merciless. Vicki was a small woman, unable to defend herself against such anger.’ Sam turned back to look at his colleague.
‘Is a forty year old bad debt left by her parents enough to explain the ferocity of that hatred?’ Andy asked levelly.
‘No,’ the American said quietly. ‘I don’t believe it is.’
*
The McNeil family were well known in Seamill. They’d once owned the large Hydro Hotel and plenty of descendants of the clan were still scattered about the area.
Sam and Andy were waiting to meet one of them, in the lounge bar of the town’s main hotel. He was a local historian called Ian McNeil, who Calder found through an internet search.
McNeil, broad and middle aged, approached their table and put out his hand to the men. ‘My name is Ian. I take it you’re the police officers from Glasgow?’
‘Are we that obvious?’ Andy replied with a grin. ‘At this time of the year you’d either be a golfer or visiting the hotel for a pensioners’ lunch. You don’t fit the bill on either score.’
They ordered morning coffee from a waitress in a fetching tartan outfit.
‘How may I help you?’ Ian placed his hands on the table and eyed both detectives.
‘You wrote a book on the history of the McNeil clan, I believe?’
‘Aye, it was published by a local operation five years back. It’s not topped the bestseller lists yet but you’ll find several copies in the village shop.’
‘And you teach at the local school?’
‘That’s right, I’m Head of History at the High School in West Kilbride. Are you American? I thought you were both down from Glasgow?’
Sam smiled. ‘I’m from Richmond, Virginia. A case involving a couple of your clansfolk has brought me over this way.’
Ian leant forward. ‘Now, that is interesting. There is a chapter in my book dedicated to the McNeils in the USA, but my research was only very perfunctory in that area. It really deserves a book of its own and I’d need to travel out there to do proper justice to the topic.’
Sam slipped out his notebook and showed the man a page from it. ‘This couple, John and Rita McNeil, claimed to have ancestors who hailed from Portencross, although they were both born and bred in the US. They taught school in downtown Richmond.’
Ian pulled on a pair of dark rimmed glasses and reached for a bag by his feet. ‘I’ve brought along some documentation of my own.’ He pushed aside the coffee cups and laid out a large and detailed family tree which had been rolled up inside a cardboard cylinder. ‘These are the McNeils, going back to the early nineteenth century. I’ve got a tree at home which stretches back even further, but for our purposes, I thought this would do.’
‘It will do very nicely, sir,’ Sam muttered gratefully.
‘What age would this John McNeil be now?’
Sam rubbed his stubbly chin. ‘The tenancy details suggested he would be around sixty years old.’
Ian ran his finger down the divisions and subdivisions of the intricate document. ‘A small branch of the McNeil family set sail to the United States in the 1840s. The men were headed out to make their fortune in the construction boom taking place in your great cities during that time.’
‘Do you know if any of them ended up in Virginia?’ Sam’s interest had been piqued.
‘As a matter of fact I have
‘Is a forty year old bad debt left by her parents enough to explain the ferocity of that hatred?’ Andy asked levelly.
‘No,’ the American said quietly. ‘I don’t believe it is.’
*
The McNeil family were well known in Seamill. They’d once owned the large Hydro Hotel and plenty of descendants of the clan were still scattered about the area.
Sam and Andy were waiting to meet one of them, in the lounge bar of the town’s main hotel. He was a local historian called Ian McNeil, who Calder found through an internet search.
McNeil, broad and middle aged, approached their table and put out his hand to the men. ‘My name is Ian. I take it you’re the police officers from Glasgow?’
‘Are we that obvious?’ Andy replied with a grin. ‘At this time of the year you’d either be a golfer or visiting the hotel for a pensioners’ lunch. You don’t fit the bill on either score.’
They ordered morning coffee from a waitress in a fetching tartan outfit.
‘How may I help you?’ Ian placed his hands on the table and eyed both detectives.
‘You wrote a book on the history of the McNeil clan, I believe?’
‘Aye, it was published by a local operation five years back. It’s not topped the bestseller lists yet but you’ll find several copies in the village shop.’
‘And you teach at the local school?’
‘That’s right, I’m Head of History at the High School in West Kilbride. Are you American? I thought you were both down from Glasgow?’
Sam smiled. ‘I’m from Richmond, Virginia. A case involving a couple of your clansfolk has brought me over this way.’
Ian leant forward. ‘Now, that is interesting. There is a chapter in my book dedicated to the McNeils in the USA, but my research was only very perfunctory in that area. It really deserves a book of its own and I’d need to travel out there to do proper justice to the topic.’
Sam slipped out his notebook and showed the man a page from it. ‘This couple, John and Rita McNeil, claimed to have ancestors who hailed from Portencross, although they were both born and bred in the US. They taught school in downtown Richmond.’
Ian pulled on a pair of dark rimmed glasses and reached for a bag by his feet. ‘I’ve brought along some documentation of my own.’ He pushed aside the coffee cups and laid out a large and detailed family tree which had been rolled up inside a cardboard cylinder. ‘These are the McNeils, going back to the early nineteenth century. I’ve got a tree at home which stretches back even further, but for our purposes, I thought this would do.’
‘It will do very nicely, sir,’ Sam muttered gratefully.
‘What age would this John McNeil be now?’
Sam rubbed his stubbly chin. ‘The tenancy details suggested he would be around sixty years old.’
Ian ran his finger down the divisions and subdivisions of the intricate document. ‘A small branch of the McNeil family set sail to the United States in the 1840s. The men were headed out to make their fortune in the construction boom taking place in your great cities during that time.’
‘Do you know if any of them ended up in Virginia?’ Sam’s interest had been piqued.
‘As a matter of fact I have
Similar Books
