The Address

Emma found Fiona Kerr's business website after checking several public records. The office was outside Inverness. It offered accounting services to small organisations, but there was no photograph of Fiona and no mention of the Glenarraidh Education Trust.

Emma checked the address and telephone number carefully. She wanted to contact Fiona at work, not disturb her at home. Fiona had once worked with the trust's accounts, but Emma did not know what she might remember.

On the table were two sets of documents. Ailsa's scholarship letter described an award. Calum's emails described a payment that might have been delayed. The papers did not prove the same thing. Emma drew a line between their dates, then crossed it out. She did not want to create a connection simply because she hoped to find one.

She called the number. A woman answered.

“Is that Fiona Kerr? My name is Emma Fraser. I'm a journalist investigating the Glenarraidh Education Trust.”

“I don't work there any more,” Fiona said.

“I know. I'm checking scholarship payments from 2010 and 2011.”

“Then read their accounts.”

“I have. Some figures don't seem to agree.”

“Questions aren't evidence.”

“That's why I'd like to speak to you.”

Fiona asked how Emma had found her number. When Emma explained that it was on the business website, Fiona told her to contact the current trustees and ended the call.

Emma wrote down the conversation immediately. Fiona had refused to help, but that did not make her guilty of anything. Perhaps she was busy. Perhaps she did not trust journalists. Emma could understand the second possibility.

She returned to the trust's reports. The brochure listed scholarships when they were offered. The accounts listed money when it was paid. Those dates might be different for perfectly ordinary reasons.

At lunchtime, Sarah called. Emma explained the problem.

“Ask the trust how an offer becomes a payment,” Sarah said. “And please eat something. You've been talking about accounts for ten minutes.”

Emma looked at the sandwich she had forgotten beside her laptop.

“I'll eat it at three.”

“That's not lunch. That's a late apology to lunch.”

Emma laughed. Later, she drafted three questions for Fiona, deleted two, and emailed her with a more limited request. She asked whether Fiona had handled the scholarship accounts and offered to agree the conditions of any conversation in advance. She did not mention Claire or the mysterious letter.