‘Magic. The Fabulous Four, the travelling comedy act who moonlight as polis in their spare time.’ He stood up. ‘There’s a reason the missus doesn’t want any lippy bastards in here. We can do without your backchat.’
‘What lippy bastards?’ Harry asked.
‘Those hippies going to the music festival. It starts today. Friday through Sunday. The longest three days of my life. They get pished and start fighting, but by God do they spend their money. The wife won’t rent any rooms out to them. That’s why you have two rooms.’
‘Two?’ Dunbar said. ‘Me and him are colleagues, that’s all. Those two are married, so it’s fine for them.’
‘What do you want me to do? Let you bunk in with us?’ the man said.
‘What’s your name?’ Dunbar asked.
‘Crail Shaw. But my friends call me Boxer.’
‘Why’s that? You used to work in a factory filling boxes?’
‘Aye, son, just you hope you don’t find out why they call me that.’
‘They call him Boxer ’cause he’s got a face like a dug,’ a woman said, coming through from a back door. She looked a good bit younger than the man.
‘Aw, nice, eh?’ Boxer said. ‘Just let them think a woman can talk to me any way she likes.’
‘I can, you old fool. Bloody Boxer.’ She grinned at him. ‘But I love him. Bless ’im.’
‘Oh, shut up,’ Boxer said, leaving the reception area.
‘I’m Nancy Shaw. I own this place, along with Old Torn Face there. My husband. He was right about those layabouts who come to the island every year. They use the High Street like a toilet and we don’t have a police force big enough to deal with them. I’m glad they sent reinforcements.’
‘We’re not here for the music festival,’ Alex said.
‘I know, love. Clive Wolf got himself killed yesterday. Well, I think it was yesterday. I mean, I don’t know for sure and I don’t want to be a suspect. You know how rumours get around.’
‘I do that,’ Dunbar said, eyeing Evans sideways.
‘Word gets around in a little place like this. It’s put the wind up us, especially since it was one of the Wolf family.’
‘What are the family like?’ Harry asked.
‘Salt of the earth.’ Nancy looked at him. ‘I know that’s a well-used phrase, but it’s true. Everybody calls this Wolf Island, because without the Wolf family, this place would just be another rock in the Atlantic. They live on the north island. That’s where the big house is. Some of their smaller properties are there too, and they have a couple over here on the south island. They own the boat charter company, and the land where the music festival takes place is owned by the family.’
‘What’s the carnival up there?’ Alex asked. ‘I saw it from the plane.’
‘This is the big holiday weekend, when the music festival is on, but the fairground is on six months of the year.’
‘It seems like such a small place for a carnival to make money.’
‘Oh, dearie, you wouldn’t believe the people who come here in the summer. It’s quiet in winter, so we make the most of it in summer. We have tourists all the time. Beautiful beaches, a lot of birds for photographers to snap, water sports. You name it, we have it. It’s a hidden gem.’
‘I don’t think we’ll have a chance to try any of it out,’ Dunbar said, taking the key from her.
‘I heard you telling my husband that you’re just colleagues and don’t want to share a room,’ Nancy said. ‘I have a spare room that’s nothing more than a box room really. If one of you wants that? It’s not a room I rent out; I keep it for my nephew. He can’t make the music festival this year, so you can have it.’
Dunbar turned to Evans when he saw he wasn’t moving. ‘Go on then, Sergeant. Take the key. Don’t keep the lady waiting.’
Evans took the other key from her. ‘Thanks.’
‘Dinner’s included. Six till seven-thirty. I know you’ll be busy, but you’re welcome to eat.’
‘Thanks,’ Harry said.
A younger man came through from the back. ‘Hello there!’ he said, smiling. ‘I’m Brendan Shaw. Nancy’s my mum. The grumpy old sod is my dad. Let me help you up with your bags.’
‘That’s okay, fella,’ Dunbar said.
‘You sure? No problem. If you need anything, just shout. I just help out round here; I don’t work here full time. But if you need me, give me a shout.’
‘Will do.’
After checking in, they went to their respective rooms, but Dunbar just tossed his small case on the bed and walked straight back out. He knocked on Evans’ door and entered after getting a shout. Evans had his case open on the bed. He took out a tennis racket.
‘What’s that for?’ Dunbar asked.
‘Protection.’
‘Protection? You’re a bloody copper. You’ve got an extendable baton.’
‘I keep the racket at the side of my bed. In case of a break-in.’
‘You’ll be fine if Cliff Richard comes in wearing a ski mask, looking to tan your room.’
Evans propped it against the wall. ‘That’s much quicker than reaching for the baton.’
‘I pity Bernadette when she’s lying in bed with you and she asks you if you have protection and you whip out your tennis racket.’
‘People have been mugged in hotel rooms.’
‘I wouldn’t know. We only go places we can take Scooby. Nobody would get through the door.’
‘You should have brought him then.’
‘Don’t think I didn’t give it some consideration. Cathy’s old man will be feeding him fucking doughnuts. Poor wee sod will be double his weight when he comes back. I wouldn’t mind, but I’m the one who looks after him. Cathy doesn’t have to take him out last thing at night when he’s burstin’ for a pish.’
‘You wouldn’t be without him, though, boss, eh?’
‘Not for anything in the world, pal.’
Six
‘A room with a view. What else could we ask for?’ Alex said, putting her bag on the bed.
‘Oh, I don’t know; how about a swimming pool?’
‘When’s
