kitchen, where they scraped the contents into the rubbish bin. Hamish picked up a pot and took it over to the sink and washed it thoroughly. He began to scramble eggs while Miss Gunnery made piles of toast.
It was voted the best breakfast they had ever had and was eaten deaf to the speech made by Mr Rogers that they would all have to pay for the extra eggs.
“Put on the radio over there,” said Dermott, “and let’s hear the news.”
Hamish looked anxiously at Doris. “Do you think you can stand it?”
She nodded. Andrew reached across the table and took her hand and pressed it.
Hamish switched on an old–fashioned radio in the corner, the kind featured in old war documentaries with families listening to Churchill talking about fighting them on the beaches. It crackled into life in time for the nine o’clock news. “Police have discovered the remains of three bodies in the garden of a house in Tanwill Road, Perth,” said the announcer. “The house belongs to a builder, Frank Duffy, The area has been cordoned off and police are appealing to the public to stay away. We will bring you an update as soon as we have further news. An IRA attack on Heathrow Airport was foiled when…” And so the news went on without a single mention of Bob Harris.
“Have the police here asked for press silence on our murder?” asked Dermott.
Hamish switched off the radio and sat down again. “A man being hit on the head and pushed into the water is as nothing compared to these Perth murders. The only reason there were so many press around last night was because there was nothing much else going on. At least it means we’ll get peace and quiet today.”
“Whit?” Cheryl and Tracey looked at Hamish in comic dismay. “Whit about us? We want our photos in the papers.” Cheryl went to the window and looked out. “Not a soul,” she said in disgust. “And we got up at dawn tae get ready.”
“I think we are forgetting our manners,” said Miss Gunnery severely. “Doris, I am sure you know you have our deepest sympathy.” This statement was followed by rather shamefaced murmurs all round. And yet it was hard to feel sorry for Doris. She was now free of a dreadful husband.
“A police car’s jist arrived,” said Cheryl, still looking out.
After a few moments the door of the dining room opened and Deacon came in. “Tracey Fink and Cheryl Gamble,” he said, “I must ask you to accompany us to the police station.”
“It’s a fit-up. You cannae pin this one on us,” said Cheryl, whose home in Glasgow had satellite television.
“You were heard by some of the lads at the dance saying as how ye would like tae bump someone off tae see whit it felt like,” said Deacon. “Come along. Ye’ve a lot of explaining to do.” He turned to Hamish. “And I haven’t finished with you by a long chalk. None of the rest of you leave Skag without permission.”
Protesting their innocence, Cheryl and Tracey were led out.
“I think we’d all feel more at ease with each other,” said Hamish into the following silence, “if we all got together and said where we were yesterday afternoon. Bob Harris was seen at two o’clock on the jetty by that fisherman and he says when he looked out half an hour later, there was no sign of Harris. So if we move through to the lounge, we could explain to each other where we all were at that time.”
“And I think Doris has just as much as she can take at the moment,” protested Andrew.
But Doris said in a small voice, “Don’t you see, we’ve got to know? I don’t mind.”
And so they all went through to the lounge and sat round in a circle.
“Maybe we’ll start with Doris and let her get it over with,” said Hamish.
In a flat voice, Doris described her day. “I knew Bob was livid with me over protecting Hamish. I was terrified. I had never really stood up to him before. So I simply ran away. I did not go into Skag. I went the other way, along the empty beach. I walked miles. I didn’t have any lunch and I turned back and began to think that even this boarding-house tea might be bearable. I knew I had to face Bob sometime or other and suddenly I wanted to get it over with. There’s no point asking for witnesses. There weren’t any. I didn’t come across anyone.”
“I’ll go next,” said Andrew. “I went after Doris. But I thought she might have gone to Skag. I went into a shop around lunch-time and bought a sausage roll and a carton of orange juice and sat on the bench outside and ate them. I didn’t want to come back here. I wanted some time to myself. The shopkeeper should remember me, but the murder happened later. I didn’t go near the jetty. I was beginning to hate this place. The only reason I came here was because it was cheap. I lost a lot of money on a stupid business venture after I was made redundant from the army. I began to wonder what I was doing in the wilds of Scotland in a seedy boarding-house. I hated Harris. I’m glad he’s dead, but I didn’t kill him. Someone must have seen me, apart from that shopkeeper. In the afternoon, I walked a little way out of Skag in the direction of the town. Cars passed me on the road, but as I didn’t know a murder was taking place, I didn’t take note of licence plates or anything like that. Then, because most of Skag is on the dole, I think the residents who were not at the fair were indoors watching soaps on television. That’s all I have to say.”
Hamish looked at Dermott. “Were you all together yesterday?” he asked.
“Yes, we went into Skag and bought stuff for a picnic and took the kids to the beach,” said Dermott, “just along from the boarding-house. We were there all day.”
Hamish’s sharp eyes noticed the way the children sat very still and quiet and how June looked steadily at the floor. He’s lying, he thought suddenly. Instead he said aloud, “Did anyone see you?”
“Mr Rogers might have seen us. He came out just after lunch-time and got in his car and drove off in the direction of Skag. I saw him through my binoculars.”
“Miss Gunnery?”
“I seem to have had the same uneventful day as the rest of you,” said the schoolteacher. “I went for a walk into Skag after lunch-time. I was getting bored. I thought I would see some of you in the village. I took a look around and then came back here and sat in my room and read a book. When you didn’t come back, Hamish, I took the key to your room and then took Towser out for a walk.”
Obviously, thought Hamish, the police had not told the others of Miss Gunnery’s tale of sleeping with him. He had a sudden longing for his own police station and his own phone. If one of these people had murdered Bob Harris and that someone was not his wife, then there might be a clue in their backgrounds.
He stood up abruptly. He wanted to get away by himself. There were Mr and Mrs Rogers still to question, but they could wait.
“It looks as if not one of us has a decent alibi,” he said, standing up. “I’m going for a walk.”
“I’ll come with you.” Miss Gunnery got up as well.
“Not this time,” said Hamish. “I want to think.”
“Sit down, Hamish,” said Andrew sharply. “We haven’t heard your story.”
“Sorry,” said Hamish, feeling sheepish. “I forgot I wasn’t on duty. I went into Skag. I bought a couple of books and spent the day reading them on a bank of the river on the far side of Skag. I don’t know if anyone saw me. You see, people in Skag don’t know who we are and they wouldn’t have bothered to take any particular notice of any of us, them not knowing there was going to be a murder. Then around tea-time, I went and bought a fish supper and took it to the jetty to eat. I finished it and went to look over the edge of the water. That’s when I saw Harris. I tried to revive him even though I was pretty sure he was stone-dead. Sorry, Doris.”
“But why should the police think you a suspect when you’re a policeman yourself?” asked Dermott. “And considering you were trying to save the man?”
“During the questioning, Deacon told me that they thought I had dragged the body clear to cover any clues and then had tried to revive Harris to throw them off the scent. I’ll go for a walk and see if I can think of something.”
Hamish collected Towser and went outside. “Where are you going?” demanded Crick, who had replaced Emett to take over guarding the boarding-house. “We havenae finished with you.”
“I’ll be back,” said Hamish. “I’m chust taking my dog along the beach for a bit.”
“Well, see you don’t go far,” said Crick sourly.
Hamish walked sadly away. Not only had the local police found out that he had been demoted from sergeant but that he was the type of man who seduced otherwise respectable spinsters, for Miss Gunnery, even with a layer of make-up, always succeeded in looking just what she was, a retired unmarried schoolteacher.
With Towser loping at his heels, he walked away along the beach. Pink shells sparkled in the blowing white sand and the wind had risen again. The waves were choppy, blown blue and black with fretting white caps. A sun- blackened piece of seaweed blew against his legs.
He sat down and considered the case. As it stood at the moment, the only one with a motive was Doris. It
