Relatively Dead (24 page)

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Authors: Alan Cook

BOOK: Relatively Dead
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Jason IV, who had impressed me with his sharpness, tried to take it all in.

“This Kelly perpetrated a scam on your grandmother, partly because she was descended from Boyds. He must have known she had some money, also.”

“I was big news when I recovered my identity. The only living relative I knew about when I did was Grandma, so her name was in the news, also. I inherited money from my parents. Tom called Grandma’s house and talked to her. He discovered she had dementia, and that he could actually impersonate my dead brother, Michael, and she’d believe him. Anyway, he got ten thousand dollars from her before we stopped him. I’m sure it’s him, but I haven’t been able to come up with any proof admissible in court.”

“Let’s talk about the murder victims. Both young, both with the Boyd name.”

“Exactly. Although it gets strange here, because I don’t think Tom Kelly has ever been to Northern Ireland.”

“Putting that aside for the moment. Does that mean I’m next? And then young Timothy?”

It was best to get it on the table. “Timothy is the next generation of Boyds.”

“A frightening thought. I’m glad we’re here and not speaking in front of Sarah. But let me give you a different point of view.”

“Please do.”

“Timothy—my brother—lived near Belfast, which is where Boyds have lived for many generations. He was a brilliant boy, but he didn’t like to apply himself. He attended University but dropped out. He must have had an interest in genealogy, because he discovered we had a cousin Jason living in Los Angeles. He started corresponding with him by email and by some kind of communications system through the Internet.”

“This is fascinating. Jason’s grandfather, also named Jason, told me he didn’t know about your branch of the family.”

“But Cousin Jason did. Curious that he didn’t tell his granddad. Timothy has always confided in me, and continued to do so even after I moved here to take this job. He looked up to me, as the older brother. Unfortunately, he never actually took my advice.”

“That must have been frustrating for you.”

“Yes. The reason I know Cousin Jason was killed is because I follow international news stories. It goes with my line of work. We deal with firms in California, so I’m particularly sensitive to what’s happening there. In addition, I had a special interest in Cousin Jason, because, you see, I’ve met him.”

I was shocked. “You’ve met him?”

“Yes. He came to Timothy’s funeral. I talked to him at length. Before I go on, I need to ask you something. Something I haven’t talked to with anyone, including my parents. If you don’t know, you deserve to know since you’ve been investigating and have come all the way to Edinburgh to warn me.”

“Sounds serious. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Did you know Cousin Jason was involved in something shady he called a syndicate?”

Another shock. “Yes. But how do you know about that?”

“Ah.” Jason allowed himself a mirthless smile. “I told you Timothy didn’t like to work. He was always coming up with get-rich-quick schemes. When he mentioned them to me, as the level-headed member of the family I regularly shot them down. This one he didn’t tell me about until after he was hooked. He had a way of gaining people’s trust. Cousin Jason must have sensed this, because he told Timothy about his idea for the syndicate, which, as I’m sure you know, is a classic Ponzi scheme. With Jason’s help, Timothy started an Irish version of it.”

I was sitting there with my mouth open. “There must be disgruntled investors in Belfast.”

“Of course there are, although as a member of the family I’m not anxious to drink a pint with any of them. Do you want to hear my theory?”

“Definitely.”

“I think one of these disgruntled investors, as you call them, may have killed Timothy, and then followed the trail to Cousin Jason and killed him too.”

“I was assured by Jason’s girlfriend that the syndicate was being closed down and everyone was going to get their money back.”

“Cousin Jason and Timothy were operating the Irish syndicate independently of anyone else in America, as nearly as I can tell. Jason’s girlfriend may not know about it. Let’s take this one step further. The syndicate started operating in Belfast more than a year ago.”

“I think it’s only been in operating Los Angeles for a little over six months.”

“It may have started on this side of the pond first. And been in business long enough for people to lose money and thus be disgruntled.”

This put a whole new light on things. “So the killer may be Irish?”

“Us Irish have been known to commit atrocities. Just look at the IRA.”

“You’re one up on me. I never met Cousin Jason. Did you talk to him about the syndicate when he was here?”

“I had a long talk with him. I told him what I knew. I must admit he was very calm about it. He denied it was a fraud. He said it was a legitimate investment opportunity and there was nothing wrong with it. He also said he couldn’t run it here without Timothy, and that it would be shut down. He assured me all investors would get their money back.”

“I know
that
song. Jason’s girlfriend told me the same thing about the American version. Have any disgruntled investors come out of the woodwork?”

“None. At least none I’m aware of. But they may be taking their private revenge.”

We talked about that for a while, with me trying to absorb the ramifications of Timothy and Jason III being involved in the syndicate together. Finally, I decided we’d better get back to the immediate threat.

“I don’t think we should discount Tom Kelly.”

“You’re right. We’ll talk more about him. But Sarah promised to make lunch for us, and if we don’t return soon she’ll think I’ve run off with my American cousin.”

Jason took out a cell phone and called Sarah, telling her we were on our way back to the flat.

CHAPTER 26

“Tom Kelly is our cousin.”

I announced this to Jason as I sat at the small table he and Sarah used for all meals. Jason was holding the gurgling Timothy in his lap while Sarah served us sandwiches and cheese. I’d just checked my email on their laptop computer.

“Oh?” Jason’s raised eyebrows requested more information.

“Frances, my friend who’s a forensic genealogist, received the DNA test results for him. He has the same Y or male DNA as Cousin Jason’s grandfather, who we also tested. All the male Boyds have this DNA, including you. Tom is probably descended from the first Jason, who was born in the nineteenth century. We’re all descended from him.”

“So my namesake sired a bastard. I’m not surprised. The Boyds always were a scurvy lot.”

Sarah frowned as she sat down with us. “That’s not true. If it were I never would have married you.” She put a hand on Jason’s arm and turned to me. “He’s been badmouthing his relatives ever since he found out his brother was involved in that syndicate.”

“Every family has its black sheep. Which, by the way, is an appropriate phrase here where we grow sheep by the carload.”

Sarah asked, “Who is this Tom Kelly, anyway?”

“Speaking of black sheep. Tom Kelly is someone Cynthia has created out of thin air who can now claim to be a Boyd. The question is, what are we going to do about old Tom, since he’s arriving here this afternoon? Cynthia, please explain to Sarah who Tom is.”

I gave her a quick synopsis, leaving out a few key points, such as my break-in of his house and conjecture about him being a murderer. I mentioned he probably wanted to meet Jason and Sarah. Jason, who as I was beginning to understand said pretty much whatever he thought, had apparently decided not to beat around the bush about Tom with Sarah.

“Cynthia thinks Tom may have a grudge against the Boyds. Although we’re almost certain he didn’t kill Timothy, he’s on Cynthia’s list of suspects for Cousin Jason in Los Angeles. Now don’t get upset, Sweets. We’re going to head him off at the pass, as they say in American westerns. I’ll meet him at the airport and try to find out what he’s up to.”

Sarah and I objected vehemently to this, Sarah because she was afraid for Jason, and I because if something happened to him I would feel responsible. After some heated arguments from Sarah who could be very loud for such a petite woman, I got the floor while Jason was trying to quiet crying Timothy, frightened by the noise. I’d had a quick change of heart.

“Actually, that’s not such a bad idea. He won’t be able to try anything at the airport. We know he won’t have a weapon on him because of the security checks he’ll have gone through. And I’ll be with you.”

“You?” Jason looked befuddled. “I don’t want to put you in danger. And as I understand it, he doesn’t even know you’re Cynthia.”

“Well actually, he does.” When I’d talked to Jason about Kelly I’d left out the part about my break-in of his house and being identified by the police. I didn’t want him to think I was a hoodlum. “He found out after we met at his house. It’s about time he and I had a heart-to-heart talk. Besides, you need someone who can identify him.”

I’d about given up hope of getting Grandma’s money back or of having Tom prosecuted for that scam. He lived a very orderly life in Los Angeles where he was in complete control of his environment, but here he would be out of his comfort zone and his compulsion for order wouldn’t be satisfied, leaving him vulnerable. It was a good place to find out the truth about him.

***

I offered to help Sarah clean up the dishes after lunch, although I’m not very domestic, but she said she could do it faster by herself. Jason took me to the living room, still carrying young Timothy, got on the laptop, and opened up an email account he said was his brother Timothy’s.

“When Timothy was killed and I went to Belfast for his funeral, I checked out his computer and found his email password. I looked at the emails he had stored. There were a couple between him and Cousin Jason in the U.S., but they didn’t mention anything about the syndicate. There weren’t any emails between him and investors, either. The two were apparently very careful about leaving an electronic trail. I think they communicated with each other mostly via a phone hookup through the Internet.”

“I assume the police in Los Angeles checked out Jason’s email there.”

“Undoubtedly. But I suspect they didn’t find anything. I had Timothy’s email account transferred to my service provider for a nominal monthly fee, to see if he would receive anything that would give a clue to his murderer, but he hasn’t. I guess since his death is common knowledge, that was too much to hope for.”

“Have you found a list of investors?”

“No. I couldn’t find any information stored on his computer or in his flat. I didn’t tell the police about the syndicate because I didn’t want to blacken the Boyd family name and I doubted it would help find the murderer.”

Sarah came bustling into the room with a baby carrier. “You can’t spend all your time while Cynthia’s here playing detective, especially since she’s never been to Edinburgh before. We have one of the nicest days you’ll ever see here. It’s perfect for a tour of the Castle.”

In preparation for my trip, I’d read about the famous castle that overlooks Edinburgh. I’d been in Scotland a number of times before because I’d walked what’s called the End-to-End, from John O’Groats in northeastern Scotland to Land’s End in southwestern England, although my walking partner, Janet, and I hadn’t passed through Edinburgh. Unfortunately, my memories of that trek were confined to descriptions from a log Janet kept and her pictures. She lived in England and we corresponded regularly by email.

I was interested in British history, and Edinburgh Castle embodied that. “I’d love to see the Castle. How do we get there?” I knew the answer before Jason spoke.

He grinned. “We walk, if your ankle can manage it.”

He put the straps of the carrier over his shoulders and they plopped Timothy into it.

“We walk to the places close by and take the bus to those a bit farther away. We use the car mostly for going out of town. I have a theory that the Scottish people who live in the cities are more fit than those who live on the farms because they walk a lot more. The farmers drive everywhere in their cars or their John Deere tractors.”

***

Jason and I rode in his car to the airport. We didn’t want to take the bus because we weren’t sure what was going to happen and we needed as much flexibility as possible. It was after dark. Tom’s flight wasn’t the most convenient. He’d probably shopped online for the lowest fare between Los Angeles and Edinburgh.

I’d enjoyed the tour of the Castle. Its ramparts provided good views of the city and the Firth of Forth. Much of the history within its walls was of the period before England took control of Scotland. I got the impression the Scots were yearning for the good old days. Scotland had recently reconvened its own parliament, but its powers were limited.

Before we left the house, Sarah cornered me while Jason was tending to Timothy, which he did on a regular basis. She gave me a searching look.

“I’m depending on you to keep Jason safe from this Tom Kelly. Jason can be a hothead. You appear to be a calming influence.”

She didn’t know the things I’d done that suggested I wasn’t really a calming influence. However, I promised her. I told her I thought it was a good idea to confront Tom immediately on his arrival, so we wouldn’t have to worry about what he was up to. I also said he seemed to have what Rigo called OCD, including an obsession with order he couldn’t satisfy while he was here in Edinburgh, and that might make him vulnerable.

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