The Ardmore Inheritance by Rob Wyllie (reading the story of the .txt) 📕

'Aye ma'am, with none of the above,' Frank grinned. 'Maggie's compiled the entire story for us, from start to finish. But it's a long one, so we'd better order our food and get the drinks flowing first, don't you think?'

Of course, no-one disagreed with that, and there was general hilarity when Frank finally decided on the haggis, the young waitress merely raising a discreet eyebrow when he asked for an extra portion of the sauce on the side. Maggie gave him a fond smile. Once again, she reflected that Frank Stewart was one of life's good guys. Kindness had been baked into him from birth, and it manifested itself in every human interaction. It was just a shame he was so bloody hopeless when it came to matters of the heart. But later, when she was three or four chardonnays to the good, she might take matters into her own hands. She looked across the table to where Jill Smart had been careful to position herself next to Jimmy. Where it looked as if she too was planning to take matters into her own hands, and sod the near ten-year age gap. But all of that would have to wait until later. Three chardonnays later, minimum.

'Ok then,' Maggie said, taking a generous sip from her glass, 'let's start with Commodore Roderick Macallan, shall we? Not a nice man by any measure, and a man who liked to use his powerful position to his own advantage. A power he decided to use when he found out that Mrs Morag McKay was desperate for her husband to be given a shore-based posting. It seemed that after their daughter Isabelle had come along, she had been suffering from post-natal depression, made much worse by her husband's long spells at sea. So the predatory Commodore saw his opportunity. Quite simply, he offered to fix it for her husband in exchange for sex.'

'That's disgusting,' Jill said. 'What an evil man.'

'Yes he was,' Maggie agreed, 'and according to his wife, he had a long history of using his position to prey on vulnerable women. But it all started to unravel for him when Morag began to suffer terrible remorse for what she had done. That's when she decided for her own peace of mind she had to make a full confession to her husband.'

'And that's how our boy Geordie comes into it,' Frank said, 'or Communications Officer Daniel Clarkson to give him his proper title.'

Maggie nodded. 'That's right. He was the communications guy on board HMS Azure and because of the need for security, all comms to and from the submarine went through him.'

'Packet-encrypted technology,' Frank said, adopting a smug smile, 'at least that's what wee Eleanor told me they used. Basically a big bunch of coded stuff is sent to them about once a week and super-powerful encryption computers on the sub de-code it. It's a bit like that Enigma stuff from the war, but without the cogs and wheels.'

'I'm impressed,' Jimmy said, laughing, 'but you don't really understand a word of what you just said, do you?'

'Not a word,' Frank admitted, 'but in a nutshell, it means that Clarkson got to see all incoming comms traffic, which is how he found out about what Morag McKay and the Commodore had been up to, or to be more precise, what she had done for him.'

'Exactly,' Maggie said, 'and of course this information was absolute dynamite for a natural blackmailer like Clarkson. So we assume Macallan is surprised one morning to receive a communication from Clarkson on board Azure that says unless we can come to a satisfactory arrangement, I'm going to blow your secret.'

'Right,' Frank said, 'and that's when the Commodore sees his opportunity. By recruiting Clarkson, he was able to hatch the plan to silence Morag and frame her husband James for the murder at the same time.'

'Yes,' Maggie agreed, 'so he came to an arrangement with him. A hundred and twenty grand payment for keeping his mouth shut, a sum that would set him up very nicely when he left the service. But there were conditions attached.'

'That would be the falsifying of these e-mails between Morag and her husband?' Jimmy asked.

'Yes, exactly. Clarkson doctored the e-mail trail and instead of her confession, what James McKay learnt from his wife was that she intended to leave him and take little Isabelle with her. So of course he was distraught, and his anguish grew with every subsequent fake e-mail he received.'

'Until he finally lost it and threatened to kill her,' Jill said.

'Well yes ma'am, except we don't think he ever did make that specific threat,' Frank said. 'Remember, the whole conversation was being concocted by Clarkson. It was pure fiction. Both ways, to and fro. But what it did succeed in doing was to make sure that as soon as Azure docked in Ardmore base, James McKay would rush straight home to try and sort things out with his wife.'

Jill gave a rueful look. 'Where he was snared by that elaborate frame-up. I just can't imagine what it must have been like for him, walking into that scene of utter carnage.'

'Yes, it's impossible to imagine,' Maggie said. 'But of course, then he's apprehended at the scene and arrested, and when the police subsequently produce the email trail as evidence of clear motive, he of course denies having ever seen any of it before. Which naturally sounds ridiculous, even before Daniel Clarkson pops up at the trial as an expert witness and says it's impossible. Impossible that it was faked I mean.'

'Aye, the whole thing was brilliantly conceived by Macallan,' Jimmy said. 'Even down to him testifying that Lieutenant McKay had been suffering from mental health issues. The poor guy was stitched up good and proper.'

'But surely there was a chance that Macallan would be caught out by the forensic evidence?' Jill said, looking puzzled. 'Because