Still, it was important information now. Maybe. Dr. Glenn’s relationship with both Dr. Eban and Dr. Carson, and maybe even with Mallory’s father—away from the university—must be somehow important.
I searched online for any sort of written information regarding a connection between Dr. Glenn, Boris Clacher, Dr. Eban, and Dr. Carson. There were connections, though not as many involving Dr. Glenn as the others. Most were because of the medical school and the sorts of things and events that medical school people attended. I couldn’t find much of anything, and I wished I got along better with Bridget. Not everything was online, and old newspapers were a good source. I’d have to check with Artair.
“I’m going to call Inspector Winters,” I said absently.
“Tae tell him aboot what I might have seen?”
“Yes. In fact, I’m going to see if he can stop by and talk to us. That okay?”
“Certainly.”
* * *
It was rare that Inspector Winters didn’t spend at least a moment wondering where I was going with something I wanted to tell him. Or questioning its importance. As a police officer, he was supposed to doubt and question. I didn’t take it personally.
However, this time he was all ears, and focused eyes.
“You saw them together?” he said to Rosie.
“No, I saw her go inside when I knew he was there too and his wife wasnae. I saw it more than one time, which makes me sound nosy. Meebe I am a wee bit, but I remember thinking it was odd and then not wanting tae know more. None of my business.”
“More than a few times, though?” Inspector Winters said.
“Aye. Many, many times.”
I confessed my visit to the Anatomical Theatre with Elias. He hadn’t heard anything about Conn’s behavior or about the two of us being there, but he did mention that I should be telling all of this to Inspector Pierce, and that I should also show him the emails from Dr. Eban.
I didn’t disagree, but I didn’t make any sort of quick move to give the other inspector a call.
I did show Inspector Winters the emails from Dr. Eban. His interpretation was different from mine. He thought that if I was going to intrude on a class, I might need to expect some questions regarding that intrusion. However, he did think everything had the potential to be pertinent to the murder until it proved not to be.
After I felt like we’d told him everything we could and he said he’d find Pierce, I walked him to the door.
“What’s so interesting about all of this?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, lass,” he said with a rare friendly smile. “But it might prove tae be helpful. I’ll talk tae Inspector Pierce, but no guarantee that he won’t want tae talk tae you too.”
“I understand. I would have called him if…”
“If you thought you were onto something important.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“No. I’m happy tae have been a sounding board, but, yes, don’t hesitate tae tell Pierce everything.”
“Will do. Thank you.”
“You know, this is a great bookshop,” Inspector Winters said as he hesitated leaving.
“I do know.”
“Maybe stick around here and do some work for a wee bit?”
He was still smiling, so I smiled back. “I’ll give it a try.”
He hurried away up Grassmarket Square. I didn’t see his vehicle, and I wondered if he’d parked around a corner or if he’d walked the whole way from the bottom of the Royal Mile.
As I was looking out the window, and just after I lost sight of Inspector Winters, I caught sight of someone else, and he was headed this direction.
“What is it?” Rosie said as she moved next to me. “Ye made a curious noise.”
“That’s Mallory’s father, and I think he’s coming here.” I knew what he looked like mostly because we’d just been looking at pictures of him and his colleagues.
“Aye? Weel, I’ll get some coffee. He’ll likely be here tae see either you or Edwin. I’ll ring Edwin and let him know.”
Rosie handed Hector to me and took off for the dark side.
I watched as Boris Clacher, his eyes still wide with grief, looked up and saw me at the window.
There was no mistaking the nod and the small lifting of fingers in a wave. He was coming here.
Hector and I met him at the door.
TWENTY-NINE
“Thank you,” he said to Rosie as he took the steaming mug and then sipped from it. “That’s very good.”
“Ye’re welcome. Are ye hungry?”
“No, not at all, thank you.”
From the second he’d walked inside, Boris Clacher had been sweet and polite. Did he have to work to not live up to the harsh consonants in his name and his intimidating height and wide shoulders?
“Delaney Nichols?” he’d said as he came in. He’d petted Hector and smiled sadly.
“That’s me.”
“Pleasure tae meet you, lass. I wonder if you have a minute of time I could steal from you?”
I’d directed him to the chairs we’d left at the front desk just as Rosie had crossed over from the dark side, carrying mugs of coffee. I introduced everyone.
“Lad, I’ve seen you around the university,” Boris said to Hamlet.
“Aye, I’m a student.”
Boris surveyed him a long moment. “I remember. I saw one of your presentations, for a biology course, I believe. Your professor had high regard for your mind and wanted me tae encourage you tae consider medical school, but ye’re studying literature?”
“Aye.”
“I see. Think about it. Ye can still go tae medical school with a literature degree. Ye’ve studied much of the science, I know. It’s all hard work, mind, but there are some who are suited. I believe, based upon what I’ve heard, that you’re suited.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”
“We’re very sorry for your loss,” I said after I picked up a mug and he turned his attention back to me.
“Thank you.” He sniffed and seemed to hold his head higher as he fended off emotions. “I’ve come tae talk tae you a wee bit about my daughter. Is that all right?”
“Of course, but I didn’t know her well. I’d just
