“If it’s any consolation,” she said a second later, “I don’t think you’re a killer. But I do think that like me, though for different reasons, you are looking for the killer. I also bet you will have known the killer when they’re exposed. There’s something wonky about that building and the medical school. I think you’re more exposed to what’s going on than you’re telling me.”
“Bridget.”
“Okay, okay, let me rephrase. I think you’re more exposed than you even realize. If you’re friends with them, I bet you’ve seen things that you haven’t put together yet.”
“I don’t know,” I said as I thought about the gray-haired man. I wasn’t going to tell her about him. She and I would never be that good of friends.
My motives for talking to her and being more forthcoming were twofold. I wanted her to let up on Edwin and keep him out of any of her future stories, and I’d thought about asking her to explore old newspaper articles with me. But I changed my mind as I talked to her. No matter that we weren’t going to forge a friendship, she would always be writing a story, and I didn’t want to unknowingly contribute something that might hurt someone I cared about—or myself, frankly. I’d given her enough.
“All right, I’ll talk tae the officers. Ring me if you’ve anything else tae share. Thank you for the information about the bone. And, if I were you, I’d watch my back, Delaney.”
She sent me some lifted eyebrows and then turned and walked toward Inspector Pierce. She tapped his shoulder, and he looked at her with nothing but irritation.
She hadn’t scared me by telling me to watch my back, but she had a point.
It was impossible to ignore how many strange and horrible things seemed to be happening so close to home.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“Interesting perspective,” Tom said as he handed Elias a cup of coffee. It had to be his first of the morning, since I’d asked him to give me a ride so early. “She might be right, but I don’t think you should let that scare you.”
“No, lass, she’s oot for a story. Ye cannae let her scare ye,” Elias said as he rested his arms on the bar. “But ye should be careful. Aye an on.”
I looked at him. I didn’t know what “aye an on” meant.
“Always,” Elias translated. He’d come with me this morning, driving me back to Grassmarket. I hadn’t seen Tom in person for too long, and morning coffee at his pub seemed to be the only currently available option. When he heard Elias was driving me, he invited him for coffee too. I’d waited until we were all together to tell them both everything I’d found out and discovered. They’d shown some interest, and some great restraint, as I shared my foray into Dr. Eban’s email and the fact that Sophie and Rena thought Mallory was having an affair with Dr. Glenn. Not only had their eyes shown unbelievable a time or two, they’d said it a few times. I’d saved Bridget’s words of warnings for last.
“Of course—and I’m not worried.” I looked back and forth between them.
Telling them what Bridget had said might have been a bad idea, because it had gotten them thinking about my safety. But I really wasn’t worried. I did think her more important point though was about the killer being someone I’d met.
I continued, “No, I’m not worried. I just want to figure it out.”
“Aye,” they both said, but I caught the quickly raised eyebrows they shared with each other. They would rather I didn’t continue to search for an answer to Mallory’s murder, but I appreciated them keeping their protests limited to their eyebrows.
“I don’t think Rena is telling the truth—to anyone—about what happened the night Mallory was killed,” I said. “It doesn’t matter what she’s told me, and even if she and Sophie told the police about Dr. Glenn and Mallory, I would still like to know what Rena was up to, and what that email meant. As Inspector Pierce was leaving the shop yesterday, I asked if he talked to Sophie and Rena. He said he did, so I asked if he believed the story about Mallory and Dr. Glenn. He gave me no indication either way.”
“It’s convenient to try to pin a murder on an already proven killer, one who might or might not have gray hair and be in the vicinity,” Tom said.
“Do you think Rena kil’t Mallory?” Elias asked.
“I hope not,” I said. “No idea, but what deal did she and Dr. Eban have … and a planned meeting that night? Strange.”
“And you havenae told the police about the email?” Elias said. “Och, of course, ye havenae.”
“I should not have read it, and I really shouldn’t have gotten Joshua involved.”
Tom smiled, surprising me. “No harm done, and that kid deserves a little fun. He’s worked hard for a long time.”
I smiled at him, grateful my pub owner wasn’t bothered by that bad decision.
He continued, “I don’t know either Sophie or Rena well, but they seem like sweet women, though they’ve had some tough times. Which one had a rough home life when they were a child?”
“Rena. Moved around a lot before her family landed in Glasgow,” I said. “She and Sophie met when they were young and became fast and, I believe, lifelong friends.”
“You ‘believe’?” Tom said.
“Too soon to tell.”
“Aye.” Tom’s smile turned wry.
I did a double take, not understanding how to interpret the expression. He looked away before I could ask.
“Do you think Dr. Eban saw the wee scalpels in the warehouse somehow?” Elias asked.
“I would have no idea how.”
“It’s been a decade. Maybe Edwin let people in and he just doesnae remember,” Elias said.
“Maybe, but I
