She stood up when she heard something fall through the mailbox. Walking out into the corridor she frowned. The mail had already been delivered to her box down in the entrance hall. Had the mailman forgotten something? Who knew she had an old fashioned letterbox in her office door anyway?
She pulled open the door and looked out but there was no one there. On the floor at her feet lay an envelope addressed to her.
She picked it up, hardly daring to hope it might be a case. It was surprisingly heavy. There was something inside. Tearing open the back she reached in and pulled out a small silver key, the end monogrammed with the letter ‘M’ in swirling intricate metalwork like nothing she’d ever seen. The only other thing inside was a folded piece of cream paper.
Walking back to the office she unfolded the paper. It was a flyer for an open day.
MacGregor Castle celebrates eight hundred years since the buiding was completed.
Come join us for this historic occasion.
Free entry but donations appreciated for the upkeep of this historic property. Sunday, August 22nd 10am to 5pm.
Refreshments and souvenirs will be available for purchase.
In amongst the text were ink drawings of the castle itself. It looked a pretty enough place. She paused, frowning as she looked at the drawings again. A memory sparked inside her. She knew that castle. But where from?
She put the flyer down on the desk and examined the key again. No explanation, no letter to go with it. Just the flyer. Addressed to her in handwriting she didn’t recognize. It was a mystery.
She smiled. Maybe it was a case after all. The open day was in two days time. She did a mental calculation of the amount of fuel in her car. Would it make it to MacGregor Castle? Where was it anyway?
She booted up the computer and made a coffee while she waited for it to load. It wheezed into life just in time for her to stir in the sugar and then she was finally able to connect to the internet.
She’d learned long ago she had to act as if she didn’t care if the computer loaded or not. If she sat in front of it, nothing happened. It would obstinately slow down to glacial speeds while she cursed it and all its kind.
Then one day she happened to be boiling the kettle while it loaded and she turned back to find it ready to go. Since then, she’d worked it out. If she acted like she didn’t care whether it loaded or not, it would be ready to go as fast as lightning. Need it for something urgently and it refused to play ball.
Sometimes she even said out loud, “I don’t even need the computer for this.” Then she could be sure it would be ready and willing to work like an over eager puppy.
She sipped at her coffee while she looked up the castle. It was in the Highlands of Scotland, not too far from the Isle of Skye. Why had she been sent the flyer? What was waiting for her there? Why the key? What secret might it unlock? So many questions and no answers came to mind.
She looked into the history of MacGregor castle. One of the medieval fortresses of the Highlands, it had stood for centuries as the Clan MacGregor went from strength to strength, moving from the initial wooden buildings to a stone behemoth that dwarfed the surrounding countryside.
It had fallen into ruin in the early thirteenth century. From what she could work out the Laird and Lady at the time had retreated into their chambers when their daughter went missing. They left their steward in charge and he managed to ruin the clan and the castle within twenty years, throwing money around that they didn’t have.
The daughter was never found, just one more mystery never to be solved. She smiled as she imagined being a private eye back then. She’d have gladly taken on that case.
It seemed such a shame that a castle that had been looked after for generations could be ruined in less than one. The place had remained in ruins for centuries after that before some Victorian Laird had begun restoration work, turning the place into a country seat.
All of that was very interesting but didn’t explain why she’d been sent the key and the flyer. Still, she was a fan of history, and of Scotland. A little vacation wouldn’t do her any harm. It would mean she wouldn’t see any more bills arriving for a while.
She decided to write the day off. Unplugging the computer, she pocketed the key and the flyer before heading out of the office. Locking it behind her, she had the strangest feeling that she wouldn’t go back in there ever again. She shook the feeling away. It was nonsense.
She took the stairs rather the elevator, stepping out into heat that almost knocked her backward. At once she felt sweat forming on her back. She crossed the street and stopped at the convenience store on the corner.
Digging in her handbag, she found a couple of coins of indeterminate age. It was enough to get a loaf of bread and two cold cans of cola.
“Going home early?” Barry asked when she put her items down on the counter.
“Not much happening at the minute,” she replied. “How are you?”
“Still hoping you’ll solve the case of the lonely store owner.”
“I told you, Barry. You’re not my type.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re married with three kids.”
