Mairead ordered a glass of whiskey from the same serving woman and ignored the raised eyebrow she received, then returned to the matter at hand.

"'E's aboot two meters tall, 'is hair is same color as mine, an' 'e always said 'is nose was a nobby 'un. It's big'un, ah mean. 'E walks akin te a bear, all lumberin' and crashin' aboot, except when 'e's huntin', then 'e steps as soft as a wee jackrabbit." She leaned back in her chair for a moment and accepted the small glass of whiskey with a grateful nod to the serving woman, making note to tip her extra. "An' 'e was sick fer a good time befer he came 'ere. 'E refused modern medicine, though, so ye likely wouldnae find record o'im from any doctor."

He wrote things down as she spoke, nodding. "And you said he has been missing for four months... What was he doing right before he disappeared, do you know? How was he acting?" he asked without looking up. The barmaid brought their drinks and Marcus took a healthy pull of water. He eyed the girl with her whiskey and almost wrinkled his nose, but he was more interested in the case he was starting to build with her.

Mairead took a swig of the whiskey and grimaced as it burned down her throat, but she needed it, after the four hours of sleep she'd gotten last night. That should keep her going another few hours.

"'E was wanderin' a lot, got lost, even- Da never got lost, no'once in all ma life." Mairead frowned and pulled the note he'd left from her pocket. "'Ere's the note 'e left. Didn't give me much, but it's somethin'."

The note read, in Scots (which Mairead translated for the Inspector; she was only illiterate when the language wasn't Scots):
Maisie-
By the time you read this, I will be long gone to Whitby, on the coast of England. Do not come for me, for you will find nothing of what you expect. Grave things have happened to me, and I must seek out a remedy for this curse in whatever time I have left. Godspeed, my daughter, and may you one day keep our line and traditions going strong.
Odhran

Mairead pointed at the part where her father had mentioned 'keep our line and traditions going strong'. "'E always wanted me te settle down an'ave wee ones. I s'pose ah should follow 'is wishes if ah never see 'im again." Shaking her head at herself for going off on a tangent like that, Mairead moved her finger to the mention of a curse. "This could also mean 'spell' or 'disease', but me Da always spoke of witch's curses an' how he knew one day 'e'd come under one. Apparently, it's somethin' in our families history, we all die of a 'curse' or whatnae."

"I see..." he said after writing all this information down. "May I keep the letter for now? I will give it back later." And he meant it. Wee ones, eh? He wouldn't mind a bouncing babe of his own, but who could love him? He was an ugly man, so he thought, and not a lot of females even looked his way if he didn't have money to toss at them. "I have heard of curses and what not. There is a widow that came here not long ago, it is rumored her husband died of possession. I don't believe in all of that, but who is to say? In any case, I think I have enough information to get started on your case, Miss Dunlop."

Mairead smiled, her dimples brightening up her smile in somewhat of an attractive manner. It was really the only nice thing about her complexion one could see above her rough appearance. "Well innae that hoora class, min!" she exclaimed, highly pleased by his words, and blushed slightly when she realized he probably had no clue what that meant. She cleared her throat and added, somewhat explanatory but also earnestly thankful, "Ah mean, thank ye very much, Inspector, an' ah cannae thank ye enough fer listenin' te me and keepin' wit yer current profession to help me find me Da." Mairead stood up and slung her bow and quiver over her back from where she'd hung them on the back of the chair. "Where d'ye think ah should start lookin'?" Mairead, who could be described well as a go-getter, wasn't about to take the backseat despite her employing the aid of the Inspector.

He didn't understand what she said but that was alright. He noticed that she was actually more comely than she first appeared and gave her a once-over. "I would look for him at the inns first," he said softly and rubbed his forehead. "Perhaps someone might know something even if he isn't there?" It was always good to check the inns and taverns first because that was where the gossip was most of the time.

Mairead nodded. "Splendid idea." This was a phrase she'd heard many Englishfolk say when they approved of a plan or concept, so it seemed fitting for this situation. "Where an' when may ah find ye next?" Maybe they should take a few days to scout out what information they could, then meet up again here.

"Here is fine," he said and closed his notebook. "I will ask around, but I might need more coin to grease palms if you know what I mean. Sometimes information isn't free." And with that, he packed his book back into his messenger bag and gave her a look to see if there was anything else she wanted to bring up. If not, he was itching to go back to sleep and rid himself of the blasted hangover. There was no way he could work with the way his head was pounding.

Mairead got the hint and drew a pouch of coins out her many pockets. Anyone else might be nervous to carry almost cent they had on their person, but Mairead knew she could fight off any thief or other unfavorable sort. She thought of tossing the pouch to Inspector Tillman, but then thought better of it considering his hangover and placed it on the table before him. "Thank ye fer yet help. Ah do hope ye find helpin' me eis worth it." She stepped back from the table with a polite nod in farewell and turned to the front hall to pay the serving woman for the whiskey, then to the door to continue her sleep-deprived searching.