Death of an Adept

McLeod shook his head. "I doubt it. The other man in the car was Macaulay's nephew, a chap named Treen. When Chisholm checked into his background, he found out that some years ago, Treen had been a student of veterinary medicine at the University of Aberdeen before getting thrown out for poor performance. No one seemed to know much about his drinking habits, but when Chisholm's men paid a visit to his farm, one of the things they found was an old horse-box with cattle droppings scattered all over the floor. More to the point, amongst the livestock papers stuffed away in Treen's desk were the registration documents and vaccination certificates for a two-year-old Black Angus bull. The animal in question was nowhere to be found on the premises, and in the absence of any bill of sale, it seemed reasonable to suspect that this was the beast slaughtered at Callanish.

"All of which circumstantial evidence," he went on, "prompted Chisholm to order some forensic work done on the bodies. When traces of bull's blood turned up on the men's shoes and under their fingernails, no one was much surprised. It f.eems pretty obvious now that these two individuals were directly involved in the Callanish incident. It seems equally obvious that somebody else wanted to ensure they didn't talk about it afterwards."

"Which suggests very strongly that the situation warrants our looking into it," Julian said.

Philippa nodded thoughtfully. "Let's go back to that name your Mr. Nimmo picked up," she suggested. "What was it again - Taliere?"

"Aye," said McLeod. "I ran the name through our files and came up empty. Whoever this Taliere may be, he doesn't seem to have a police record - at least not in Lothian and Borders or Strathclyde Departments, and not under that name. Of course, we've got six other jurisdictions in Scotland, and I've started inquiries in all of them; but without a central database to work from, it could be weeks before we get any useful results. That's assuming, of course, that Taliere is a real name, and not a pseudonym, and that he's come to police attention in the past."

"It sounds like we wait, then, and see what further you can turn up," Philippa said. "Adam will be back in two days' time. Maybe by then, we'll know something more."

Chapter Fifteen

ARRIVING at London Heathrow at mid-morning on New Year's Eve, Adam and his bride of a week caught the first available connecting flight to Edinburgh. As the Air UK shuttle began its descent, just past one o'clock, he was profoundly relieved to see the familiar sprawl of Edinburgh taking shape off the starboard wing, with the snow-capped ridge of Arthur's Seat rising like an iceberg above the historic tangle of the city center. Though both he and Ximena had managed to doze during the nine-hour trans-Atlantic flight, the added strain of the preceding week had taken its toll. Ximena was heavily asleep in the seat beside him. As the Fasten Seatbelts sign came on, he turned to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Wake up, querida" he murmured fondly.

Ximena roused with a start and glanced at her watch.

"Good heavens, is that really the time? I only meant to rest my eyes."

"You obviously needed the sleep," Adam said with a smile, brushing a fingertip lightly down one cheek. "You haven't missed anything important. How do you feel?"

Smiling drowsily, she let her gaze shift out the window beyond Adam, at the broadening vista of the city and its surrounding hills, white with snow. A contented sigh escaped her lips.

"I feel like it's good to be home again," she said, resting her head on his shoulder and slipping her arm through his.

Humphrey was waiting for them in the domestic baggage claim area, holding a large bouquet of mingled roses, lilies, and forget-me-nots. As soon as they emerged from Arrivals, he stepped forward and presented it to Ximena.

"Welcome back to Scotland, Dr. Lockhart," he said, with a courtly little bow. "It's a pleasure to have you back with us."

"Why, thank you, Humphrey, these are gorgeous!" she exclaimed delightedly. "Adam says you always think of everything."

Humphrey shrugged and lowered his eyes modestly, but his smile was almost equal to Ximena's as he belatedly shook the hand Adam offered.

"Thank you, Humphrey. It's good to see you."

"And you, Sir Adam. Welcome home. If you'd like to wait in the car, I'll collect the luggage and meet you there. I've brought the Range Rover, since I didn't know how much you'd have. Also, the weather looks uncertain."

"Good thinking," Adam replied, handing Humphrey the claim checks. "There are five pieces. Is the car at the curb?"

"It is, sir. Being looked after by one of Inspector McLeod's lads."

Grinning, Adam took the keys Humphrey offered. "See you there, then."