Samuel pulled out his phone. “I’m going to show you a video. Hopefully watching it will jar your memory.”
Opening the video on his phone, he held it so that Walsh could get a clear view. Walsh watched intently, flinching when he saw himself fall into Isabel’s arms. The entire video lasted less than a minute, and after it ended he asked Samuel to play it again. At the spot where the assailant rounded the corner and Isabel shot him, he asked Samuel to pause the action. This time he sat forward and studied the screen.
“That’s not him,” he stated.
“What do you mean it’s not him?” Nick asked.
“That’s not the man I was fighting. I remember now. The man I took down had red hair. It was the color you don’t often see, and I guess that’s why it stuck in my mind. This is some other guy.”
“And you’ve never seen this man before?” Samuel asked.
“No.”
“Was there anyone else around when you first saw the man going after Grace?”
“I don’t think so. He seemed to just step out of the shadows. Maybe there was an alley. I don’t recall.”
Samuel turned to Nick and Noah. “Isabel said she saw a redheaded man at a distance. None of the witnesses saw him, so I was certain she just imagined him, or he was a bystander who didn’t want to get involved. I should have dug deeper.”
“So the man Isabel shot was not the man Walsh took down,” Noah said.
“Apparently not,” Samuel admitted. “There were two coming for her.”
Nick’s reaction to the news was a mixture of anger and worry. “And that means one is still out there.”
•••
As soon as they walked out of Walsh’s room, Samuel headed back to his office to begin the hunt for the second man. Nick turned to Noah. “We need to talk to Gladstone.”
They went into an empty waiting room, and Noah shut the door for privacy. It didn’t take long for Nick to get Gladstone’s office and home numbers. Checking his watch, he calculated it was late afternoon in Scotland, and he made a call to the solicitor’s office.
A woman with a thick brogue answered. “Mr. Gladstone is just finishing up with a client. Would you like to wait on the line, or may he call you back?”
Nick wasn’t in the mood to be patient. “This is Special Agent Nick Buchanan, FBI. It’s important I speak to Mr. Gladstone now.”
“Oh,” the woman said, as though startled by the authority in his voice. “I’ll just put you through.”
A few seconds later Gladstone was on the line. Nick introduced himself and then Noah.
“We have you on speaker,” he explained.
“Two FBI agents. What is this about?” Gladstone asked.
“Detective Craig Walsh,” Nick answered.
“What’s happened? Is Craig all right?”
“He will be,” Noah said. He then told him about the shooting and explained that Walsh had only just awakened. “His memory is still cloudy.”
“Walsh told us you sent him to talk to Grace MacKenna,” Nick said. “Is that right? And if so, why?”
“Yes. I didn’t expect there would be any danger for him there in Boston... I shouldn’t have asked him...”
They could tell Gladstone was rattled and gave him a moment to calm down. Then Noah repeated his question.
“I was concerned about her coming here and wanted my friend... Detective Walsh... to talk to her face-to-face and impress upon her the need to be on guard. I didn’t want her to come up here alone.” He added, “It might not be safe.”
“In what way?”
“I haven’t lived here long, and it takes time to build trust with your neighbors. The people around here tend to keep to themselves and are hesitant to talk to outsiders. One night I received a call from a man who wouldn’t give me his name, but he said he was concerned. He told me he was in a pub late one night and heard three men talking about Grace MacKenna. One of them said that she was an interloper, and that no one wanted her here. The man on the phone said he was worried for her safety and that I should tell her not to come. It could be dangerous. I asked him why he called me, and he told me he knew I was handling the MacKenna estate. He also knew I was taking over for another solicitor and wanted to move to another building. He knew he could trust me because he had heard from several others that I was nothing like MacCarthy and that I was honorable and would look out for Miss MacKenna. He disconnected the call before I could ask him more questions.
“I had spoken to Grace about making arrangements for her to come to Scotland and she told me she was heading to Boston and would be there for a week. Then I got the anonymous call. I couldn’t reach her so I called my friend, and he tracked her down. I feel terrible that I’ve caused him all this trouble. And I hope Miss MacKenna got the message and isn’t planning to come to Scotland just yet.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late. She’s already there.”
“Oh no. Grace will be walking in blind. No one up here is going to tell her anything. I doubt they’ll even talk to her.”