Death of an Adept

"Scotland has always been his power base," Adam reminded Peregrine. "Besides that, he probably feels he has unfinished business here - scores to settle, at the very least. Furthermore, I expect he's a man in withdrawal. Drug addiction is nothing compared to the addiction that can come of tasting and craving the kind and intensity of power delegated to him by the Head-Master - and we cut off his supply when we overturned the Head-Master's operation. I shouldn't be surprised if he's attempting to reforge that link with the old Pictish pantheon of elemental gods."

"The link with Taranis," McLeod muttered. "Bloody hell!"

"Adam, are you serious?" Peregrine murmured.

When Adam only nodded, Peregrine shook his head in horrified protest. "But - how could he do that? The tore was destroyed. Wouldn't he need some kind of power-focus to replace it?"

"Not necessarily. Not if a ritual means can be found to accomplish the same end," Adam replied. "That might explain why he's gone to the trouble of enlisting Taliere. As a Druid priest with an ancient pedigree, Taliere would have resources at his disposal that Raeburn lacks himself - as well as a signature of power strong enough to mask any other occult presence in the area."

"Aye, he would," McLeod grumbled. "I just wish we'd known about the Raeburn connection when we were up at Callanish. Maybe we'd have picked up a few more clues to go on."

"I doubt it," Adam said heavily. "Raeburn knew exactly what he was doing. The fact that he left the Callanish site uncleansed was a calculated diversion. We were meant to pick up Taliere's trail and squander our time chasing it. Meanwhile, Raeburn has been free to pursue his plans unmolested."

"So Taliere was nothing more than a red herring," Peregrine said. The reflection made him squirm inwardly. Putting his resentment behind him with difficulty, he asked, "How do we get back on the right track?"

"By consolidating our gains, such as they are," Adam replied. "At least we now know who we're up against, which is more than we knew yesterday. I suggest we open up a new line of inquiry by revisiting some of Raeburn's old haunts. If he's been anywhere near any of them, we may be able to pick up residuals from his presence."

"I see what you're saying," Peregrine said. "But if we do that, won't Raeburn realize that his ruse has run its course, and change his tactics accordingly?"

"Probably," Adam said with uncompromising candor, "but under the circumstances, I don't see that we have any other option."

"There's that country house Raeburn used to have on the other side of Stirling,'' McLeod offered, after a thoughtful silence. "That might be a starting place. I'll drive over there and have a look, see if anyone's living there now. If there's been a change of ownership, the paper trail may turn up a clue or two as to Raeburn's movements and associations."

"That's not a bad idea," Adam replied, "though I'd recommend you take someone with you. Donald, maybe. As we all know, accidents have been known to happen in this line of work."

"If it doesn't have to be a police backup, I'll go," Peregrine volunteered.

"Sounds fine to me," McLeod said. "I doubt Raeburn will be there."

"Fair enough. At least it's a starting point," Adam agreed. "In the meantime, since we can be reasonably sure that Raeburn and Taliere were together at Callanish, I suggest we go back and review Peregrine's sketches. Now that we know what we're looking for, something new may yet come to light."

"It's certainly worth a try," Peregrine said. "I'll get copies made up this afternoon and we can each go over them this evening."

Anything more he might have said was interrupted by a shrill electronic chirrup from the inside pocket of McLeod's jacket. The inspector rolled his eyes apologetically and pulled out a tiny mobile phone.

"McLeod… Oh. Right. Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can…Right. Bye."

He closed down the antenna with a wistful lift of his eyebrows and got to his feet.

"Sorry about that. Domestic crisis disrupts esoteric investigative efforts. Jane's had a plumbing disaster. There's water all over the kitchen floor. I think we're about through here anyway. I'll come by and pick up those photocopies tomorrow."

He took himself off, leaving Adam and Peregrine to finish their coffee. Adam was about to set his empty cup aside when he became aware that Peregrine was toying absent-mindedly with his coffee spoon, a look of baffled preoccupation on his face.

"Something bothering you, Peregrine?" Adam asked.

Peregrine looked up at the sound of his name, momentarily startled.

"No, not - bothering, exactly."

"Something to do with the Callanish case?"

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose so," Peregrine allowed. After a brief hesitation he continued. "I always had the impression that Sir John and the other folk at Oakwood all follow a mystical tradition derived, at least in part, from the ancient Druids."

"Essentially correct."