Marvin Roth put an arm around his wife’s shoulders to help her. “Didn’t mean to take you on a survival course,” he said. Amy shook his arm away and strode ahead of him up the path with long, athletic strides. Marvin hesitated, took off his cap, and passed a hand over the dome of his bald head. Then he replaced his cap and plunged after her.
“What’s up with you this morning, Miss Alice?” came Jeremy’s voice behind Alice. “Don’t I get a smile?”
Remember, ifs no use, Alice chided herself fiercely. Aloud she said, “I haven’t any energy to do anything other than try to keep up. It’s so hot. I didn’t think the Scottish Highlands would be so hot.”
“It’s like this sometimes,” said Jeremy, falling into step beside her. He was wearing a blue cotton shirt open at the neck, as blue as the sky above. He smelled of clean linen, aftershave, and masculine sweat. The heavy gold band of his wrist watch lay against the brand-new tan of his arm. Alice’s good resolutions began to fade.
“What did you think about our major’s little trick?” Jeremy went on. “Not quite the manner of the officer or the gentleman, as our Lady Jane would point out.”
“I think it was understandable,” said Alice. “It must have been a terrible temptation to lie. Only think the way people go on about cars and horses and…boats. It’s surely more in the nature of a gentleman to lie when it comes to sports.”
She gave Jeremy a rather hard-eyed stare. Alice’s better nature was trying to drive him away, but Jeremy only felt she had gone off him and was a little piqued.
“Didn’t you lie yourself?” he jeered. “Our gossip accused you of lying about the fish you were supposed to have caught.”
Easy tears rushed to Alice’s eyes. “I think you’re horrid. How can you accuse me of such a thing?”
“Hey, steady on!” Jeremy caught her arm. “There’s no need to fly off the handle like that.”
“I don’t know what’s up with me,” said Alice, scrubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “I think it’s that Jane female. She’s always hinting things in a spiteful sort of way.”
“You know,” said Jeremy, taking Alice’s hand in a warm clasp. “I don’t think we’ll ever see her again. I feel she’s taken the hint and left. No one can be that thick-skinned – it surely got through to her that not one of us can stand her.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. Alice’s mercurial spirits soared, and her resolution to forget about Jeremy whirled up to the summer sky and disappeared. After they had been climbing about a mile, and Amy Roth was loudly and clearly threatening to call it a day and turn back, John finally came to a stop. “Down here to the Keeper’s Pool,” he called, “and be very quiet.” The tangled undergrowth gave way at their side of the pool where a ledge of flat rocks hung over the water. The pool swirled and boiled like a witch’s cauldron.
It was a joy to watch John casting. He did a roll cast across the pool, landing the fly delicately on the surface. All at once, fishing fever gripped John and he forgot about his class. Suddenly, with a flash of silver scales, a salmon leapt high in the air. Alice clapped her hands in excitement, and everyone said, “Shhhhh.”
Now the whole class was as intense as their teacher. Then, just as John was casting, Charlie slipped and nearly fell into the pool. Heather shouted, “Look out!” and caught his arm. John turned to make sure the boy was safe, leaving his line tumbling and turning in the water.
He turned back once he had assured himself that Charlie was all right. He flicked at his line and his rod began to bend. “You’ve got one,” breathed the major.
“I don’t know…I think it’s a rock,” muttered John. He moved to another angle and tried to reel in his line. He had something heavy on the end of it, something that was twisting and turning.
His heart began to beat hard. Of course, if it wasn’t a rock, it could be a sunken branch, twisting and turning in the churning of the water. He moved back round to where the group was standing on the beach of rocks. Underneath the rock shelf the water was clear and still, a little island of calm just outside the churning of the pool.
He reeled in again, feeling his excitement fade as whatever it was that he had hooked moved from the turbulent water into the still shallows. A log, he thought.
And then Daphne Gore, the usually cool and unflappable Daphne, began to scream and scream, harsh, terror-stricken screams tearing apart the sylvan picture of pretty woods, singing birds, and tumbling water.
Alice stared down into the golden water directly below her feet as she stood on the ledge. And Lady Jane stared back.
Slowly rising to the surface came the bloated, distorted features of Lady Jane Winters. Her tongue was sticking out, and her blue eyes bulged and glared straight up into the ring of faces.
“She must have hit her head and fallen in,” whispered Alice, clinging to Jeremy.
John waded into the water, heaved the body up, and then let it fall with a splash. He turned a chalk-white face up to Heather. “Get Macbeth,” he said. “Get the police.”
“But didn’t she just fall?” asked Heather, as white as her husband.
John prodded at Lady Jane’s fat neck. “There’s a leader round her neck. She’s been strangled. And look.” He pointed to Lady Jane’s legs.
“Oh, God,” said Alice, “there’s chains wrapped round them.”
“She could have done it herself,” said Amy Roth through white lips. “Marvin. Help me. I feel sick.”
“Get the police, dammit,” shouted John. “And get that child out of here. The rest, stay where you are.”
“If it’s murder, we’d better all stay,” said Marvin, holding Amy tightly against him.
“Don’t be silly,” said Heather. “It took someone powerful to overcome a woman like Lady Jane and strangle her with a leader. Come along, Charlie. I’ll take you to your aunt’s and then I’ll bring Constable Macbeth.”
“Take me to your leader,” said Daphne and began to giggle.
“Can’t anyone stop her?” pleaded Amy.
“Pull yourself together, Daphne,” snapped John Cartwright.
“Steady the buffs,” urged the major.
Daphne sat down abruptly, pulled out a gold cigarette case, and extracted a cigarette with hands that trembled so much the cigarettes spilled out on the rock. Jeremy stooped to help her. Their eyes met and held in a long stare.
“Go up the hill and wait at the top,” commanded John. “I’ll stay with the body.”
Alice, Jeremy, Daphne, the major, and Marvin and Amy Roth made their way up the path. They moved, bunched together, along the upper path until it opened out into a small glade. They sat down in silence. Major Peter Frame pulled out a packet of cigarettes and offered them around.
Marvin was the first to speak. “I always knew that dame was a party pooper,” he said gloomily. “She’s worse dead than alive. She was murdered, of course.”
“Well, it wasn’t any of us,” said Alice. She tried to speak bravely, but her voice trembled and she rubbed at the gooseflesh on her arms.
“Yeah, she was the sort of woman anyone would have murdered, I reckon,” said Amy Roth shakily. “Was she rich? Maybe one of her relatives followed her up here and bumped her off.”
“By Jove, I think you’re right,” the major chimed in eagerly. “I mean de mortuis and all that, but she was a really repulsive, nasty woman. Look at the way she kept getting at each of us. Stands to reason she’d been doing the same thing to other people for years.”
“I suppose the holiday’s over,” said Daphne, looking once more her calm self. “I mean, what’s going to happen to us?”