Page 69 of Somewhere Along The Way (Mackinnon #3)

“I know that. But I never really understood what it meant until now.” She looked at the Mackinnon.

“Not until you mentioned that bandage. Don’t you see?

You mentioned that it glared like a mirror, and in a way it was—a mirror into my mind.

The minute you made that comparison, this passage flashed into my consciousness.

I had a vivid picture of Ross waving to you…

waving with his right hand. His right hand. Don’t you understand what I mean?”

The Mackinnon looked at Percy. They both shook their heads. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I understand. Just believe me when I say, it was no accident that this has been revealed to us, Your Grace. It was divine intervention.” She paused and looked at them.

“Go on,” the Mackinnon said, and Bella would have sworn the weariness dropped away from him, right before her very eyes.

“Gavin was stabbed near his right shoulder blade. Ross is right-handed.” She went to Percy and turned him around, putting his back to her.

“Gavin was stabbed here,” she said, making imaginary markings to show the upper right quarter of Percy’s back.

Then she made a fist with her right hand and stabbed his back.

“If a right-handed person comes up behind his victim and stabs him, where does the knife go? Here?” She stabbed Percy again.

The natural swing of her arm went, not to the upper right portion of Percy’s back, but to the left.

“To the left side,” the Mackinnon said, his eyes blazing to life.

“And what would you guess to be the angle of the slant?”

“I suppose it would angle down somewhat, and a little to the left,” the Mackinnon said.

“Exactly. It would go toward the left shoulder blade, while a left-handed person,” she clenched her left hand and stabbed Percy again, “would stab in an altogether different direction, angling toward the right,” she said.

“Perhaps you’re right. It would go to the right. But, I don’t think it’s enough evidence,” the Mackinnon said.

“It is. I know it is…and more importantly, it’s all we’ve got. Read this,” she said. “See how it tells the angle of the knife wound. I’m no expert, of course, but from reading this, it sounds to me as if the man who stabbed Gavin would have to be a left-handed person.”

She handed the paper to Percy. He read a few sentences and lifted his head in sudden enlightenment. “Huntly is left-handed,” he said.

“Huntly,” Annabella said.

“Are you sure?” asked the Mackinnon. “Think, man, this is important.”

“I’m sure. I remember, because before he testified at the trial I saw him write something and hand the paper to the advocate. And he wrote it with his left hand. I’m sure of it.”

The Mackinnon rang for Robert. “Order my coach. We leave for Edinburgh immediately,” he said.

“Tonight, Your Grace?”

“Right this minute,” the Mackinnon replied.

“But dinner, Your Grace. It’s ready to be…”

“We haven’t time for dinner. Order the coach.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

By the time they reached the ferry, there had been a change of plans. “I’ve been thinking one of us should go to Seaforth. In order to prove our claim that Gavin was murdered by a left-handed man, we’ll need the doctor who examined your brother’s body,” Percy said.

“I suppose you’re right,” the Mackinnon replied. “When we reach Kyleakin we’ll hire another carriage to take the two of you to Seaforth. I’ll go on to Edinburgh to meet with my solicitor to set everything in motion.”

“I want to go to Edinburgh with you,” Annabella said, but Percy vetoed that idea.

“You’d better come with me. Gavin was your brother. You would have to authorize the doctor to give us access to the information we need.”

Even though it was decided Annabella would not go to Edinburgh, but would continue on to Seaforth with Percy, she couldn’t help the feeling of elation that lifted her spirits.

She had not felt so good since before that terrible day at Seaforth when she had come downstairs and seen Ross standing in the doorway with her brother in his arms, his clothes covered with Gavin’s blood.

They reached the mainland and the Mackinnon went on to Edinburgh alone, Percy and Annabella heading north. After another day of travel, they arrived at Dr. MacTarver’s. He was away on a call, so Percy left word they would return the next day. They spent the night at Seaforth.

True to their word, Annabella accompanied Barra and Percy to Dr. MacTarver’s office the next day.

The pungent fumes of formaldehyde wafted over her the moment they stepped inside, bringing with it all the painful memories of Gavin’s death.

It was Saturday morning, and a woman was sweeping the floor. Otherwise, the office was empty.

“Is Dr. MacTarver here?” asked Percy.

A door opened and Dr. MacTarver came out, drying his hands. “Ahhh, Lady Annabella, isn’t it?” Annabella nodded. “I heard you were looking for me.”

“Yes,” she said. “This is Lord Percival and my uncle, Barra Mackenzie, you know.”

Dr. MacTarver shook hands with each of them.

“It is most urgent that we talk to you,” Annabella said. “It’s a matter of life or death.”

Dr. MacTarver knitted his white bushy brows and began rolling down his sleeves. “Why don’t you go clean in the other room, Elspeth?”

The woman left and Dr. MacTarver motioned for them to take the two chairs opposite his. He sat behind the desk. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

Percy leaned forward. “A few months ago you examined the body of Lady Annabella’s brother, the Marquess of Larrimore, shortly after his death.”

“Yes. I remember the puir lad. Knifed in the back, he was.”

“It’s concerning the report you made after your examination of the body that we’re here.”

Dr. MacTarver leaned back, his leather chair creaking. “I’m afraid I can’t give you any more information than I included on my report. I am a very thorough man. When I fill out my report, I leave nothing out.”

“We aren’t questioning that,” Percy said. “We would like further clarification.”

“Clarification on what?”

“The study you made of my brother, Dr. MacTarver. How extensive was it?” Annabella asked.

“What do you mean by extensive?”

“When you examined him, was it to determine the cause and conditions of his death, or simply to certify that he was knifed?”

“Young woman, I’ll have you know conducting an autopsy has been around since the Middle Ages. I knew what I was about. I have a medical degree from Edinburgh University and I studied at the Great Windmill Street School of Anatomy. I know how to determine cause of death.”

Percy looked at Annabella. “Lady Annabella did not mean to imply you didn’t know what you were about, Doctor.

She read something from your report that caught her attention.

It might prove the innocence of the man due to hang for her brother’s murder.

” Percy removed a leather envelope from his pocket, taking out several sheets of paper.

“It was brought out in the trial that the fatal wound to Lord Larrimore was in the upper right quadrant of his back, near the right shoulder blade.”

“Let me get my report,” Dr. MacTarver said, “before I confirm or deny that.” A few minutes later he had located the file and returned to his desk.

It took only a moment for him to find what he was looking for.

“Yes…here it is. Yes, that’s correct—I did say the upper right quadrant.

I’ve drawn a diagram,” he said, turning the paper so they could all see it.

“Lady Annabella believes from further statements you made concerning the angle of the knife that her brother had to be stabbed by someone who was left-handed.”

Dr. MacTarver looked thoughtful, as if he were carefully weighing and considering what Percy had just said. Without speaking, he referred to his papers once again, reading what he had written, studying his sketches. He made several sweeping motions with his arm—first his right, and then his left.

The agony they had all been through, waiting for Dr. MacTarver to reach a decision, was worth every precious moment of it when Dr. MacTarver looked at them and said, “I agree.” He slammed his hand down and spoke with great emphasis.

Annabella jumped a foot when he slammed his hand down, then gave him an astonished look that gave way to one of great joy. “You do? You really do? You mean you agree with what we said?”

“I do, and I’ll show you why.” He took a clean piece of paper and began sketching a diagram of a back.

He laid his pen down and picked up a letter opener, holding it in his right hand as if it were a knife.

He stabbed it forward. “Now, watch the swing of my hand as it moves in an arc.” He stabbed the letter opener again.

“You see how the natural swing is from right to left?” Percy and Annabella nodded.

“Now watch.” He changed hands, holding the letter opener in his left hand and going through the same motions.

“You see the difference? In the left hand the arc swings at a different angle. If your brother had been stabbed by a right-handed man, Lady Annabella, the wound left by the knife would have angled downward, going from right to left. On the other hand, a left-handed person would have stabbed the knife at a left-to-right angle. These sketches I’ve made of the wound coincide with what you’ve said.

” He closed his file and stood up. “It is my professional opinion that your brother was murdered by someone who had a marked preference for his left hand.”

“Thank God,” Annabella said, rising to her feet. “You don’t know what this means.”

“A man’s life, I would guess,” Dr. MacTarver said.

“And we don’t have much time left to save it,” Percy said. “He’s scheduled to hang in Edinburgh on Monday.”

“Holy heather!” Dr. MacTarver said. “That’s the day after tomorrow. You’d best be getting under way.” He reflected a moment. “I suppose you’ll be needing me to come with you?”

Percy grinned. “Yes—it would be much easier to have you volunteer than to drag you there by force—chloroformed, if necessary.”

“Chloroform? I see you’ve kept up-to-date on your reading,” Dr. MacTarver said.

Dr. MacTarver’s offer to accompany them seemed to be the end of their good fortune, for the trip to Edinburgh was besieged with unfortunate delays.

It rained during their entire journey, making travel slow and difficult.

One of the coach horses came up lame near Ft.

William, causing a delay in acquiring another one.

Near Stirling they lost a wheel and had to continue the journey on horseback.

They reached Edinburgh early Monday morning, going straight to the hotel.

With the Mackinnon in tow, they went first to the solicitor’s, then to the advocate.

Less than an hour before Ross was scheduled to hang, they had the proper papers to secure his release.

As they left the advocate’s office, Annabella said, “We haven’t much time. Why don’t you take the horses and go on. I’ll follow in the coach.”

She watched Percy and the Mackinnon take off at a gallop, then climbed into the coach. If anyone had ever prayed their way across Edinburgh, Annabella did.

She saw no sign of Percy or the Mackinnon when she arrived and was shown into a small waiting room. She paced the floor, anxiously waiting, wondering. The sound of drums rolling drew her to the window. No , her mind screamed. It can’t be happening. They can’t hang him. They can’t.

But they were.

She watched in horror as the tall, dark-haired man she loved above life itself walked slowly across the yard toward the gallows.

She began screaming, pounding her fists against the window, pulling at the bars—doing everything she could think of to stop this madness.

He was a free man, released to his grandfather’s care until they could schedule a hearing.

The advocate and the judge had said so. They couldn’t hang him.

When he put his foot on the first step, she knew she could endure no more and turned away.

Ross would be dead before she left the building.

He would be as dead as Gavin. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

The future stretched before her like a long black ribbon with Lord Huntly waiting like a jailer at the end.

Nothing could save her from Huntly now. Proving Ross’ innocence was not the same thing as implicating Huntly.

Huntly would go free, unless he confessed, something she could not see a man like him doing.

There was only one chance. If she confronted Huntly and made him think they had proof against him, she might be able to use that as leverage to get him to agree to dissolving the marriage agreement between them.

She didn’t remember much after that, except that it was like a nightmare, where she saw dark, shadowy visions of herself leaving the room, stopping for a moment to ask a guard how long it would take to go to a place near Aberdeen called Stonehaven, and telling the driver of the coach to take her there.