. She was adamant that I stay on the force. She'd been called upon to defend a few people she found to be indefensible morally if not professionally. So here, I believe you are perhaps on the right track—both on the same side of that track."

"You're right. At least it's easier for us. We are on the same side," Luke said. "That must have been something. I'm happy for you and that you two worked it out."

MacDuff grinned. "We have three fine children and our first little grandchild on the way. May your life be so blessed, and I think that it will be. Well, hmm. I shall get myself into something more presentable to wear."

"I'll do the same," Luke said.

MacDuff disappeared into his room but before Luke could reach his own, Daniel appeared in the hallway.

"Luke," he said, almost whispering, trying to make sure neither Jordan nor MacDuff were anywhere near them. "There was something..."

"Something, Daniel, what do you mean, something?" he asked.

"I know that... I'm new to discovering our, uh, talent, or whatever one calls this strange ability—"

He was referring to the ability of Krewe members to see and speak with the dead who remained behind, and who realized that they might be seen and heard, and wanted to help. Apparently, Daniel had always sensed them, but during their last case, his own ability had flourished. He had been incredibly relieved to realize he wasn't losing his mind—and not alone in the ability.

Luke grinned at him. "Some would call it a curse."

Daniel grimaced at him. "When we were near the park, the first crime scene... I didn't see anyone but... I sensed we were being watched. I think if we can get back there, just you, Carly and me...maybe we can find someone who did see something." He cast his head to the side. "Because unless these people doing the killing somehow happen to be blessed with this ability along with their penchant for cutting up the living, the dead would be those who might have been there when something was happening."

"You realize, Daniel, that even if we do find something out, we'll need evidence," Luke reminded him.

"In the greater area here, there are at least five-hundred thousand residents," Daniel reminded him, his Scot's burr growing deeper as he hurriedly spoke. "If we know where to look for evidence—"

"Daniel, you're right. Tomorrow we'll find a way to get back there."

"You believe me? You trust me?" Daniel asked him anxiously.

"Very much so," Luke assured him. "We must use anything that we can." He smiled. "That's why we're a special part of the Krewe of Hunters, Daniel. We're the team who goes in when unusual crimes demand unusual law enforcement."

"Aye, right, of course," Daniel murmured. "So, I'll be off with MacDuff. I'll take care—"

"Of course you will. I know you will. But seriously, Daniel, I don't know why—I think it's going to be important to keep that relationship you have going with Flora. I can't explain why. The Connoly couple appear to be solid, and I'm not saying they might be guilty of being involved in any way. But I simply have a gut feeling that we've missed something. And we still want to speak with the neighbors—the Douglas family. But there is only so much that can be done in a day. Tomorrow, however, we will get back to that area near the park, and we'll go by to see the Douglas couple and whoever else lives at their estate, and—"

"And we'll meet with Flora. I'll see that it happens," Daniel vowed.

"Perfect. Well then, Casanova, go get dressed and I'll do the same!"

Luke left Daniel and went on into the bedroom.

Carly had dressed for the evening in a soft knit maxi-dress in a deep navy color, one that seemed to enhance the dark swirl of her hair and eyes. It was conservative, but the knit also clung to her in the right places.

"This okay?" she asked him.

"You look stunning," he told her.

She laughed. "Ah, but does it make me look as if I'm perfectly healthy and fit?"

"Oh, so far beyond!" he told her, taking a minute to pull her into his arms. "Hmm, what can I wear that will come close?"

"You can wear anything," she assured him. "You know, we've tried this before, searching for the Holmes associates."

"And it's still a good plan," he told her. "Especially when I believe there is little else we can do until morning. I'm no slouch at a computer, but we have people way more talented than you or I when it comes to gleaning information from the internet. I want to get back to the Douglas house, and we need to see what Daniel can glean from Flora... Anyway, we do need to eat."

She smiled at him, reaching up to move a lock of hair from his forehead.

"True."

"And..." He hesitated.

"What?"

"Daniel thinks he sensed...someone at the first location near Holyrood."

"Sensed? You mean—"

"Exactly. There might have been a dead man or woman watching. We were listening to MacDuff, and...okay. This is Edinburgh. The scene of some tremendously violent history."

She nodded. "And many of the dead we've met through the years don't particularly like to hang around in cemeteries. They love to go out and see the action, and while a living person might not be able to point out someone a victim was with...maybe a dead person can?"

He nodded. "That's our talent," he reminded her lightly. "Finding information when others can't, because they're not able to talk to the witnesses we may find."

"Yes, of course." She smiled. "Daniel is so new at this, and yet—"

"Good. And besides that he's rakish and charming, and I can't help but think there's something we can learn from Flora MacDonald."

"I just can't believe that girl is a killer or the accomplice of a killer," Carly said.

"That's because her name is MacDonald."

Carly laughed and protested. "No! She just seems so...open."

"I didn't say I thought she was guilty of something, but I believe she may know something, or she might have seen something. Maybe she doesn't even know what she's seen or knows, but one way or the other, the dump sites are being scoped out. The killers now want their victims discovered in their beautiful displays, but they don't want to be caught while they are setting them up."

"That is true. So, tomorrow, we're set. And for tonight, we get to eat dinner."

"And conversation. With others—besides ourselves."

"So, get dressed for a night out!"

He groaned softly but went ahead and dug in his luggage. He chose a newer pair of black jeans, tailored shirt and a long suede jacket. He shook his head as Carly watched him.

"Is this okay?"

"Very okay. You'll be giving the handsome young Daniel Murray a run for his money!" Carly teased.

"Hmm. I think tonight is going to be a learning experience. These killers—and there is no way that there is just one killer—are growing bold. They are amused and pleased by the press they're getting, but I think they will take a little care. They're not going to strike immediately."

"Ah, maybe not. But I also believe they work on supply and demand."

"Angela is checking out the islands along with others who know the country far better than any of us. No matter how many times we've been here, we need their help. Angela and the team here—and I never lie to those guys—I know they're good."

"Okay, so tonight, dinner and lots of charming conversation with bartenders and waitstaff at the restaurants and pubs. But, Luke, don't you think people are going to be more careful now, and they're going to be wary of strangers?"

"Yes," he said. He sat on the foot of the bed for a minute. "So, who do people not see as strangers?"

"Policemen and women?"

"Gotta trust a cop," he murmured.

"You think maybe someone in Police Scotland is guilty of this?" she asked.

Luke shook his head. "I think it's possible that at this point, someone has or will steal a uniform and start using it. Dinner! Let's go. Let's try to stop innocent-looking people if they look like they're going to go with a stranger, a pickup in a bar, whatever. You're looking especially lovely this evening, lass, and I'm also growing hungry."

"You know, we are familiar with so much on the Royal Mile, Luke. We've been here before, searching in the same way. I just wish—"

"That we could stop it tonight? Carly—"

"I know, I know. Fine. Dinner!"

She drew away, beckoning to him as she walked to the door.

Jordan Dowell was waiting for them.

"Daniel and MacDuff just left. MacDuff and I studied the places where the initial investigation showed us the victims had been during the night. They're heading to a new Italian place on the edge of New Town. The bartender there thought he recognized Brian Dresden. I thought we'd start out off the Royal Mile near Greyfriars Kirkyard where there's another up and coming restaurant, Filigree." He shrugged. "Great fish, shepherd's pie—"

"And haggis, of course," Luke said.

"Only on the weekends, so you're safe," Jordan said. "Ready? We all figured it was a walking night—more to see with people milling on the streets."

"All right then, lead the way," Carly told him.

"Aye. And by the way, you're exceptionally lovely this evening, Special Agent MacDonald."

"Thank you," Carly told him.

"Oh, sorry. You, too, Special Agent Kendrick. It's just she's my preference, I mean nothing wrong with it if she weren't, but—"

Luke laughed. "That's fine. I feel the same. Nothing wrong with it. But as you have all figured out, she is my preference."

Grinning, Jordan headed out of the house. Luke, taking up the rear, keyed in the house alarm and the alarm at the gate as they departed.

The streets were full at this time of night. Some tourists—maybe a bit nervous—were going to the hotels on and off the Royal Mile.

Luke assumed some people were part of the local population and were heading home from work, stopping to shop or perhaps to grab something to eat. And likewise, he assumed many were tourists busy trying to get in what they could before darkness fell.

He didn't think the killers were necessarily taking their victims at night. Darkness was simply a time of day that was instinctively feared more by most people. But it was also the time when far more people were prone to drink. For those who didn't indulge often, a few drinks often led to sleep. For those who enjoyed a little indulgence, it was the time when they could spend a few hours perhaps savoring a couple drinks slowly while spending time with friends and shaking off the day.

"Just people, pretty people, thinking people, heavy people...a few kids," Jordan murmured. "All moving about because we all need to move about. This is really..."

"We need more to go on. But we will get it," Carly assured him.

Jordan took a turn, leading them off the Royal Mile. As they walked along Greyfriars Kirkyard, Luke found himself pausing.

"Resurrectionists?" Jordan asked him. "Before Burke and Hare, people became paranoid about their dead, their loved ones. There were patrols, of course, and there were those who were caught trying to dig up fresh corpses, and they were prosecuted. Many people opted to buy what they called mortsafes for their loved ones, which were basically metal bars that made it extremely difficult and time-consuming to even attempt to get into a grave. From all I've heard, though, Burke and Hare didn't dig up bodies because they feared being caught. And most of all, they didn't want to be bothered by the work. When they had their first corpse fall into their hands through natural causes, they realized the value. And, of course, I never knew, either, but from what history tells us, they simply found murder a much easier means to an end."

"Right," Luke said. "There is sad history here, and touching history, too. This is where the little terrier, Bobby, sat at his master's grave."

"And Bobby is here, now, too, near his master but outside consecrated ground. The kirkyard is fascinating," Jordan said. "Oh, that sounds terrible—"

"Not at all," Carly assured him. "Graveyards are filled with history."

Jordan laughed. "Edinburgh is filled with history." He winced. "Odd as it may seem, Burke and Hare cost many people their lives, but into the following years, maybe they saved a few from like ends. The Anatomy Act of 1832 changed the regulations regarding the legal supply of corpses for medical purposes."

"Trust me, I understand laws, and they must protect the innocent as much as they must give us recourse against those who break them. But that Hare got off scot-free—oh, sorry, is that where that saying came from?" Carly asked.

Jordan laughed. "Maybe. It's disputed, from what I've read. A scot or a scat might have been part of a tax payment at one time, but some say it comes from America, from a man who escaped his slavery, Dred Scott—except the American Supreme Court at the time decided that as a slave, the man wasn't a citizen. To this day, many people consider it the worst decision the Supreme Court ever made!"

"Horrible, and in retrospect today, we all wonder how any human society could consider slavery right, except that—"

"In places and through crime, it goes on to this day," Jordan said. "I'm not picking on Americans!"

Carly laughed. "I didn't think you were doing so. History is history. We can't change it. We can only go by the philosopher George Santayana, ‘those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.'"

"True. So, we remember," Jordan said. "Why can't we remember that murder is wrong?" he asked. He shook his head. "I worked robbery for a while. Stolen goods were evidence, but then returned to their owners. With this...these people are stealing organs! The organs can't be returned to their owners."

"No, because this stealing is murder," Luke said. "I've been reading. There have been cases across the world where people manage a medical facade and take one kidney from a person to sell to the highest bidder. There have been cases in which people didn't even know one of their kidneys had been taken out. But they were left alive, and a human being can survive with one kidney. This is far worse."

"But these people are being stupid. They embraced the Burke and Hare attention. That's going to make them easier for us to get," Carly said determinedly. "Oh, I see the restaurant ahead. That's it, right, Jordan? Filigree?"

"That's it." He gave himself a shake. "I'm really looking forward to good food. So let's, um, shake this grave dust!"

He hurried on. Carly grimaced at Luke and they followed.