Page 13 of Death on a Scottish Train

The patrons went back to chatting.

This was a game we played anytime I had a new case. People in town were always curious, and the pub was often the best place for someone to hear the latest craic, as they called it.

“Really?” She leaned in and whispered the word.

I nodded. “Nothing conclusive yet. Abigail is continuing to run tests.”

“I still feel guilty for having such horrible thoughts about the man, and he’d been dead the whole time.”

“No one blames you. As far as you knew, he didn’t show up for work.”

“Do you think it’s murder?”

I shrugged. “Like you said last night, he probably didn’t stuff himself in that cupboard and lock the latch.”

She glanced over my shoulder. “What can I get you this fine morning, Doctor?”

Customers must have taken notice of our hushed tones.

“Full Scottish,” I said. “And if there are any blueberry scones left, a few of those to go.”

While I ate, I tried to think of ways the bee venom could have entered the dead man’s system. If it had been in his food, which he would have eaten elsewhere, the attack would have happened before he even arrived.

It would have gone straight into his bloodstream. It was possible, if he had a glass of champagne when he arrived, it could have been in there. But it would have been quite dicey for the murderer to pick the right glass.

“Mara, did anyone leave out the front before we got on the train?”

She shook her head. “I was the last on board, and locked the front doors since everyone in the building was on the train. We didn’t want to leave it unattended.”

That meant the killer had most likely been on the train. I shivered.

I didn’t remember seeing champagne listed among the contents of his stomach, but I’d come down here before reading the full report.

I’d just finished my breakfast, when my phone dinged.

I think I found the source. It was a text from Abigail.

“Is everything OK?” Mara asked.

My face must have given something away.

“Some more of the tests came back. I need to go.”

She handed me a paper bag. “There are blueberry scones, and I threw in a couple of chocolate ones for you.”

“It’s like you read my mind. Thanks.”

“Let me know if you learn anything,” she whispered.

I nodded.

I was well aware the rest of the pub had quieted down when they’d seen us whispering. Even though Mara wouldn’t say anything, people here had a way of finding things out. But that information wasn’t coming from me. I had no desire to face the wrath of the ACC.

Abigail was still at her desk when I made it up the hill. I put the sack of scones on her desk. The door opened behind me, and I turned to tell whoever it was we weren’t open. Though, we were always open for emergencies, but it was Ewan coming in behind me.

He held up a hand as if to say hello, and then turned his attention to Abigail.

“What did you find?” he asked.