Remember Me 1 by Ian C P Irvine

Author:Ian C P Irvine [Irvine, Ian C P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Detective McKenzie? Would you like another cup of tea?” the voice of Mrs Duff caught him off-guard, dragging him back from his spiralling dark thoughts.

“Yes, please. That would nice,” McKenzie replied through the door.

Then he took a deep breath, switched on the light in the dimly lit room, and got to work.

-----------------------------

Ronald Blake’s Den

Duddingston

Saturday

16.30

An hour later, McKenzie left the office, carrying a small box full of a few items he wanted to examine back at the portacabin.

Mrs Blake was back in the front room, sitting on a seat closer to the window, staring out towards the distant view of the sea and the other side of the Firth of Forth.

“Thank you,” McKenzie said, interrupting her thoughts, whatever they were.

“Ah, Detective… ” she smiled meekly, turning slowly towards him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you, and Mrs Duff had to go home to cook dinner for her husband.” She paused. “Did you find what you needed? What you came for?”

“Not really,” McKenzie replied. “But if it’s alright with you, I have a few things here that I would like to take away and look at later. I promise that they will be returned to you as soon as possible.”

She nodded.

“One of them is a phone, which I found on his desk. It’s password protected. May I take it? And would you perhaps know what the password might be?”

“His phone? Oh, I forgot about that. I’ll have to cancel the contract now, won’t I?”

She began to cry.

McKenzie fought the urge to step forward, place an arm around her shoulder and cuddle her.

“Yes. I’m afraid you may have to do that, if you don’t want to keep the phone for your own use. But if it’s okay, I would like to have a look at the contacts he’s had recently, which means I need to let one of our specialists look at it once we can get through the password.”

“My birthday. 8th August. 0808. Try that.”

“I’ve made a list of everything, could you please just give me your signature on this form?” McKenzie asked, stepping a little closer and offering her a pen.

She nodded, took the pen, and with McKenzie’s help, she made her mark on the blue paper covered in legal gibberish which was proffered to her.

“Mrs Blake, I was wondering, this photograph was on one of his shelves amidst his collection of books. Its three men, one of whom is David Weir. Do you know who the other one is?”

McKenzie picked a gold-framed colour photograph out of the box and extended it out towards Mrs Blake so that the light from the window could reveal the figures on it.

Three men. Holding fishing rods and cans of beer in their hands.

Smiling.

Two now dead.

Who was the other?

“Mark. Mark McRae. Sorry, I’d forgotten completely about him, Detective.”

“Who is he? Can you tell me anything more about him?” McKenzie asked, studying her eyes as she replied.

“He was another teacher. Yes, that’s it. Another teacher from his time at Portobello High School. For a while they were good friends.

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