Page 31 of Death on a Scottish Train

Ewan shrugged. “Then why take the part-time job with the train? That isn’t the action of someone running away. Perhaps, he was saving to invest in something else.”

“Then put the money in a safe,” I said. “He has to have one around here somewhere. I know you like evidence, but my gut says he was up to no good. Maybe he took the part-time job because he loves trains, and he was biding his time until he could make a getaway.

“I mean, think about it. As the government closed in on him, he could don his costume, hop on a train, and be at the airport in Edinburgh in a couple of hours.”

“But someone got to him before he could do that,” Henry offered.

I nodded.

Ewan sighed. “That is a scenario, but we deal with …”

“Facts,” Henry and I said at the same time.

“Exactly,” Ewan said.

“I bet you a pint at the Pig & Whistle he has money all over his home. That amount isn’t exactly enough to run away from the life he had and start a new one. I have to go. Abigail has something she wouldn’t tell me over the phone. But you need to check.”

“Aye,” Ewan said.

Maybe we needed more proof, but things were definitely not adding up with the accountant.

Henry gave me a ride down the mountain to my practice. He’d been instructed by Ewan to find out what Abigail had discovered in the tests. That was no problem for the young officer, since she and her brother were two of Henry’s favorite people.

I put my bag on her desk. She was just coming down the hall from the lab.

“That was quick,” she said.

“Henry gave me a ride.” He came through the door as I mentioned him.

Abigail’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, which happened anytime he was near. She’d been through a great deal as a youth and wasn’t terribly trusting when it came to men.

We had that in common.

But sweet Henry had all the time in the world when it came to Abigail and Tommy. I’d enjoyed watching their relationship blossom over the past year.

“The Doc said you had something new.” Henry smiled at her, and she bit her lip.

“Yes, I decided since the lip balm had been treated with bee venom, I’d check the epidermis for signs that it might be on more than his lips. I tested patches for reactions and found that the venom wasn’t only on the lips.

“If he used a moisturizer or shaving cream, it may be in those. We should check all of his toiletries. I’m surprised there wasn’t some sort of skin reaction given his allergy. That part doesn’t make sense to me.”

“The concentration may not have been as strong,” I offered. “We think the bee venom was injected into the balm, and the levels were quite high. But tainting something like shaving cream, if it comes in a can like most of it does, wouldn’t be as simple.

“Henry, when I checked earlier there wasn’t much in the way of toiletries in the bathroom.”

“I’d already boxed everything, once the ACC said we were dealing with some sort of toxin.”

“Ah. That makes sense. Can you find that box in evidence and bring it down for tests?”

“Yes, is there anything else?”

“Maybe a few articles of clothing. Look for things that are a bit worn.”

“Why some of his clothes?”

“I’m curious how long this poisoning has been going on and if perhaps the killer had upped their game.”

“How would they poison the clothes?” Abigail asked.