The Low Road by Alex Walters

Author:Alex Walters [Walters, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The weather was bound to break soon, Craig Fairlie thought. In these parts, any extended stretch of decent weather felt unnatural. Fairlie was sure there must have been previous warm summers, but he couldn’t recall any that had been sustained as long as this one.

Not that Fairlie cared too much. He was divorced, his ex-wife and kids now down south, and not currently in a relationship. He spent most of his time sitting in the gloom of Ally’s bar with no real idea what the weather outside might be doing. He wasn’t one for beaches or, really, for holidays of any kind. If it had rained solidly all summer, he wouldn’t have noticed.

But it made a difference on a day like today when he was yet again heading up the coast to Caithness. Driving up the A9 was a pleasure in the warm afternoon sunshine, a pleasant change from the times he’d struggled up here in the rain, mist or snow. The road was narrow and winding, potentially treacherous in poor conditions, but today an enjoyable, picturesque drive.

Even so, he’d have preferred to have stayed up here after yesterday’s meeting with Iain Pennycook, rather than making the journey twice. Pennycook had been keen for Fairlie to join them at a larger evening meeting back in town. There’d probably still have been time for Fairlie to make it back for the meeting, but he hadn’t wanted to give Pennycook any reason to suspect his actions or intentions.

From Fairlie’s point of view, the second meeting had been a waste of time. It had demonstrated Pennycook’s ability to work a room and a larger crowd than the one he’d faced in the afternoon. But it had essentially been more of the same, and the final question and answer session was even more anodyne than the earlier one.

It hadn’t taken long for Fairlie to track down an A. Clark living in the village they’d visited the previous day. Whoever he was, Clark was making no effort to conceal his identity. He was on the electoral roll and his details were available through online directory enquiries.

There was no guarantee Clark would be prepared to speak to Fairlie, or indeed that he had anything of value to say, but it was worth a shot. Fairlie assumed Alasdair Clark was a relative of Kevin, but the man had looked too old to be one of the brothers.

Fairlie turned off the A9 and followed the road into the village. He passed the community hall where they’d held the previous day’s meeting. There wasn’t much more to the village, not even a convenience store or pub. Fairlie turned right onto a single-track road. The house he was looking for was on the left, a small bungalow close to the road. He found it without difficulty, although there was barely enough space for him to park his car by the gate. There was no other vehicle visible. This wasn’t a place accustomed to receiving guests.

The bungalow didn’t exactly look neglected, but it didn’t appear to have received much recent maintenance.

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