The Assassin's Gift

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The Assassin's Gift Page 30

by C. P. IRVINE, IAN


  They both drank.

  "And what's the latest with the landowner?"

  "He's given us the deadline for when we have to leave. And yesterday letters of eviction were effectively served to all the community members. I have yours with me now, I'm sorry to say." He said, reaching into his back pocket and extracting a folded letter.

  He handed it over to her.

  "Don't read it now. It's just depressing." He advised.

  "Later then. But surely there is something we can do about it?"

  "Are you staying around long enough to join in the fight?"

  "I don't know, to be honest. Tuck in, the salmon will get cold."

  Gavin picked up his cutlery and admired the food on the plate in front of him.

  "It looks amazing. And smells fantastic." He took a little bit from the end of his fork. "And it tastes incredible... what's on it?"

  "An Italian secret. Sorry. No can tell."

  "Italian?"

  "My grandparents arrived in America from Italy at the end of World War Two."

  "I wondered where you got the smouldering, sexy, Sophia Loren type look from..."

  "Sexy?"

  "Very."

  "Eat up and behave." She joked, but by now, they both knew that misbehaving was probably, with any luck, definitely on the dessert menu.

  They began to eat.

  "I can't believe that the owner has had such a change of heart. I mean, he was prepared to gift the estate to everyone if he died, but now he's going to sell it. There must be a reason."

  "I suspect you're right. The last time I met him, he looked drained and very sad. It's not something I'd want to say or suggest, but ... if the sale was delayed long enough, just from looking at him, I couldn't help thinking he might die before it went through. No wonder he's wanting to rush it through."

  "Do you think he's seriously ill? I don't know if that makes sense. If he was dying why would he want to sell the land? The money soon won't be of any use to him, anyway. That reason doesn't ring true."

  "I know. Anyway, seriously, this meal is delicious..."

  "Thanks." She smiled back, but quickly returned to the topic. "Do you think that I could meet him?"

  "To be honest, no. He's a recluse, practically. Never leaves home. He only gets involved with the community through me. And when I arrange anything with him, I have to go through his private secretary who guards his private life like a hawk."

  "So, where do you go to meet him, whenever you do?"

  "At his home. The big castle on the hill just past Auchterawe. You've probably seen it from the road when you drive up from Fort William."

  "That castle? The one with all the turrets? It's massive."

  "That's the one..."

  Alessandra nodded.

  She'd learned enough. She knew what she had to do to save the community, and there was no one more qualified to do it in the whole of Scotland than her.

  She turned her attention back to Gavin.

  From this point forward, the rest of the evening was for pleasure only.

  Business, Alessandra's type of business, could wait until tomorrow.

  But right now, she was looking forward to dessert.

  And Gavin, most definitely, was it.

  Chapter 30

  Inverness

  Wednesday

  10.00 a.m.

  When Gavin left the caravan that morning just before nine o'clock, he had the biggest smile on his face since he'd received a sledge for Christmas when he was ten years old.

  He was going to be late opening up the Visitors’ Centre, but he didn't care.

  Dessert last night had been amazing.

  So much so that he has asked for seconds.

  And then insisted on thirds.

  It was Alessandra who had initiated fourths when they had woken up.

  Their passion had been mutual, and each had been 'as hungry' as the other.

  "Tonight? Again?" Gavin had asked. "Or do you need to rest?"

  "Perhaps. But I'll call you if I recover!" Then she had kissed him passionately on the lips and pushed him out of the door.

  Even as he left, she wondered if she would ever see him again.

  Certainly, if all went well that day, she may never be able to return to the caravan site.

  Ideally, she would have preferred to have had more time to plan everything, but from what Gavin had said later the night before, there was no time to be had.

  The ground which the Loch Ness Hilton occupied was going to be sold in the next few days. There was literally no time to make complicated plans.

  If she was going to help them; if she was going to sort the situation out as only she could, she had to act today.

  Luckily, she already had a plan.

  Once the coffee had revived her, she got her laptop out, signed onto Tor and things began to fall into place rather quickly.

  By looking up the Land Registry of Scotland she was able to find out who the owner of Auchterawe Castle was.

  Then, by searching with his name on Google, Facebook, LinkedIn, The Institute of Directors, Companies House, and a number of top British newspapers, she had unearthed a mass of data on the philanthropist who had promised to give the land at Loch Ness to the community that now lived there.

  She even found a photograph from the Inverness Chronicle taken several years back, showing him presenting Gavin with a document giving everyone the right to live there.

  Interestingly, there was not much about his family, except that he had a daughter and that sadly, his wife had died several years before.

  She made extensive notes, capturing the name of his lawyers, his Personal Secretary, his email addresses, the names of all the businesses he owned, - several of which she noted were now in financial trouble - , and his telephone numbers.

  An hour later, she felt she was almost ready, having ensured that she had first retrieved another set of false identification from her suitcase. Another identity which she felt she may need to pull this off.

  But before she could go to work, she needed two more things.

  The first was an appointment to visit him. To get the opportunity to spend a few minutes alone with him in a room.

  The second she could easily find in the forest...

  --------------------

  "Hello, may I speak with Mr Donald Robertson?" Alessandra asked, having dialled the private telephone number she had for the castle.

  "He is not here today. He's down in Edinburgh. Can I help you?"

  A man's voice. He sounded tired. Perhaps with a cold.

  She knew who he was. And this was just a game. A ruse. A means to an end.

  "Ahh... I'm sorry to disturb you. I've been trying to track him down. I was informed by Anderson and Mather in Glasgow that he was the personal secretary to Sir Gordon Macrae."

  "That's correct."

  "It's urgent I get to speak with him. It concerns the sale of the Macrae Estate bordering Loch Ness."

  "In what regard?"

  "I'm sorry, I can't speak about that, unless it's with Mr Robertson."

  "Are you an American?"

  "Yes, but..."

  "I like Americans. You can speak with me, directly."

  "And who are you?" she played along.

  "Sir Gordon Macrae. And it's my estate you are referring to. What is it about the sale that needs discussing so urgently?"

  "Oh, excuse me, Sir Gordon. I didn't realise it was you."

  "How would you? I repeat, what is it about the sale that needs discussing so urgently?"

  "I represent the law firm of Schwartz and Alderman, based in New York. As part of the proposed sale of the portion of the Macrae Estate I was referring to, we were contacted by the law firm in Scotland in an effort to establish unconditional ownership of the estate, and to settle a query raised with the firm..."

  "What firm are you talking about?"

  "Anderson and Mather. Anyway, this is a matter of urgency, as we have been informed that the sale of t
he estate is imminent, and it must be stopped immediately."

  "On what grounds?"

  Alessandra hesitated.

  "I'm afraid what I have to say may be rather sensitive and could potentially come as a shock to you, if you were as yet unaware of the personal information that I'm in possession of..."

  "Would you please stop havering and spit it out! The sale is going ahead and that's that. It must go ahead. It's all arranged."

  "I'm afraid it can't. You see, the land doesn't belong to you, Sir Gordon. It turns out that you have an elder brother, and that he is the legal Laird of the estate."

  "Rubbish! I don't have a brother! I'm an only child."

  "Unfortunately, I beg to differ, Sir. You see, were you aware of the fact that your father, Mark Macrae, visited the States just before he was married?"

  "No, I wasn't. And why should I be?"

  "He met a young lady, and to cut a long story short, she got pregnant. Mark Macrae travelled back to Scotland, unaware of the situation. They never spoke again. I, we, - the firm of Schwartz and Alderman - have been representing Stefan Stanislav, your brother, to help him track down his father. Which is why Anderson and Mather have contacted us."

  There was silence on the other end of the phone.

  With any luck, her plan was working. Alessandra was hoping to overwhelm him with facts and confuse him, to upset him and push him into a corner.

  "Sir Gordon. I'm in Inverness at the moment. It's imperative I meet with Mr Robertson today. I need to serve him with an injunction to prevent the sale from proceeding. Although, otherwise, I could serve it to you yourself? If we don't manage to discuss this in private, I'm afraid the Scotsman is going to print a full page notice in tomorrow's press which will have the same legal effect, and we will then enter into a legal process of due diligence lasting up to three months."

  "Three months? No, I need the sale to proceed immediately!"

  "There is no alternative."

  "Can you prove what you are saying? Do you have evidence?"

  "It's in my briefcase. I have it by my side as we speak."

  "Then, bring it here now. I'll see you in an hour. And we can sort this out once and for all!"

  Alessandra smiled. That was exactly her intention.

  "Where are you just now?"

  "I'm at the Castle. In Auchterawe. You'll have to take me as you find me, I'm afraid. We're both a little unwell and we don't have any help today. It's just us."

  "We? May I enquire who the other party is?"

  "My daughter. Grace."

  "Excellent. I look forward to seeing you in an hour."

  The first part of the plan had gone well.

  Rubbing her hands together, she stood up, and prepared to leave the caravan.

  It was now time for phase two: a trip to the forest.

  --------------------

  She didn't have to drive far. About five minutes out of Fort Augustus along Loch Ness towards Inverness she found the first sign pointing to a Forestry Commission car park. Turning off the main road up into the trees, she came across a small open area in the wood where a number of hill walkers had parked their cars. Although it was quite close to where she had lain in wait for Kuznetsov, the police had long since departed from the area and she didn't feel worried.

  The timing was perfect. It was just after midday. The hikers would all be mid-route on their walks and unlikely to return to their cars anytime soon.

  Still, she had to act fast.

  Parking near two cars furthest away from the entrance, she took her battery-powered screwdriver from the passenger seat of the car, and walked round to the back of the other two cars. With no signs of anyone else nearby, she knelt down, and quickly removed the screws holding the two rear number plates to the cars.

  After removing both plates, she quickly jumped back in her car and drove out of the car park.

  Continuing along the road to the next car park, she found a quiet spot in the corner and then swapped the number plates on the front and back of her car, with those she had just stolen.

  It was an old trick, one which she had used many times before.

  The likelihood of anyone reporting a single missing number plate was small. By borrowing the number plates from other people, she would be able to drive right up to the Castle Gates, not worried that the estate's CCTV cameras would identify Alice Brandon. Admittedly, Alice Brandon was also a false ID, but nevertheless the rental agreement would identify Alice Brandon who could then be connected to the Loch Ness Hilton, and who may want to return there at some point in the future. Perhaps.

  Anyway, it was good practice. In her job, it was all about smoke and mirrors.

  The more the merrier.

  Once everything was in place and secure, she drove to the nearest café, had lunch, then retired to the public toilet where she put on her 'lawyer' disguise: a black wig, coloured contact lenses and a lot of makeup.

  Having already paid the bill, she returned directly to her car and drove off.

  Everything was ready, including a vial of poison and a full syringe in her pockets.

  When she left the caravan that morning she'd taken everything she'd needed. There was nothing left for her to have to go back for.

  She thought briefly about Gavin and the night before, and smiled at the memory.

  If things had been different, she would have liked to have seen him again. To have spent more time together. And to make love.

  Shaking herself, she concentrated back on the road.

  She knew that she would probably never see him again. Or Lisa, Robert or Sally.

  In fact, after concluding her business with Sir Gordon, she knew she could probably never see this part of Scotland again.

  As she headed south and drove through Fort Augustus one last time, she glanced left over her shoulder at Loch Ness and bade farewell to the Lady of the Loch.

  That would be her biggest regret.

  Never having known the truth, or having seen her, with certainty.

  Chapter 31

  Auchterawe Castle

  Wednesday

  1.30 p.m.

  Alessandra could see the castle from the road as she approached it from the north. Imposing and impressive, it sat atop a tall shimmering granite cliff face against the side of a mountain, commanding an impressive sweeping panorama of the valley to the north and south of it.

  A small sign eventually directed her away from the main road, through the trees and towards an equally impressive set of closed, tall, wrought iron gates.

  Pulling up in front she pressed the intercom.

  "Alice Brandon from New York to see Sir Gordon Macrae."

  "Hello Miss Brandon, please just continue driving along the road you're on, and you'll eventually come to t

  he front of the castle. We're expecting you."

  The gates swung open and she drove on through.

  The road through the estate wound around and around, rising up through the forest until it eventually levelled off and ended on a large expanse of gravel with a stone wall and the cliff on one side, and a small flight steps leading up to the large doors of the castle on the other.

  Alessandra parked the car at the bottom of the steps and got out.

  She was just about to start climbing the steps when she heard a voice calling to her from her left.

  A man had just stepped through a small, unimpressive wooden door at the base of the castle walls.

  He waved at her to go over to him.

  "Alice? I'm sorry, it's family tradition. We only open up the main doors for the annual visit of the Queen. Otherwise, we mostly use this entrance. Not quite so grand, but it takes us directly to our living quarters."

  He held out a hand to her, and she shook it.

  His handshake was weak. And he looked tired, and very stressed.

  He saw the confusion on her face and explained further.

  "We struggle with the upkeep, so we normally open the castle up to the public five days a we
ek. We live down her away from all the tourists."

  "And not today?"

  "With the sale of the Loch Ness portion of the estate imminent ... and several other issues which are more pressing, we've put the tours on hold, for now. All going well, we'll be opening the Castle again later during the summer."

  She smiled, said a few trivial words and held up the attaché case in her hand.

  "Where shall we go?"

  "Follow me."

  As she followed him in, she checked the syringe in her pocket, all primed and ready to go.

  It would only take a moment. A quick stab to the buttocks, - or the neck - and a natural plant extract from South America would find its way into his bloodstream, swiftly leading to a massive heart attack, and certain death.

  "Did you mention that we're alone, apart from your daughter? Will she be joining us?"

  "No. She isn't able to. And yes, we're the only people in the castle just now," he confirmed, setting Alessandra at ease.

  "Would you like tea or coffee?" Sir Gordon asked, "And I've laid out a selection of cakes and sandwiches, just in case you're peckish."

  "Tea would be wonderful, please." she replied, looking around the large luxurious room that they had now emerged into. It was bright, afforded an amazing view of the valley outside, and was hung with tapestries around the walls. A large grand piano, covered with family photographs, took up one of the corners. A massive stone fireplace dominated the centre - not lit during the summer - and the two walls at either end of the large room were covered by floor to ceiling bookshelves.

  "Please, make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a second."

  She chose a seat on one of the three large sofas that were arranged around the fireplace, and waited.

  Flicking open the attaché case, she slid her hand underneath the files it contained, and checked that the second syringe was immediately at hand.

  The plan would be to kill him as soon as possible after he returned, and then to exit the way she had come.

  With any luck, his daughter would not see her, and she would be gone within moments of his death, which would be rapid and appear to any doctor as completely natural.

 

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