'So you encouraged him to go on a mushroom trip. When was that?'
'The day before he died.' She raised pleading eyes. 'Don't you see? I started him on the road back to drugs. I didn't mean to. I really didn't mean to. I didn't think I had done any damage. He told me he should never have taken the mushrooms. He said he never wanted to take any form of drug again, and I heard that pathologist say that one drug leads to another…'
For the first time, Sanders realised he was listening to the truth. And all she had said only went to confirm the idea that Tommy had gone back on heroin and overdosed. He had known reformed alcoholics hit the bottle again because they had taken a liqueur chocolate or some of Auntie's sherry trifle.
And it seemed as if the Church of the Rising Sun might be nothing more sinister than some sort of minor scam to dupe money out of the gullible.
Hamish Macbeth may as well chuck in his job and save the rest of his holidays for something better.
Hamish, meanwhile, had discovered that there were services every weekday evening between six and seven. Barry urged him to attend.
'I'll be there, but I don't have sexual problems,' said Hamish.
'But you see,' said Barry eagerly, 'although sex, I believe, is at the root of our problems, we share our other troubles. People take the subject from the person who speaks first. So you must speak of your depression and others will follow your lead.'
Hamish was sitting on the floor at the back of the hall that evening, waiting for the service, if it could be called that, to begin. There were fewer people than on Sunday, only about twenty-five. Just as Barry made his entrance from the kitchen to stand in front of them, Hamish sensed someone sitting down next to him and glanced sideways. Sanders!
'Now,' began Barry, raising his arms in a sort of benediction, 'before we begin, I must thank you all for your generosity. But'-he held up the collection box-'I am sad to say that some of you are not giving freely. To get in touch with God, you must cast aside material things. We will pray together and then the collection box will be passed among you for further contributions.
'Dear God, soften the hearts of your people so that they may give generously. You, dear Lord, know the paucity of the collection and you frown and your wrath is terrible.'
Hamish switched his mind away from the prayer and wondered instead what Sanders had found out to bring him to the church. Then there were those two supposed students Tommy had lodged with. He had their names and address in his notebook. Maybe go into town after the service and after he had heard what Sanders had to say. His thoughts ran busily on until the prayer was finished and the collection box came round again. He noticed a woman putting a twenty-pound note into it. When it came to him, he put in a pound. Barry would not expect him to afford any more. He was not paid until the end of the week.
He was looking up towards the ceiling and admiring the start of his paintwork when he became aware his name was being called.
'Hamish!'
Hamish started and looked at Barry Owen. 'Come forward, brother,' commanded Barry.
Feeling every bit the idiot Mrs. Owen believed him to be, Hamish went forward. He stood with his shoulders hunched and a vacant smile on his face. Then he saw that Mrs. Owen was not in the congregation and decided it would not be politic to act the empty-headed fool too much, as he had not pulled that act on Barry.
'Now, brother,' said Barry, 'tell us your troubles.'
'I suffer from depression,' mumbled Hamish, seeing a mocking grin on Sanders's face.
'Louder. The Lord must hear you!'
'I suffer from depression,' shouted Hamish, thoroughly embarrassed. 'Och, I cannae talk about it in front of all these people.'
'You will, when the spirit of the Lord enters you.' Barry reached up and laid his hands on Hamish's head. Hamish felt a shock like an electric current running through his body.
The superstitious Highland part of his mind wondered if Barry really did have healing powers. The police side wondered what electrical device Barry had hidden in the palm of his hand.
'Go and join your brothers and sisters and listen to their help,' said Barry.
Hamish thankfully hurried back to his place next to Sanders.
One by one, various members began to talk about how depressed they had been until they had joined the church.
Then to Hamish's amazement, Sanders leapt to his feet. 'I had been a sufferer from chronic depression for years,' he said, 'until the light entered my soul.'
'Hallelujah,' shouted a thin woman, clutching a shopping bag on her lap.
'And do you know why?' he shouted.
'Tell us!' urged the congregation.
'My sexual orientation was wrong, wrong,
'Ah.'' A sigh of satisfaction came from the congregation. Back to good old sex at last.
'I was locked in an unhappy marriage. I could not bring myself to touch her. She repulsed me. I prayed to the Lord. My brain cleared. I was gay. I would not admit that before, even to myself. My black cloud lifted and I saw the light.' Sanders smiled fondly down at Hamish, who glared at him.
'My brother here will come with me and I will explain in private how he might be helped.' He stretched down his hand. 'Come, brother Hamish.'
'Yes, go,' cried the congregation in a state of ecstasy.
Blushing as red as his hair, Hamish allowed Sanders to lead him out of the church.
'Well, hullo, sailor,' said Hamish bitterly.
'How else was I to get a private word with you?' said Sanders.
'So you can let go of my hand.'
'Such a nice hand,' said Sanders, patting it. 'You should see your face.'
'How did you know they would just let me walk out with you?' asked Hamish.
'Easy, I'd dropped in there before, undercover. Sex, always sex. They wank off just talking about it. So I knew if I got them back on their usual track, they wouldn't mind.'
'So what's this all about?' asked Hamish. 'How did you get on with Felicity?'
Sanders told him as they walked down towards the town.
Hamish felt depressed. 'So all that does is add evidence to the fact that Tommy did kill himself by accident.'
'Looks that way, and I think you're wasting time in that damn church.'
'Maybe something there,' said Hamish. 'Maybe they show blue films?'
'So what? Have you seen television lately? Even the BBC shows everyone screwing everything. Turn to the nature programmes for a bit of relief, and they've got animals shagging.'
'Are you gay?' asked Hamish abruptly. 'Not that it matters. I'm just curious to learn if the hidebound dinosaurs of Strathbane police have moved into the twentieth century.'
'No, but it was the best thing I could think of to get you out of there.'
'So what now?' asked Hamish. 'I suppose that's that. I might have a go at just one more lead.'
'What's that?'
Hamish told him about the two supposed students that Tommy had lodged with.
'I doubt if you'll find them still there,' said Sanders. 'Worth a try all the same.'
Hamish looked at him sharply. 'You mean you still think there was something funny about Tommy's death?'
'Yes. It's a gut feeling.'
'So are you going to come with me to see these two former friends of Tommy's?'
'No, I go on a lot of drug raids. They might be a couple I busted.'
'Then what about the people in the church, for heavens sake?'
'I checked them out as they went in. Nothing sinister there.'
'Oh, my,' moaned Hamish. 'I'm working at that church for nothing.'
'You mean they aren't paying you?'
'Aye, they're paying me, and I better look noble if I stay to the end of the week and put the money in the
