MacTavish & Scott - Dangerous Lies E-Book

Gitta Edelmann

• Herausgeber: beTHRILLED
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: Scottish Murders
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 200

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

This MacTavish & Scott case takes Finola not only to the bustling streets of Glasgow but deep into the past. Her new client, Kieran Ross, has undergone DNA testing for genealogy purposes. The result is shocking: He cannot possibly be his father’s child! With his father dead and his mother suffering from dementia, he enlists Finola’s help to discover the identity of his biological father. But as the seemingly innocent case unravels one dark secret after another, Finola is forced to confront the lengths to which desperate love can go.

About the series:

Young Scot Finola MacTavish has moved from the picturesque Isle of Skye to Edinburgh to work as a private detective in Anne Scott's agency. Along with computer whiz Lachie, the two lady detectives solve a series of baffling cases. Finola soon realises that she has a knack for investigation and shadowing people - preferably in disguise. What's more, she always has her granny's herbal medicine to hand, and the drops in question are much more than just a headache remedy ...

About the author:

Gitta Edelmann worked as a translator in Bonn, Rio de Janeiro, Freiburg and Edinburgh before moving back to the Rhineland, Germany. In addition to children’s stories and historical novels, she published a five-volume cosy crime series before starting on the mystery series MacTavish & Scott. The author also goes by the name of Lady of Glencoe and Lochaber as she owns a few square feet of land there.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

CoverMacTavish & Scott – The Lady Detectives of EdinburghAbout this EpisodeTitleChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33About the AuthorNext EpisodeCopyright

MacTavish & Scott – The Lady Detectives of Edinburgh

Young Scot Finola MacTavish has moved from the picturesque Isle of Skye to Edinburgh to work as a private detective in Anne Scott’s agency. Along with computer whiz Lachie, the two lady detectives solve a series of baffling cases. Finola soon realises that she has a knack for investigation and shadowing people … preferably in disguise. What’s more, she always has her granny’s herbal medicine to hand, and the drops in question are much more than just a headache remedy …

About this Episode

This MacTavish & Scott case takes Finola not only to the bustling streets of Glasgow but deep into the past. Her new client, Kieran Ross, has undergone DNA testing for genealogy purposes. The result is shocking: He cannot possibly be his father’s child! With his father dead and his mother suffering from dementia, he enlists Finola’s help to discover the identity of his biological father. But as the seemingly innocent case unravels one dark secret after another, Finola is forced to confront the lengths to which desperate love can go.

Dangerous Lies

Chapter 1

‘Thank you for coming, Mr Ross,’ Anne greeted the new client, taking his jacket and leading him into her office. ‘Given the somewhat complicated nature of the matter, I thought it might be more effective to discuss our approach in person rather than over the phone.’

‘I wholeheartedly agree, thank you.’

‘Please, have a seat.’ Anne gestured to the seating area with three burgundy armchairs surrounding a round table. On it, three brightly coloured cups were arranged alongside a milk jug, a sugar bowl and a plate of buttery shortbread fingers. ‘Ms MacTavish, the detective assigned to your case, will join us shortly.’

Mr Ross nodded and sat down, then set his briefcase down next to him with a soft thud. With his jet-black hair, greying temples and athletic build, the man was quite handsome, but he seemed tense and a little … angry? Or perhaps upset?

‘Would you like a cup of tea, or do you prefer coffee?’ Anne enquired.

‘Tea sounds lovely; I’m all coffeed out today.’ He smiled politely.

Anne took the teapot from the warmer on the shelf and poured them each a cup. She sat down and offered milk and sugar, but Mr Ross declined. He did, however, take one of the shortbread fingers.

Where was Finola?

Anne cast a quick glance at the door, where Olga was strolling in, holding her tail high and sporting an inquisitive expression.

Mr Ross furrowed his brow.

‘One moment, please, I’ll just let the cat out,’ said Anne, standing and picking Olga up. Of course, Olga was free to venture out into the garden through the kitchen cat flap whenever she pleased. But her curiosity always compelled her to investigate any unfamiliar presence in the house first. Regrettably, not all clients shared a fondness for cats.

‘Why are you carrying Olga around?’ Lachie asked through the open door as Anne walked past his office.

‘Client meeting,’ Anne replied quickly.

In the kitchen, she set Olga down by her food bowl and gave her a few treats. Then she returned to the office, where Finola was now seated with Mr Ross, making small talk.

Anne closed the door to prevent any further Olga-related intrusions.

‘Well then, Mr Ross. We touched on your situation during our phone conversation, but perhaps now you could elaborate on the details? It seems you’re looking for your father?’

Mr Ross nodded.

‘I’m Kieran Ross, son of Cristine and Farlan Ross. At least, that’s what I believed until yesterday. Farlan Ross can’t be my biological father, though. My cousin May is obsessed with genealogy at the moment and recently had her DNA tested through one of those platforms. You can find out which regions your ancestors are likely to have originated from and discover unknown relatives all over the world. She even found a fourth cousin or something along those lines in Massachusetts.’

He cleared his throat. ‘But I digress. Here’s the thing. May persuaded me to take a DNA test too. She wanted to find out whether the surprisingly high percentage of Southern European genes came from her father’s side or her mother’s. Both have passed away, unfortunately. She concluded that if these genes were inherited from her mother, I should have them, too, given that her mother was my father’s sister. I’m sorry, I don’t know if I’m making myself clear.’

Anne nodded. Years ago, she had helped her son Aidan with a family tree project for school and found it easy to visualise degrees of relationship.

‘And you received unexpected results?’ she asked.

Kieran Ross nodded. ‘Not only do I not share those Southern European genes with May … I don’t share any genes with her at all. We’re not related. So Farlan Ross couldn’t possibly have been my biological father.’

‘You said that your father is no longer alive?’

‘That’s right. He died nearly a decade ago, and my mother isn’t any help either. She’s severely disabled and suffers from dementia. Of course, I visited her yesterday as soon as I got the results, hoping to catch her on a good day. But it was no use. When I mentioned my birth, all she could talk about was how cute, chubby and adorable I was and how I had changed her life.’

He shook his head, then added, ‘She had given up hope of having a child when she became pregnant with me at thirty-six. Of course, I’ll keep trying to find out more from her. After all, she must know who got her pregnant. But I can tell you for certain that she deceived my father about all this. I mean my supposed father, Farlan Ross …’ Mr Ross’s stern expression left no doubt about the anger he harboured towards his mother.

‘And now you want us to help you find your biological father.’

‘Exactly.’

‘I assume you don’t know of any family or friends from that time who might know something?’

Mr Ross shook his head. ‘Unfortunately not. All the relatives from my mother’s generation have passed away. And I’m not aware of any friendships that go back that far.’

‘Okay. We’ll need to investigate your mother’s life during the time leading up to her pregnancy. To do that, we’ll need copies of any documents from the year before you were born, as well as a list of people your mother was in contact with … friends, relatives, acquaintances. Can you think of anything else, Finola?’

‘Did your mother work before you were born?’ Finola asked.

‘She was a nurse.’

‘In that case, we’ll need details about that, too. Which hospital? Do you know the names of any of the supervisors, doctors or other nurses? Maybe from stories she told you?’

‘Not really. She always avoided talking about the time before I was born, claiming that her life had only properly started with me.’

‘That’s rather unusual, but I guess some mothers do see it that way,’ Finola commented.

Kieran Ross gave a slight shrug. ‘She was quite protective, even more so with me than with my younger brother. I guess because she had waited so long for me.’

Finola nodded, keeping her lips pressed together.

What was the matter with her? Had the conversation about mothers upset her? Anne was aware that Finola’s relationship with her mother was strained, and that they hadn’t had any meaningful contact for years. But she had never delved any further into it. If Finola wanted to share something, she would do so in her own time.

Kieran pulled a thick envelope from his briefcase. ‘I’ve got copies of my birth certificate and a few documents from my early childhood,’ he said. ‘There are also some baby snaps, but not much from my first year … forty-seven years ago, people weren’t constantly taking photos. At least not in my family. But maybe there are some clues there.’

Anne signalled to Finola, who accepted the envelope.

‘The way we take photos and videos has indeed changed dramatically.’ Anne smiled politely. ‘Ms MacTavish will review your documents and see if there are any leads she can pursue.’

‘I’ll email you the lists of names tomorrow,’ promised Kieran as he drank his tea. ‘Just off the top of my head, I recall that when I was little, we occasionally had visits from a woman called Elsie. Apparently, she was a friend of my mother’s. She had a son about my age. Now, what was his name? No idea. All I remember is that he had a prominent birthmark on his knee and wouldn’t let me play with his train set.’

‘Maybe it’ll come back to you. Do get in touch if so.’

‘I might also try to locate my mum’s old address book, as well as the letters and stuff she put away. She used to have a box filled with cherished mementoes. She kept the first locks of hair and baby teeth from my brother and me in there, that kind of thing.’

‘Excellent idea,’ Anne commended. ‘That will definitely help us. Finola?’

Finola had extracted the documents from the envelope and was studying them with a look of deep concentration on her face.

‘You were born in Glasgow,’ she remarked. ‘Did you live there as a child, too?’

‘Among other places. It seems that when I was a baby, we lived in Auchenmully for a while … a small hamlet near the Clyde. I don’t remember it, but my dad sometimes told us stories about our time there. So, I looked it up. On the map, it looks like it’s no more than half an hour’s drive from Glasgow.’

‘And your mother is currently in a care home in Glasgow?’ Finola continued.

‘Yes. I had hoped to bring her here to Edinburgh to save me the lengthy drive back and forth, but she refuses to even consider it. She’s still mentally astute enough to firmly insist on living in Glasgow, where she feels safe.’

‘Feels safe?’ probed Anne. ‘What is she afraid of?’

‘Who knows … new things, strange things? My mother isn’t good with change. She struggled with my brother and me growing up. And now, with her declining mind …’ He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. ‘My brother lives in East Kilbride, so he doesn’t have to travel far to see her, at least. Right. Well then …’

Mr Ross rose to his feet and Anne followed suit. Finola gave him a friendly nod but remained seated, continuing to study the documents while Anne escorted their client out. After handing him his jacket from the coat rack, Anne accompanied him to the door. Then she returned to her office.

‘What’s the matter, Finola?’ she asked. ‘Why all these questions about Glasgow? Are you not excited about the chance to work in the city you grew up in?’

Finola met her gaze. ‘I wouldn’t say I grew up there. We lived on Harris during my childhood, so I was thirteen when I came to Glasgow. My father had just passed away and … It was a challenging time.’

Anne sat beside her again and refilled their cups of tea, choosing not to delve deeper.

‘But more importantly,’ Finola continued, taking a deep breath, ‘Kieran Ross isn’t the only one with a mother living in Glasgow.’

Chapter 2

‘You’re leaving Edinburgh again?’ Laurie pulled a face. ‘It’s only been just over a week since you returned from Aviemore. Are there no cases here? What’s this one about, anyway?’

Before sitting down with her friend, she glanced over to make sure the customers at the other two tables in her small café were happy.

‘It’s not like I have much choice. It’s my job. And it’s taking me to Glasgow this time.’ Finola sighed.

Laurie shook her head. ‘Still, I don’t understand why you’re putting on such a gloomy face at the mention of Glasgow. It’s a fabulous city. So vibrant and brimming with energy. If you’re there for a while, I’d love to visit you one weekend. We could hit up a club together. What do you reckon?’

‘It’s not the city itself. Just some stupid memories,’ replied Finola.

Laurie studied her more closely. She knew Finola had spent many years in Glasgow before moving to the Isle of Skye a few years ago, and then to Edinburgh in late summer, but her friend had never gone into detail about it.

From a few fleeting remarks, Laurie had only managed to piece together that Finola still hadn’t forgiven her mother, Erin, for forcing her to leave the Isle of Harris and move to the city after her father’s death. As a teenager, Finola had apparently been quite rebellious … once, she’d shown Laurie a photo of herself dressed all in black with a full face of Goth make-up, glaring sullenly at the camera. Now, Finola could laugh about some of the ways she had provoked her mother, but her teenage years must have been difficult.

And then there was Robbie, Finola’s boyfriend who’d cheated on her.

Laurie gently rested her hand on Finola’s. ‘Well, while I’m with you, the memories we make will all be happy ones. I promise!’ She grinned.

‘I’m sure that’s true.’ Finola was smiling again. ‘What would your boyfriend Evan think about you hitting the clubs with me?’

‘No idea … but whatever he has to say, I don’t have to listen.’

Finola savoured a few sips of her latte. ‘Well, I’ll definitely still be here this weekend. First, there’s a mountain of paperwork I need to study to get some idea of where to even begin. Thankfully, it’s not a priority one case.’

‘Priority one?’

‘Life-threatening … urgent and immediate action required.’

‘So, nobody’s been kidnapped or anything.’

‘Apart from the fact that such a case would be more a matter for the police, no. It’s a simple person search.’

‘That’s reassuring. So, who are you looking for?’

‘Laurie … you know I can’t discuss ongoing cases.’

Laurie huffed a deep sigh. ‘But you don’t talk about closed ones either.’

Finola snickered. ‘Should I really go around telling people about the time you were suspected of—’

‘No, no, I get it.’

Finola pointed to the counter with its array of colourful cupcakes. ‘I think someone wants to settle their bill!’

Laurie sprang to her feet. ‘I’ll be right back.’

She took payment from the two elderly ladies who met at her place weekly to enjoy tea and sweet treats. They exchanged a few words about the weather … the sun had just emerged from behind the clouds … and Laurie wished them a pleasant day.

By the time she got back to Finola, her friend had already finished her coffee and appeared ready to leave.

‘I meant to ask you … I was wondering … Would you like to join me for Scottish country dancing again this Sunday? If you’re here at the weekend, that would work. It’s just a practice session in the afternoon, so things are a bit more relaxed, and there’s no live band. But we’re already rehearsing the dances for Burns Night.’

‘Is there something special about this one?’ Finola enquired.

‘There is, yes. They’re holding an international conference at the university sometime around the twenty-fifth of January, and the organising team is planning to host a Burns Supper for the guests, followed by a small ceilidh. We’ve been invited to help the esteemed ladies and gentlemen of science dance and celebrate.’

‘That doesn’t sound too bad at all! And I did have a lot of fun with you all last time. There are some really wonderful people in your group.’

‘Well, in that case, I’ll count on you. Besides, a bit of dancing will provide a welcome distraction from your case files. How about we head to the pub with Evan and Scott afterwards?’

‘We’ll see. Scott isn’t exactly my favourite company.’

‘That’s a shame. He thinks you’re amazing!’

Finola rolled her eyes, and Laurie chuckled in response.

Chapter 3

Retrieving her laptop from the floor and opening it was proving to be quite an arduous task. In the early hours of the morning, Olga had made herself comfortable on Finola’s chest and was reluctant to move to her legs when asked.

‘I’m sorry, my love. I have to work. Or at least check if there’s any work to do.’

Olga accepted her fate and curled up in her new position.

The laptop booted up, and sure enough, Finola discovered an email from Kieran Ross waiting in her inbox. She skimmed the text, filled with the usual niceties that added little in the way of fresh information and proceeded to download the attachments. Her new client had supplied multiple lists of names, adding annotations whenever he remembered someone or recognised them from stories.

The idea of using his mother’s old address book, which he had managed to find and copy for Finola, proved less helpful than she’d hoped. Cristine Ross … or Crissy, as she called herself on the first page … had listed almost all her contacts using just their first names and phone numbers. There was Ally, Annie, Clare, Roger, Ruth and Steve. But the Elsie that Kieran had mentioned wasn’t among them.

One exception was a Dr Browne, who, intriguingly, was filed under M. Perhaps Finola could track him down? It was a Glasgow area code. He might have been the family doctor or perhaps worked at the hospital where Crissy Ross had been employed before she got pregnant. In the best-case scenario, he could well be Kieran’s father.

The many rumours Finola had heard suggested that relationships between doctors and nurses were quite common. She reopened the list of locations where Crissy Ross had lived and worked. If there had indeed been an affair, that might also explain why the Ross family relocated from Glasgow to Auchenmully six months before Kieran’s birth. Crissy might have been trying to conceal her condition from her lover.

It all fitted, including the reason behind her prolonged inability to conceive. Maybe it hadn’t been her fertility problem but rather her husband’s, and she had finally found an alternative way to guarantee she would have children. However, Kieran Ross had a brother who was two years younger. Was Farlan Ross not the father of Kieran’s sibling, either?

Kieran himself was born at Glasgow Royal Maternity Hospital, even though the family was already living in Auchenmully by then. However, as the map showed, there was no hospital in the village they had moved to. So, women likely had to travel to Glasgow to give birth.

What was interesting about this choice of hospital was that Crissy Ross, according to one of her son’s lists, had worked there … though not in the year leading up to her pregnancy, when she had transferred to the Royal Infirmary. Or was there actually no significance in that? Perhaps she chose the Royal Maternity Hospital simply because she believed in the high standards of its maternity services.

What a pity it had all happened such a long time ago. After nearly fifty years, it was unlikely there would be any HR records left to consult, even if she did somehow manage to gain access to them. And tracking down someone who knew Nurse Crissy back then would undoubtedly prove challenging.

Older colleagues might well have passed away, so a younger nurse might be the only option left to Finola. Perhaps a student nurse? Crissy was eighty-three now. However, even someone aged eighteen or nineteen at the time would now be enjoying their retirement. It would certainly not be easy. But not impossible.

The vacuum cleaner roared outside Finola’s door. Mrs B had begun her rounds. It was time to get up.

Finola pushed her laptop aside and gently extracted one leg from beneath Olga, followed by the other. The cat blinked lazily, remaining otherwise undisturbed. She was probably relieved to be safe in Finola’s room, away from Mrs B and the loud creature making so much noise.

‘Good morning, lass,’ Anne’s housekeeper greeted Finola as she stepped into the hall.

‘Good morning, Mrs B,’ Finola replied with a smile. ‘Aren’t you a little early this morning?’

‘Not at all … it’s already light!’

‘True.’

‘Now that winter is here and we only have about eight hours of daylight, I have to make the most of it. So, chop chop, into the bathroom with you, so that I can get on with cleaning it when you’re done!’

Finola hurried. While she cleaned and tidied her own room, she appreciated that the bathroom fell under Mrs B’s remit. Besides, the cleaner seemed to take great pleasure in her work, frequently singing out loud with considerable enthusiasm. She probably enjoyed all the socialising and the many tea breaks in different houses. In her seventies now, Mrs B had scaled back her client list a few years ago, but still remained loyal to her favourite families. Perhaps one of Crissy’s nursing colleagues would be similarly active?

Half an hour later, Finola was sitting in the kitchen, digging into her porridge, when Mrs B joined her for one of those treasured tea breaks.

‘My Geordie sends his regards,’ she said, flicking on the kettle. ‘He’s back to poring over plant catalogues for Anne’s garden. Reckons brighter days are just around the corner, mark his words. I’ll believe it when I see it!’

‘He might be onto something. I have a feeling the sun will show its face any day now.’

‘Och, you know full well I meant more than a bit of sunshine. Anyway, are you all right? I didn’t see you at all when I was here on Monday.’

‘No, I had to leave early. I needed to pick up a few things.’

‘There was me thinking you had another exciting case. As far as I can tell, the detective agency seems to be thriving at the moment.’

Finola nodded. Nothing slipped past Mrs B, and she wasn’t shy about sharing it. That was precisely why Finola exercised great caution when it came to details about her private life.

Mrs B poured herself some tea and enquired, ‘What are your plans for the weekend?’

‘I’m going to go Scottish country dancing with my friend Laurie.’

‘Oh, how delightful! Geordie and I used to love that. There was always a ceilidh at the Assembly Rooms; it was wonderfully festive, especially at Hogmanay. It always brought us good luck to welcome the New Year with dancing. Maybe we ought to get back into it.’

Mrs B tipped a generous spoonful of sugar into her tea, added a splash of milk and stirred it thoroughly before taking a sip. Looking distinctly content, she set the mug down.

‘Amanda and Craig Erskine … you’re familiar with them from that business involving Amanda’s uncle, aren’t you? Well, I also help with their housekeeping, and I know they go dancing too. Although Amanda has been out of action for a while with her foot injury. Still, I’m sure some of the other young ladies were more than happy to take a turn dancing with Craig Erskine. Being as handsome as he is. And so charming, too.’ She beamed as though she had experienced that very pleasure herself.

‘Most likely.’