The Distant Echo Page 0,145

then I made myself disappear. I crossed the border into Mexico. Lynn, never go to Tijuana unless you have a cast-iron stomach. The food is the worst in the world, but what really gives the soul indigestion is the collision between the extravagant riches of America and the grinding poverty of those Mexicans. I was ashamed of my adopted countrymen and women. Do you know, the Mexicans even paint their donkeys in stripes, like zebras, so the tourists can have their pictures taken with them? That's how far we've driven them."

"Spare us the sermon, Weird. Cut to the chase," Lynn complained.

Weird grinned. "I'd forgotten quite how forthright you can be, Lynn. Well, I felt pretty uneasy after Mondo's funeral. So I hired a private eye in Seattle. I wanted to find out who sent that wreath to Ziggy's funeral. And he came back with an answer. An answer that gave me good reason to come back here. Plus, I figured this was the last place that anybody looking for me would expect to find me. Way too near to home."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You really have learned a few theatrical tricks over the years, haven't you? Are you going to tell us what you found out?"

"The man who sent the wreath lives right here in Fife. St. Monans, to be precise. I don't know who he is, or how he's connected to Rosie Duff. But his name is Graham Macfadyen."

Alex and Lynn exchanged a look of anxiety. "We know who he is," Alex said. "Or we can at least make an educated guess."

Now it was Weird's turn to look puzzled and frustrated. "You do? How?"

"He's Rosie Duff's son," Lynn said.

Weird's eyes widened. "She had a son?"

"Nobody knew about him at the time. He was adopted at birth. He must have been three or four when she died," Alex said.

"Oh my," Weird said. "Well, that makes sense, doesn't it? I take it he only found out about his mother's murder recently?"

"He went to see Lawson when the cold case review was launched. He'd only started trying to trace his birth mother a few months before that."

"There's your motive, if he thought you four were responsible for her murder," Lynn said. "We need to find out more about this Macfadyen."

"We need to find out if he was in the States the week Ziggy died," Alex said.

"How do we do that?" Lynn said.

Weird raised a hand. "Atlanta is Delta's hub. One of my flock has a pretty senior position there. I'd guess he can maybe get hold of passenger manifests. The airlines swap information like that all the time, apparently. And I have Macfadyen's credit-card details, which might speed things up. I'll call him later, if I may?"

"Of course," Alex said. Then he cocked his head. "Is that Davina I can hear?" He headed for the door. "I'll bring her through."

"Well done, Weird," Lynn said. "I'd never have put you down for the methodical researcher."

"You forget, I was a mathematician and a damn good one. All the other stuff, that was just a desperate bid not to be my father. Which, thank the Lord, I managed to avoid."

Alex returned, Davina whimpering in his arms. "I think she needs to be fed."

Weird stood up and peered down at the tiny bundle. "Oh my," he said, his voice soft as milk. "She is a beauty." He looked up at Alex. "Now you understand why I'm so determined to come out of this alive."

Out under the bridge, Macfadyen stared down at the scene below. It had been an eventful evening. First, the woman had turned up. He'd seen her at the funeral, watched the widow Kerr leave in her car. He'd followed them to a flat in the Merchant City, then, a couple of days later, he'd followed Gilbey to the same flat. He wondered what her connection was, where she fit into the complex pattern. Was she just a friend of the family? Or was she more than that?

Whatever she was, she hadn't been made welcome. She and Gilbey had gone to the pub, but they'd barely been there long enough to have a single drink. Then, when Gilbey had gone back to the house, the real surprise had walked in. Mackie was back. He should have been safely ensconced in Georgia, ministering to his flock. But here he was, in Fife again, and in the company of his co-conspirator. You didn't walk away from your life unless you had good reason.

It was proof. You

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