practice, I don’t know. I just don’t know.’
‘Shouldn’t we just sell out? Richard told me he’d been approached by a buyer.’
‘That may be the right decision. Personally, I’d like to see what state the company is in before making up my mind. But there’s one problem.’
‘Oh? What’s that?’
‘Your father.’
‘My father?’
‘Yes. He doesn’t want to sell.’
‘He doesn’t want to sell? Why not? We should get out while we can.’
‘He’s adamant. He feels that FairSystems was so important to Richard that it would be wrong to sell. He says Richard didn’t want to sell out, so he doesn’t think we should.’
‘Can’t you persuade him he’s wrong?’
Sorenson stopped by the next tee, stood up straight and looked at me. ‘Geoff told me that you and he haven’t spoken to each other for ten years. And after what he did to Gina, I guess I can understand that. Maybe.’ He sighed, and looked out to sea for a moment, as if searching for something. ‘But you and your father are FairSystems’ two biggest shareholders. If you two have differences of opinion about what you want to do with the company, as chairman, I have to insist that you resolve them. The company doesn’t need that uncertainty hanging over it.’
His eyes locked on mine, and he said slowly, with absolute authority, ‘Mark. You’ve got to talk to him.’
I held his gaze for a moment. He was right.
‘OK,’ I said, and sliced my ball into the rough.
The sun shone off Detective Superintendent Donaldson’s bald pate, as he sat bolt upright at the old oak table in Richard’s kitchen. Kerr slouched next to him. We all sipped mugs of tea.
‘We’ve made some progress with our inquiries,’ Donaldson was saying. ‘We’d like to ask you a few more questions in the light of what we’ve discovered.’
‘Go ahead,’ I said with interest.
‘We’ve found the murder weapon. Your brother was killed by a blow from a firewood axe, probably whilst he was turning to look at his attacker. We found the axe in a hedge in a lane just off the road to Glenrothes.’
‘Oh, right. I remember Richard chopping wood when I came to stay with him last winter,’ I said.
‘Would you be able to identify the axe?’ asked Donaldson.
I thought for a moment and shook my head. ‘No, I really can’t remember what it looked like.’
‘Never mind. We’re pretty sure the murderer was someone your brother knew. There are no signs that the door was forced. The front door, and a number of surfaces in the kitchen, were wiped clean. This suggests that your brother let the murderer into the kitchen, and then took him out to the boathouse.’
I was listening carefully.
‘It probably wasn’t premeditated,’ continued Donaldson. ‘The axe was just the nearest weapon to hand. If the murder was planned, then the killer would have brought his own weapon. There are no signs that anything was stolen, although we can’t be completely sure about that.’
‘Any fingerprints?’ I asked.
‘No,’ said Donaldson. ‘As I said, all the surfaces in the kitchen were wiped down with a cloth. So was the axe. No footprints either. Nor any fibre evidence.’
‘Do you have any suspects?’
Donaldson frowned. ‘Patience, son. A murder investigation takes time. A lot of officers, a lot of time. But we’ll get there.’
I looked appropriately chastened.
‘Now, we’ve learned that Mr Fairfax had an argument with one of his colleagues, David Baker, on Friday, the day before he died. Apparently, Baker was so angry he stormed off home immediately afterwards. You mentioned that your brother spoke to you about problems at FairSystems a couple of times over the last few weeks?’
I nodded.
‘Did he ever mention David Baker?’
‘No. I hadn’t heard of him until Walter Sorenson mentioned him a few days ago.’
‘So he gave no indication that Baker had anything to do with whatever was worrying him?’
‘No, none at all.’
‘I see,’ said
‘Shouldn’t we just sell out? Richard told me he’d been approached by a buyer.’
‘That may be the right decision. Personally, I’d like to see what state the company is in before making up my mind. But there’s one problem.’
‘Oh? What’s that?’
‘Your father.’
‘My father?’
‘Yes. He doesn’t want to sell.’
‘He doesn’t want to sell? Why not? We should get out while we can.’
‘He’s adamant. He feels that FairSystems was so important to Richard that it would be wrong to sell. He says Richard didn’t want to sell out, so he doesn’t think we should.’
‘Can’t you persuade him he’s wrong?’
Sorenson stopped by the next tee, stood up straight and looked at me. ‘Geoff told me that you and he haven’t spoken to each other for ten years. And after what he did to Gina, I guess I can understand that. Maybe.’ He sighed, and looked out to sea for a moment, as if searching for something. ‘But you and your father are FairSystems’ two biggest shareholders. If you two have differences of opinion about what you want to do with the company, as chairman, I have to insist that you resolve them. The company doesn’t need that uncertainty hanging over it.’
His eyes locked on mine, and he said slowly, with absolute authority, ‘Mark. You’ve got to talk to him.’
I held his gaze for a moment. He was right.
‘OK,’ I said, and sliced my ball into the rough.
The sun shone off Detective Superintendent Donaldson’s bald pate, as he sat bolt upright at the old oak table in Richard’s kitchen. Kerr slouched next to him. We all sipped mugs of tea.
‘We’ve made some progress with our inquiries,’ Donaldson was saying. ‘We’d like to ask you a few more questions in the light of what we’ve discovered.’
‘Go ahead,’ I said with interest.
‘We’ve found the murder weapon. Your brother was killed by a blow from a firewood axe, probably whilst he was turning to look at his attacker. We found the axe in a hedge in a lane just off the road to Glenrothes.’
‘Oh, right. I remember Richard chopping wood when I came to stay with him last winter,’ I said.
‘Would you be able to identify the axe?’ asked Donaldson.
I thought for a moment and shook my head. ‘No, I really can’t remember what it looked like.’
‘Never mind. We’re pretty sure the murderer was someone your brother knew. There are no signs that the door was forced. The front door, and a number of surfaces in the kitchen, were wiped clean. This suggests that your brother let the murderer into the kitchen, and then took him out to the boathouse.’
I was listening carefully.
‘It probably wasn’t premeditated,’ continued Donaldson. ‘The axe was just the nearest weapon to hand. If the murder was planned, then the killer would have brought his own weapon. There are no signs that anything was stolen, although we can’t be completely sure about that.’
‘Any fingerprints?’ I asked.
‘No,’ said Donaldson. ‘As I said, all the surfaces in the kitchen were wiped down with a cloth. So was the axe. No footprints either. Nor any fibre evidence.’
‘Do you have any suspects?’
Donaldson frowned. ‘Patience, son. A murder investigation takes time. A lot of officers, a lot of time. But we’ll get there.’
I looked appropriately chastened.
‘Now, we’ve learned that Mr Fairfax had an argument with one of his colleagues, David Baker, on Friday, the day before he died. Apparently, Baker was so angry he stormed off home immediately afterwards. You mentioned that your brother spoke to you about problems at FairSystems a couple of times over the last few weeks?’
I nodded.
‘Did he ever mention David Baker?’
‘No. I hadn’t heard of him until Walter Sorenson mentioned him a few days ago.’
‘So he gave no indication that Baker had anything to do with whatever was worrying him?’
‘No, none at all.’
‘I see,’ said
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