'You're going to say that last night is to be forgotten,' said Hamish.
'Well, yes. We've got a job on and we cannot have any emotional involvement.'
'Very well, ma'am.'
There was an awkward silence. Hamish switched on the television. It was the local news. 'A body was recovered from the harbour at Strathbane this morning,' said the announcer. 'Police are not revealing the identity of the dead man until relatives have been informed. Foul play is suspected.'
'Find out who that was,' said Hamish.
'Why?'
'We're involved in a drug scam and suddenly there's a dead body. I'd like to know who it is.'
Olivia phoned Daviot, who said he would phone back. 'I think we're both worrying too much, Hamish.'
'I've suddenly got a bad feeling,' said Hamish. 'Dammit, I know there's something gone wrong.'
The phone rang, making them both jump. Olivia answered it, listened, said thank you and rang off. 'He was a small-time crook called Callum Short.'
'Could they get a photograph of him over here?'
'Why, Hamish?'
'Chust a hunch. Please, Olivia.'
Olivia rang again and asked for a photograph of the dead man. 'I hope you're not cracking up,' she said to Hamish.
'How did he die?'
'He was strangled.'
'I'm worried.'
'But why?'
'I'll tell you when I see that photo.'
Olivia had ordered breakfast but Hamish picked at his.
After an hour, there was a knock at the door. 'That'll be the photograph,' said Olivia.
She swung open the door.
Jimmy White's henchmen walked in. Both held guns. One said, 'You'll put on your coats and come with us. One movement, Macbeth, and we'll shoot her first in the stomach.'
They put on their coats. 'And look cheery about it,' the taller of the two growled. 'One sign to alert anyone and she's dead.'
Numbly they walked downstairs. Outside, there was a long black car. The door swung open. 'In the back,' they were ordered. They climbed in. Jimmy White was sitting there, holding a small pistol.
'Where are you taking us?' asked Hamish.
'Shut your face,' said Jimmy.
The car sped on out of Strathbane. Hamish held Olivia's hand. How had they been unmasked? Was it something to do with that body in the harbour?
Then he realised they were heading for Lochdubh.
'You taking me home?' he asked Jimmy.
'Aye, we did some checking up on you. I've been up all night,' said Jimmy. 'Highland copper who loves the place. So you'll die there.'
'Man, everyone will know you killed us!' said Hamish. 'You'll have all the police looking for you.'
'I'll be on my way to South America tonight,' said Jimmy. 'And I want everyone to know I did it. Nobody messes wi' me. I was thinking of retiring anyway.'
The car cruised down to the harbour at Lochdubh. Hamish could see Jimmy's high-powered boat in the harbour.
'As I said, I checked up on you,' said Jimmy. 'You're supposed to be taking a wee holiday. So as part of your holiday, you're coming on a sail with me. You're the only copper in Lochdubh, so there won't be any more of the fuzz around. Nobody likes a policeman, so the villagers wont be much interested in what you do. But just in case you try to warn any of them, they'll be killed.'
He's mad, thought Hamish. Stark staring mad. And yet, he'll get away with it. Dump me and Olivia at sea and head off to France or Amsterdam and disappear.
The car stopped on the harbour. 'Get out,' ordered Jimmy. 'You men, keep the guns concealed, but shoot if you have to. Hughie'-to the driver-'take this car away and lose it.'
Hamish got out of the car and then helped Olivia out. He took a longing look at Lochdubh. If I ever get out of this alive, he thought, I'll never leave the place again.
'Hamish!' He froze.
Angela Brodie was hurrying along the waterfront towards them. 'Get rid of her fast,' snarled Jimmy.
'Why, Hamish,' said Angela, coming up to him, 'you're looking very grand. Won the lottery?'
'No, thrift shop,' said Hamish.
'You'll need to tell me which thrift shop and I'll go there myself,' exclaimed Angela.
'I've got to go,' said Hamish, conscious of Jimmy's gun in his ribs. 'I'll call on you when I get back.'
Angela looked from one to the other. Why didn't Hamish introduce her and why was that woman with him so white-faced and frightened?
'Your sheep are all right, Hamish,' she said. Jimmy was urging Hamish away from her.
'What about the black one?' asked Hamish over his shoulder. 'It's sick. I think it's going to be put down. See you.'
Another jab from the gun. Hamish and Olivia went down the stone steps to the large white cruiser which was Jimmy's boat. They were urged down into the cabin. 'Tie them up and let's get out of here,' said Jimmy.
'What are you going to do with us?' asked Hamish as their hands and feet were bound.
'Weight you down and throw you overboard,' said Jimmy. 'Like I said, I was going to retire and this will be my last great up-yours to the coppers. No one makes a fool out o' Jimmy White.'
He jerked his head to the two henchmen. 'No need to guard them. Let's go up on deck. The smell of police gets up my nose.'
'What went wrong?' Olivia said through white lips when she and Hamish were alone.
'Someone blabbed.'
'Who?'
'Someone at Strathbane.'
'You mean police headquarters? Surely not. Maybe someone recognised you.'
'I didn't go out of the hotel without my hat and dark glasses on. I took them off the day of the picnic, but only for the picnic. There's a lot of drunkenness in the police force and they consort with their informers.'
'Whoever did this must have known we would be killed.'
'Maybe not. Maybe they thought that the whole business would be aborted and that we'd all be left with egg on our faces.'
'Hamish, I'm terrified.'
He leaned forward and kissed her. It was all he could do. His mind went this way and that, but he could not see any hope for them. He was glad of the pain from the wire binding his wrists and ankles. It took his mind off, just a little, from his forthcoming death.
Then he cocked his head. 'Listen, another boat.' He listened again. 'Sounds like a fishing boat.'
'Ahoy there,' called a voice.
'Get your boat away, man. You're right across our bows.'
'I've run out o' baccy,' whined the other voice.
'Archie Macleod, by all that's holy,' said Hamish.
'Who's he?'
'Local fisherman. What's he doing out this time of day? And he doesn't smoke.'
'Should I shoot him, boss?' One of the henchmen.
'No, I'll give him a packet of cigarettes. Go downstairs the pair of you and keep them quiet. Don't want any shouts for help.'
'Bring your boat alongside,' yelled Jimmy.
' Verra kind of you, sir.'
