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.‘Our man was doing his research.Shit!’ He slammed the drawer shut from frustration.Something on top of the cabinet fluttered, catching Knox’s eye.‘No he didn’t,’ he said, grabbing the thin sheet of card.‘He just wrote down the details and didn’t replace it.’The record was in the form of an index card, and stated Diana Fitzgibbon’s name, age and address, along with the names and address of the couple who had adopted the 7lb 4oz boy born on 3rd July 1963.The baby hadn’t gone far.The couple who’d adopted him, Fiona and Angus McCrae, lived at Keepers Cottage, Wicktown.But without local knowledge Keepers Cottage proved too vague an address to locate and after an hour’s of driving around country lanes they were forced back to the police station.‘We have names and an address,’ Coleman told Tyrell.‘Fiona and Angus McCrae, at Keepers Lodge.’‘Well, you’ll not find either of them there,’ the Sergeant shook his head.‘Keepers Cottage hasn’t been inhabited for years.The only reason we get called out there is if there are kids vandalising the place, and even that’s not happened for months.’‘Is there anyone who might know what’s happened to the McCraes?’‘Give me a minute, will you?’ Tyrell lifted the phone.‘Hello, Jim, I need your help with something.’ Explaining the situation to the person at the other end, he ended with the traditional pleasantries before hanging up.‘Jim Paterson will talk to you,’ he told Coleman and Knox.‘He was the Sergeant here until a couple of years ago.He remembers them.His house is just up the main street there, number fourteen.’Jim Paterson’s neat bungalow was on the edge of the village.He was awaiting them and already had the kettle on.‘Angus McCrae died back in 1978, and Fiona passed away from St Hilda’s rest home last spring,’ he told them, as they sipped tea around a tiny kitchen table.‘She hadn’t lived at Keepers Cottage for years.It wasn’t fit for human habitation anyway, the place was an anachronism.’‘We’re actually looking for their son,’ Coleman said.‘Which one?’Good question.Knox looked over at the gaffer.They hadn’t considered that there might be more than one, and had absolutely nothing to offer in the way of description.‘We don’t know,’ said Coleman lamely.‘He was adopted.’‘They both were, but I’d guess it’s Kenneth you’re after.Clive still lives over in Dunnoch, but I’ve no idea what happened to Kenneth.He was a troubled boy, but then they were a very unusual family.’‘In what way?’‘Angus and Fiona were devout Calvinist Christians.The family kept to themselves and the children were educated at home and expected to help their father on the land.The father was a gamekeeper on the estate, when it still was an estate.Ten years ago the land was sold to the Forestry Commission and the big house converted to a country hotel and golf course.The boys’ education seemed to consist of pest control, trapping vermin and repairing damage to fences and dry-stone walls.They didn’t attend the local school and you never saw them riding bikes or hanging around like the other kids.On the rare occasions when they did come into the town it was always with their parents and they never looked happy.Often they were poorly clothed for the weather up here, and my wife used to say the whole family looked in need of a good dinner.’‘You think the children were neglected?’‘By modern standards, I’m pretty sure they were.These days Social Services would have been in and taken them away.I’ve an idea their mother was subjected to regular beatings too, but we’d no proof, and no one could ever get near enough to talk to her.People knew what was going on, but back then nobody discussed that kind of thing.Angus died in a shooting accident when Kenneth was about fifteen.’‘What happened?’‘The two of them were out on the moors and Angus was shot in the thigh.Kenneth came to get help but he got lost and it was almost dark before he got back to the village.Then we had to go out and find Angus.By the time we got there he’d bled to death.He must have died in agony.’‘It was definitely an accident?’ Knox asked, thinking about the man they were pursuing.‘The coroner recorded a verdict of accidental death.The gun could have backfired.Who was to say that it didn’t?’ But his words lacked a certain conviction.‘Have you any idea where Kenneth is now?’Paterson shook his head.‘He signed up for the army as soon as he was old enough and I haven’t seen him since, though I heard rumour a few years ago that he was back in the area.His brother might know.’Clive McCrae still worked the land.His wife Moira took them through the spotless kitchen of their grey, pebble-dashed council semi and into the long garden, where, in the drizzle, McCrae was doing the winter work on an immaculately laid out vegetable patch, breaking up the hard frozen soil with a fork.He didn’t give them an ecstatic welcome, but stopped what he was doing to speak to them.Knox let Coleman do the talking [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]