The Address

Fiona Kerr's business address appeared at the bottom of a modest website for bookkeeping services outside Inverness. Emma stared at the telephone number. The website offered payroll support and annual returns, the sort of work that seldom attracted a second glance unless something went wrong. There was no photograph of Fiona, and nothing about the trust. Emma had checked the company listing twice to make sure she was not confusing two women with the same name. She had also checked that the telephone number belonged to a business rather than a private household. A person could reasonably refuse to speak to a journalist; that did not entitle the journalist to invade her home.

She laid Ailsa's award letter beside Calum's emails and drew a line between the dates. Both accounts raised questions, but the documents described different stages of the payment process. The temptation was to place the two stories side by side until they appeared to prove each other. Emma had learned how easily a pattern could be created by the person looking for one.

She turned the phone over in her hands. Fiona might explain how the payments were recorded, or simply ask to be left alone. Emma took a breath and dialled. A woman answered with the business name.

"Fiona Kerr? I'm Emma Fraser, a journalist. I'm investigating the Glenarraidh Education Trust."

"I don't work there," Fiona replied.

"I understand. I'm looking at scholarship payments from 2010 and 2011."

"Then look at their accounts."

"I have. They raise questions."

"Questions aren't evidence."

"That's why I'm calling."

The line went quiet. Then Fiona asked where Emma had found the number. Emma explained it was public. Fiona told her to contact the current trustees and ended the call.

For a few seconds she held the silent phone and wondered whether she had asked the wrong question. Fiona had not denied knowing the trust's accounts. She had also not admitted that anything was missing. Her response might reflect caution, irritation or the simple fact that a working accountant had better things to do than revisit an old controversy.

Emma wrote down the exchange immediately. She could not treat Fiona's refusal as a sign of guilt. The distinction mattered: she had made that mistake with other people's silence fifteen years earlier.

Before lunch, Emma returned to the public records. The trust's brochure had listed awards under the year they were announced; the later financial statement used the year money left its accounts. She made herself write that distinction at the top of the page. If she failed to understand the bookkeeping, she could mislead readers even while quoting every figure accurately.

Sarah called at lunchtime. Emma explained the two student accounts and the unanswered questions about payment schedules.

"Ask them how an award becomes a payment," Sarah said. "And eat lunch. You've been describing spreadsheets to me for ten minutes, which is usually a sign you've forgotten."

Emma looked at the untouched sandwich beside her notebook. "It's still lunch if I eat it at three."

"That is a legal argument I refuse to entertain."

Emma drafted a short email to Fiona, offering a conversation on background with publication terms agreed in advance. She asked only whether Fiona had handled the trust's scholarship accounts. She did not mention Claire or the letter. Then she sent the email and returned to the documents.