Ness when Isobel died.”
“Is that a fact? And did ye meet the proprietress whilst ye were there?”
“Mrs. Dalrymple? I certainly did. Do you know her?”
“She’s my aunt.”
“No kidding? Well, it was your aunt who insisted I take the dirk.”
“Why was that?”
“Because, according to her, it has a rather checkered history, and she didn’t want it lying around her hotel, contaminating the air with bad karma.”
He grinned. “Aunt Morna was always one ta get yer blood pumping with her talk of spells and incantations. When I was a lad, I spent many happy days digging through the picture books in her library, scaring the bejeebers out of myself.” He leaned forward in his chair and dragged the dagger toward him. “So let’s have a look at this dirk.”
“Your aunt had a book that documented its entire provenance.”
He held it beneath the banker’s lamp on the desk, angling it right and left as he examined the scrawl beneath the hilt. “Hamish Maccoull?” His voice cracked like that of a fourteen-year-old entering puberty. “Are ye telling me this is the dirk that belonged ta the Hamish Maccoull?”
“That was your aunt’s opinion.”
“It’s been missing fer centuries!”
I shrugged. “Isobel Kronk found it in a hollow tree in Braemar.”
“This is incredible. The inscription is still perfectly legible.” He trailed a fingertip across the string of ancient words as he squinted to see them more clearly.
“You speak Gaelic?”
“I don’t speak it, but I can read it. Aunt Morna made sure of that.” He hesitated as he translated the words, his complexion losing some of its color. “Well.” He quickly set the dagger back on the desk, regarding it as if it had suddenly sprouted fangs and a rattler.
“I’m apparently descended from a long line of Maccoulls on my mother’s side, so Hamish’s dirk has some historical significance for our family.”
He inched the dagger across the desk with the tip of his forefinger. “So Isobel Kronk removed the dirk from its hiding place, and you later found her dead.”
“Yup.”
“And Dolly Pinker stole the dirk from another hiding place, and ye later found her dead.”
I sighed glumly. “Yup.”
“All right then.” He wrote something in his notebook before flipping it shut and slipping it into his shirt pocket. “Thank ye fer yer cooperation, Mrs. Miceli. I’ve no other questions at the moment, but I’d like ta speak with yer grandmother.”
“She’s out in the lobby.” I eyed him skeptically. “So … I can just leave?”
“Aye.”
“You’re not going to throw the book at me for absconding with possible evidence?”
“Not at all. In fact, it’s yers fer the taking.” He slid the dagger the rest of the way toward me.
“No kidding?”
“Departmental rule: a weapon not used in the commission of a crime is not evidence. Besides, I’m thinking that Ms. Pinker had no right ta take it from the outset, so I’m giving it back ta ye. But I’d suggest ye keep it away from the rest of the group this time.”
He circled the desk and swept his hand toward the door. “I’ll follow ye out, Mrs. Miceli.”
I stowed the dirk in my shoulder bag, gathered my belongings, and extended my hand to him as I stood up. “I appreciate your being so reasonable about the dirk, Officer Bean. Thank you again.”
He pumped my hand. “No worries.”
“I was really afraid you were going to lock it up in your evidence room at the police station.”
He laughed as we reached the door. “I couldn’t very well do that, could I?”
I gave him a questioning look. “Why not?”
“Wouldn’t dare take the risk. I’ll not hae that thing anywhere near my department, Mrs. Miceli. Didn’t Aunt Morna translate the inscription fer ye? It’s cursed.”
The sound of angry voices beyond the door caused Bean to spring into high alert. With an apologetic grunt, he rushed past me, leaving me to follow hot on his heels as he maneuvered around the clerks at the front desk and charged into the lobby.
“Knocking off one of our team members wasn’t enough?” Cameron Dasher bellowed at the guests crowded into the room. “You decided you had to knock off two?”
Bill Gordon shot to his feet, face red and finger stabbing the air. “Just who the hell are you accusing of whacking your teammates, Dasher?”
“Someone in this room!” Cameron pulled a fierce face, his eyes shooting fire as he ranged a look at his tour companions. “You think I’m dumb enough to believe that two deaths on my team are pure coincidence? One of you is so afraid we’re going to win