Chapter Five

Apparently, those they were encountering seemed well aware there might be ears listening in on conversations throughout the public areas of Edinburgh, Luke determined.

Because Kevin and Catherine were careful to make it look like business as usual.

People at a pub, being friendly.

Jane Durfey was a young woman, a local, Luke assumed, if she was waiting for her father and brother. She had long soft brown hair and big amber eyes, and when they approached her table, she stood, greeting them warmly as if they were long-lost friends.

They quickly slid into the booth where she'd been seated, both smiling as if yes, they were good friends and it was great to see one another.

"I am so frightened! My father and brother will come so I'm not alone. I must work, as they must work, or we won't survive. But..." she began, leaning close over the table, her face scrunching in worry even as she tried to appear like she was laughing with friends. "I saw Lila, I talked to Lila. We talked about coming here. I had just met her, and I was with other friends. She was going to come and join us when she finished her drink at Filigree. I didn't realize until I saw the papers that something had happened. I have been so afraid, so afraid that anyone might be listening. I was terrified even to go to the police because they don't know... They can't protect each person, and whoever was there said something to her... That's how we heard about coming here, to Kevin's, and..."

"Jane, it's all right," Carly said gently.

"How can we go about, knowing..." Jane murmured.

"First," Luke told her, "you're being smart. Don't go anywhere alone. Whoever is doing this is looking for people who are alone, who appear to be vulnerable. We believe if they haven't gotten their victims to a state of inebriation so they do anything they're told, they're managing to get them onto a road off the beaten track. Somewhere they can slide by with a vehicle and force the person into it."

"They may also be slipping an especially potent whiskey into other drinks, something way over any legal alcohol limit," Carly told her. "So never—"

"Don't drink anything that isn't in an unopened can or a bottle," Jane said.

"Exactly," Carly said.

"When...how does this stop?" the girl whispered.

"I wish I could give you a promise," Luke told her. "But know this, every available means of law enforcement is working on the case. And with people like you, brave and smart about the way they're doing it and talking to us, we are getting closer. They are growing careless. They like being compared to Burke and Hare, and the comparison does exist because it's murder for money. From you, we know she did walk alone from Filigree to Kevin's, and she was stopped along the way. We will eventually have evidence we can trace to one of the people involved. Despite being told to walk back to the Royal Mile, she wasn't the type to be afraid of ghosts, so she probably took the side streets around the kirkyard. Jane, don't do anything alone or go anywhere alone. There is strength in numbers. You're smart, you're waiting for your dad and brother."

"Whoever took Lila saw me!" she whispered.

"But you won't be alone," Carly told her. "What Luke just said is the key for now. Don't be alone."

Jane nodded, looking toward the door. "My father and brother are here!" she said.

Luke looked toward the door of the establishment. A tall man of fifty or so was entering with a man who appeared to be his younger clone. Both men wore beards and mustaches in a sandy red color, with the father's showing signs of gray.

Luke stood politely, and Carly also slid out of the booth, allowing for the newcomers to sit. But Jane stood as well, hurrying over to them and hugging them, whispering to them as she did so.

Then her father and brother moved across the room to greet Luke and Carly, also behaving as if they were greeting old friends.

"We'll leave you," Luke said quietly. "You have a very smart daughter, sir," he added.

As they spoke, Jordan Dowell reached the pub, and Luke gave Jane a little nod to let her know Jordan was with them.

Again, greetings went around like old friends who made a chance meeting at a pub.

"Perhaps you should join us," Jane's father said.

"No, we never meant to intrude—" Carly began.

"And we should get back and get to sleep," Luke said. "We have work in the morning."

Jane looked bereft. They had made her feel more secure, Luke thought.

But Jordan solved the problem. He smiled at the group and glanced at Luke for approval. "I can stay a bit, if you'll have me."

"Please!" Jane said.

"And the two of us do need a bite to eat!" her father told them.

"Jordan, that's great. Oh, you delivered that bit of mail, did you?" he asked.

"Aye, that I did!" Jordan assured them. "See you at work, bright and early," he promised cheerfully.

"We'll just go tell Kevin how much we like his place!" Carly said, nodding at Luke. And he knew, of course, she wanted to thank Kevin and Catherine. It was gratifying that while Kevin and Catherine needed to stay in business, they were also concerned for their patrons' safety and tried to do what they could.

Kevin nodded gravely to them, and Catherine took a moment to speak with them to thank them in return.

"Hey, don't you leave here alone. I know they're putting out extra patrols on the streets, but still—" Luke warned her.

Catherine laughed. "I'm okay. Kevin knows I work with the energy of a busy bee—we both live near here, so I walk in with him, and I walk out with him. He sees me to my door!" she assured them.

They managed to leave at last, glancing back at the table where Jordan had now joined Jane Durfey and her family.

"Strange," he murmured to Carly.

"What's that?"

"Both our handsome young lads seem to be finding romance as we investigate," he said.

"You think?"

"I think—and I think it works. Well, I mean, who knows? They might have a single date and move on, but Daniel and Flora seem to have a bit of a thing, and now...ah, Romeo Jordan Dowell, smiling with the lovely young Jane!"

Carly shrugged. "Not a bad thing. We met working together."

"True. Of course, the road to true love is never easy. They could date a night and discover that they don't get on at all, or go for weeks and one of them meets someone else, or—"

"Bah humbug!" Carly said. "Wow! What a pessimistic way to look at things. Should I be—"

"No!" Luke paused, turning to grin at her. "Never," he assured her. "You are the other half of me."

"Well, that's what partners are," she assured him.

"In every way, right?" he asked. "I was just..."

Carly laughed. "Being a total pessimist for our young friends. Hey, those two just met. And Daniel hasn't met up with Flora yet. That comes tomorrow." She paused, frowning, questioning his route with, "Shouldn't we be headed back toward the Royal Mile—"

"We're both armed. I thought we should take the route of darkness where bad things might happen."

"Ah, good thinking."

But that night, they traveled the back roads seeing no one. It seemed the citizens of the city were taking care, a very good thing.

At one of the graying ancient brick walls that bordered the Greyfriars Kirkyard, they came upon a patrol officer who frowned and started to warn them to be careful on the streets, but Luke produced his badge and the man nodded.

"Thank you," Carly told him. "Great to see you out here. And..."

"Not a thing tonight, thank the good Lord above us! We are vigilant—we will be vigilant, but we are grateful for all help."

"As are we, always," Luke assured him before wishing him a good night.

When they reached the house, they discovered MacDuff and Daniel had just come in.

"Ah, and so, the troops return. Anything?" he asked, taking a seat at the table.

MacDuff and Carly joined him, and Daniel shook his head but did the same. "Nothing," Daniel said bleakly. "Well, not nothing. We did have a good dinner. We walked the area by Holyrood Park, and we cruised a few of the beaten paths..."

"And you?" MacDuff asked.

"A little better," Luke said, telling him first about their arrival at Filigree, the few things they'd "overheard" and Carly's communication with the bartender. She expected to hear from him again.

Carly had just begun to explain about going to Kevin's when MacDuff suddenly frowned and interrupted them.

"Jordan! Where is Jordan?" he asked.

"Still on the job. Speaking with a young woman I was about to tell you about," Carly said, explaining how at Kevin's they met Jane Durfey.

"He's alone out there?"

"But by UK law, he has a special permit to carry a firearm. I sincerely doubt anyone is going to surprise Jordan. He knows not to drink. In fact—"

"Aye, we need a news conference. The National Crime Agency needs to handle that—Brendan Campbell will take the lead," MacDuff said.

"I'm off to bed. Tomorrow will be long," Daniel said.

"Good plan," Luke said. "Carly and I are going to get some sleep, too."

He stood. MacDuff didn't. He was seated at the table, frowning.

"Sir?" Daniel said, looking at him.

MacDuff managed to give himself a shake, look at them and grimace ruefully. "Feeling like an old da, here, worried about the lad."

"That's easy to solve," Luke assured him, pulling out his phone and hitting the speed dial that now went straight to Jordan Dowell.

Jordan answered immediately.

"What's happened?" he asked anxiously.

"Nothing. I think tonight was a quiet night, just as we all thought it might be. But, of course, under the circumstances in which we are living and working, we're just checking on you."

"About to key in our code and enter the yard, in the house in less than two minutes, I do believe!"

"Great. And how—"

"Lovely people. I've made sure they have all our information. And we can end this call now. I'm coming in the front door!"

Jordan entered, closing the door, keying the alarm and then looking at their group who were gathered and staring at him.

He started to laugh. "Wait, I shouldn't be laughing. Glad you all were worried for me!"

"We will all worry for each other until this is done," Luke said, and glanced at Carly. "Strength in numbers. That's probably the most intelligent thing I've said all night."

She grinned. "Probably. All right, good night, all."

"Good night all, indeed," Daniel said as he started for the hallway, but he paused and turned back.

"Hmm, two mantras, a bit at odds! Strength in numbers, and divide and conquer!"

"But I don't think we should be dividing into less than twos," MacDuff said. "So, divide and conquer but strength in the numbers two and three!"

"Agreed, all," Jordan said.

"That from the lad who stayed on his own."

Jordan grinned. "I wasn't alone. First, I was with the lovely Durfey family. Secondly, I was with Christie."

"Christie?" Carly asked.

"His gun," MacDuff said dryly, rolling his eyes. "Fine! To bed!"

He passed by Jordan in the hall, shaking his head. His door closed with a bit of a slam.

Jordan laughed, turning to the others. "An old grouch as I said, but one of the best men I've come across, ever."

With a wave, he headed into his room.

His door closed quietly.

With a grin, Daniel headed in and closed his door. Carly looked at Luke with amusement and they headed into their assigned room together.

After they put their guns away and shed their clothing, Carly headed for the shower.

"Hey! What is your obsession with showers?" he called after her, thinking they'd curl in and see if the comfort of the bed sent them immediately into sleep—or something different.

She turned back to him.

"My obsession?" she queried, leaning against the doorframe. "Hmm...heat, steam, the deliciously sensual slickness of soap, heat, steam, bubbles...heat..."

"Gotcha!"

He leaped up in seconds flat to join her.

The comfort of sleep would come soon enough.

It couldn't have been more than six in the morning when Carly's phone started ringing.

They knew they'd be starting early, but she'd hoped for at least another thirty minutes of sleep! Of course, she answered it immediately and realized it was a call she had been anxious to receive, a call from the red-haired bartender at Filigree, William MacRay.

He started speaking in a rush as soon as Carly answered and identified herself. Luke rolled around on his pillow to look at her.

She hit the speaker button.

"I don't know what's going on. I mean, I wish I did, but someone at Filigree is involved. I don't know how. I don't see how they could be working and killing people at the same time, but..."

"Thank you and slow down, please!" Carly said. "Again, thank you. Are you in a safe place to speak?"

"Aye, I'm at home, wanted to call when I came in, but the hour was wee, nearly two in the morning, but I reckoned that you rose early and I've not been able to sleep."

"I'm so sorry and thank you for calling. But what have you seen? What do you know?"

"I know that the young German lass, Lila Strom, was taken soon after she left the restaurant."

He suddenly stopped speaking.

"William, please, what is it?" Carly pressed.

"I know what I was serving her. I know that she was not drunk. But I couldn't just stand in front of her. She was sweet, she was friendly. She talked to those around her. But..."

"William, please," she pressed gently.

"Marjory served her, too. And when she left, I saw Marjory make a phone call. I think that Marjory may have a special bottle somewhere that is spiked in some way and that... I think that she is working with the killers."

"All right. William, what is Marjory's last name?"

"Alden. Marjory Alden. We've worked together since Filigree opened. We're the two main bartenders. But when we started...she was easy, open. She's divorced, has a nanny who watches her children by night. I've met her wee ones, Reggie, six, and Alana, four. She was such a good friend, not in a dating way, just a friend and then suddenly, she clammed up. She'd answer questions, never ask any, avoid me... Something changed, something happened to her, and then I started to see she was topping off me drinks, giving free drinks...listening to people and making calls," he said.

"But...you didn't call the police or speak with the inspectors who went in there, asking about those who were discovered dead?" Carly asked.

"Speak about this—in front of her? And I can prove nothing! I dared not speak in front of her. These people are killing men. I leave there alone at the wee hours. I..."

"I understand—"

"And it was just this vague idea until...until I saw the pictures of Lila Strom. Until I remembered her smile and her laughter. And how she had chatted with Marjory when Marjory topped off her drink and then made the phone call. And I didn't know if I was being a tad on the side of paranoia, of suspicion because we're all wired with a bit of fear now. Perhaps I was just seeing things that weren't there. And I thought she had a bottle somewhere else with whiskey, but I could never figure out where, and so... I don't know. But last night I felt I had to talk to you, no matter how silly or panicky I might sound, and..."

"What you've done is right, William, and we truly thank you." She glanced at Luke and he nodded. "We'll be there tonight, William, with some research done ahead of time. Seriously, thank you for calling me, thank you. You are helping us hopefully save lives."

"Tell him to act as if everything is normal," Luke reminded her. "And, let's help him out. I believe he's really onto something—"

"Who is that?" William asked, fright in his voice.

"My partner. William, it's all right."

"Special Agent Luke Kendrick," Luke assured him. "As grateful for your help as Carly, William. And I don't want you to worry today. We're going to talk to our teammates with Police Scotland and see you're given protection during the day."

"Thank you!" William said.

"We'll see you tonight at the pub," Carly said. "And please, go to work, behave as if everything is as always."

"I hope I'm a decent enough actor," William said.

"I know you can be. And you have my phone number. If anything happens that frightens you in any way, please call me immediately."

"I'll be in my house until this evening. You can trust in that!" William said.

"And patrol will see you get to work safely," Luke assured him.

"If I'm seen with police—"

"You won't. They know how to keep a safe distance," Luke assured him.

"I will try for sleep, then!" William told them.

"Tonight," Carly said, and ended the call. She looked at Luke. "I saw Marjory, of course. But I didn't see her doing anything that appeared suspicious," she told him.

"Maybe she has a sixth sense—not the ghostly kind—just the self-preservation kind," Luke told her. "Or, you were talking to William and then you left the bar quickly. Maybe there was no one who appeared to be a good candidate at the bar. Maybe William has imagined his fears and suspicions. But I am going to speak with MacDuff right away and see MacRay is protected."

"Good plan," Carly agreed.

Luke swung out of bed, dressing quickly. She did the same.

"Not quite seven and we're moving forward," he murmured to her. "That's not too shabby."

"Right. Let's see if our teammates are moving. And—"

"And I didn't lie—we'll report on William's call and get him protected," Luke said.

He collected his Glock, concealing it in the holster at his side under his jacket, and opened the door for Carly. She had chosen stretch pants and a knit shirt—and a long suede coat that covered the Glock she, too, was carrying. Thank God they had the special permits.

They were the first in the dining room/conference area, and the first to the kitchen, where Luke let out a sound of delight.

"What?" Carly asked, looking at him.

"Sorry," he said with a laugh. "The little pleasures in life. Someone set the coffee to brew this morning for seven. Just perked, fresh and strong. And who ever said Scots only drink tea?"

Carly smiled in response. "I don't think anyone ever said that they only drink tea—just that they drink more tea than we do in America. But I'm with you on the gratitude thing for whoever remembered to set the pot to brew!"

"That would be me," MacDuff announced, joining them.

"Then thank you!" Luke said. "And I'm glad you're up—"

"Of course I'm up!" MacDuff said gruffly.

Luke smiled at Carly and continued with, "We have a lead."

He went on to explain Carly's—and then his—conversation with William MacRay.

"And you think this Marjory, the other bartender, could really be guilty in this?" MacDuff asked.

"I don't think she's killing anyone. But I do think she's calling them when there's a possible victim about to appear out on the streets. And that maybe, just maybe, she does have something with which she's spiking drinks. Bartenders do buy drinks for clients, or top off what they've already purchased. It would be easy enough for her to get away with it," Carly told him.

"All right, we'll look into the lass. And I'll see to it Mr. MacRay is guarded in his living quarters and on his way to work," MacDuff said. "And I've spoken with Campbell—he's giving a press conference at nine this morning to warn people to travel in groups and take grave care with what they're drinking."

"Important advice," Luke said. As he spoke, Daniel entered the kitchen. Luke didn't need to speak with him.

Daniel just lifted a hand and said, "Aye, I will be talking to Miss Flora MacDonald quite soon. She has an eight o'clock class, and I'm to meet her for coffee right after."

"Not alone," Carly murmured.

"What?" Daniel asked her.

"Men have a natural instinct to worry about women, which is human and caring," Carly said. "But these people just want human organs. And we seriously don't know who is involved."

"I believe she's trying to help us and may have important information," Daniel said, not being argumentative, still just confused.

"I believe that, too," Luke told him. "I think we all do. But since we don't know anything for sure yet—"

"I'll be his wingman," MacDuff said.

Jordan walked into the kitchen, grinning. "What a wingman!" he said.

"Unobtrusive and sitting at a table nearby," MacDuff said, ignoring Jordan.

"This is serious," Luke said, "and Carly is right. We don't want to become victims ourselves while we're investigating."

"Easy enough, you two are a duo," Jordan said, helping himself to coffee.

"And we can become different duos when needed," Luke said. "We need to bring everyone up to speed on everything."

They sat at the table. Luke and Carly told Jordan and Daniel about William MacRay and their plan to be at Filigree again that night. They talked about Jane Durfey and her family, and how Jane's information had gelled with something going on with someone at Filigree.

Their phones all chimed at once, and they looked at one another and then at their phones, dreading the possibility of another victim.

"Report on the glass shards!" Jordan said. "Our forensic crew worked fast for us!"

They all looked at their phones and read.

There were no fingerprints on the glass, other than those belonging to Lila Strom; saliva found also matched her DNA. If the killers had touched the glass, they'd worn gloves.

But what was interesting was the residue of the contents of the glass. It was well over the highest proof of alcohol that was legally sold in the United Kingdom.

"Okay, so, we're taking steps forward," Luke said, still looking down at the text they were all reading. "These people are being given spiked or enhanced drinks. They are watched by accomplices who let the killers know when a possible victim is on the move. We've suspected as much. So, these are the variables we're working with—finding out who has the resources to create such a potent brew, who has the facilities for murder and organ removal, and just how they are getting them to the buyers. We're also looking for someone with medical knowledge. A person can murder someone and disembowel them easily enough, but doing it in a manner that will allow for a transplant is another story."

"We have a doctor involved. Or at the very least, someone who knows about anatomy and how to make sure an organ can survive. But even then, given the time frame on transplants..." Carly said, and lifted her hands.

"Do you think the transplants are being done somewhere here?" MacDuff asked.

"Not necessarily. By plane, you can reach many other countries within an hour or two," Luke said. "But there is always going to be a time element involved."

"Unless someone is just chopping up people for the fun of it, for special or ritualistic meals—" Jordan began.

"They left some of my favorite bakery's scones in plastic wrap somewhere in here," MacDuff said, striding along the counter. "Ah, here! A plate of them."

"Nice. Cannibalism makes him think of scones!" Jordan said.

MacDuff just shook his head.

"Um, not the most appetizing conversation," Carly said, "but I'll take a scone!"

Despite the topic, they all wound up grabbing scones. Every one of them was convinced the killing going on was murder for profit. While the last two bodies had been displayed, there was nothing to indicate a cult being busy at work.

Unless, Carly thought, a business enterprise that involved murder could be considered a cult.

A call came in, which they picked up. It was Jackson, and it was a video call to all of them, and it also included Brendan Campbell.

"We've been investigating on several ends," Jackson told them. "And almost always, there's a small private island for sale off the Scottish coast. As I'm assuming you already know, some are big enough for cottages, some are buildable...all different. We're researching twenty-two that have been purchased in the last few years and three that have been owned by the same families for decades but haven't been inhabited by those families for years and have been let as rental properties. We're still working and will keep working along with the tech team there."

"Closer to home," Brendan Campbell told them. "Thanks to your tip we have everything available on Marjory Alden. I believe your source told you she was divorced. Her ex-husband in now living and working in Ireland. She has full custody of her children, but apparently the children's schools were told they're spending time with their father in Cork, so they're out of school for a bit. The nanny is still being paid so Marjory doesn't lose her services, but the nanny has her own apartment with a number of friends. Marjory is basically living alone at this time. She has no record—so far, the woman appears to be an upstanding citizen. We've also researched the Douglas family, and right now there are no red flags. But! No offense, MacDuff. Today, Jordan will need to be Daniel's wingman. The coffee shop that Flora suggested is near campus. Jordan can keep his distance. If he's seen, he'll just greet Daniel and act as if he's enjoying a little time away from the grind."

And so it was decided.

Daniel—with Jordan as his "wingman"—would be heading out to meet Flora MacDonald.

MacDuff had arranged for Carly, Luke and himself to visit the Douglas family. Carly thought it would be interesting to see if the Douglas couple watched the news—and if Brendan Campbell's news conference for the National Crime Agency would play while they were there.

MacDuff drove, knowing the ins and outs of the streets of Edinburgh better than either Carly or Luke—what was pedestrian-only, what was one-way, and what led to a tiny vennel or a dead end. It was a great city for walking, and Carly loved just looking at the weathered buildings, thinking of all the things that had gone on in the past, and how it had developed into such a vibrant city known for its citizens' contributions to the arts and sciences.

They didn't arrive the way they had before—they came to the front of the grand properties. But just as in the back, there was a call box that allowed entry to the Douglas house. A man answered and welcomed MacDuff. They were expected.

Ian Douglas clicked the lock to the gate open and they entered. Again, Carly found herself marveling at the historic grandeur that could be found in so many places. Not that there weren't stunning and expansive estates in the United States, but like his neighbors' house, Ian Douglas's home was truly unique.

"There should have been a pack of spirits running around these halls," Luke whispered to Carly.

She smiled. Thinking of the history that occurred in or near them, yes. But if ghosts were haunting the historic manors, they weren't making any efforts at communication.

"Come in, come in, please," Ian said, welcoming them at the open door to his house. "We would do anything to help you in any way! You must be the Americans," he said. "Pleased to have you here. Mellyora has a snack ready, I wasn't sure if you'd had time for a meal."

"We had a few scones," Carly said, shaking his hand and introducing herself and Luke. "But it's lovely you're so willing to help us."

Ian Douglas was a man of about fifty, tall and dignified with silver hair. He swept out a hand, indicating that they come through what must have been a great hall at one time and now, as in his neighbor's house, had been brought up to the present with a TV screen that might have done a small theater proud, a stereo system and comfortable seating to go with it all.

They were led into a dining room. One thing was certain, whether anyone here was guilty of collusion in any way, they were not just polite—they were warm and welcoming.

"My wife, Cassandra," Ian said, introducing the woman who waited for them in the dining room. She was about five-six with dark hair neatly trimmed to frame her face, bright blue eyes and a friendly countenance.

She greeted them warmly, sweeping her hand out to indicate the table. "Shortbread, of course, oatcakes, and the little pies are smoked salmon. I tried to keep it to little bits of food that might be held in one hand. Please, I do hope you will enjoy. I didn't do the cooking myself. I wouldn't do that to you. All is from our favorite grocer."

"This is incredibly nice of you," Carly said, smiling.

They were all seated. They passed around the delicacies. Carly glanced at Luke. If nothing else was gained, they were able to sample some fine food on their expeditions.

Cassandra glanced at her husband. She sighed and looked back at Carly, and then at MacDuff, back to Carly and then downward.

"To be quite honest, I feel terribly guilty," she said, as if she were speaking to her lap. "There is something that I didn't say...and I don't know if it's important or not."

"What is it?" Luke asked her.

She glanced nervously at her husband again.

"Cassandra, please, just speak to them. They won't think you're horrible, and I know they'll be very careful and discreet."

"Please, what is it? We're eager for any help in any way. And as your husband said, we investigate everything very carefully and don't need to tell anyone where we learned anything," Luke said.

Again, Cassandra glanced at her husband.

"Where else could they have learned this?" she whispered, but Carly reached across the table and gently set a hand on Cassandra's.

"Please," she said softly.

Cassandra winced.

"All right, I thought at first, I mean it may mean nothing, but..."

"But?" Luke prompted softly.

"I saw our neighbor in the alley that night. I—I saw Ewan Connoly in the alley just before dawn, and I thought after we'd learned what had happened that the poor soul who was murdered must have been back there then...but I might have been wrong! It was dark. It might have been someone else, I just thought it was Ewan, and if I'm wrong... What am I doing?"