Chapter 1
death of a scholarly soul
An elderly Scotsman sat by his fireside, nursing a dram of whiskey on New Year's Eve. His house was quiet, not a sound save for the crackling of the fire in the grate and the tick of the grandfather clock in the corner of his study. The clock chimed midnight and the man debated about whether to head to his bed or not, when a gun's muzzle was pressed against his temple by a black gloved hand.
Being a retired medical examiner he knew the hand belonged to a man. He had barely enough time to dial his assistant's mobile phone before the gun was pressed tighter against his head.
"Sir? Andy, is something wrong?" Came the crackling voice of his American, with a Scottish lilted, assistant, Catriona. "sir!"
"Good bye, Lieutenant." Came the gruff, accented voice of the man behind him. The elderly man, closed his eyes and thought of the beautiful young woman he was leaving behind in his stead. A woman, he knew, would catch this illusive gentleman who now held the gun to his head. He wasn't afraid, he was ready to meet his maker.
"Sir!" Catriona screamed as the shot rang out in her ears down the phone line.