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Hamish’s mobile rang. It was Jimmy Anderson. “I just heard the shout,” he said. “What’s been going on?”

“Three men came to kill me,” said Hamish. “I think you’ll find they had something to do with Freddie Ionedes. I’ve got something to wrap up here. I’ll be over to Strathbane as soon as I can.”

Hamish made his way quickly back to the games, fending off the excited questions from Pat Constable.

John Morrison came running to meet him. “Have you gone mad?”

“Look, John, I’ve got gun permits up to my ears. I felt I wass in danger. But I can hardly tell them I had a sixth sense that I was in danger.”

John broke open the rifle, sniffed the barrel, and unloaded it. “You’ve fired it.”

“Do this for me and I’ll buy it,” said Hamish, thinking miserably of his dwindling bank balance. “I’ll come over to Dingwall soon and pick it up.”

“They’ll come down on me like a ton of bricks for having let you run off with a loaded rifle.”

“I don’t think they will. Not if you say what I’m going to tell you to say…Please?”

“Oh, all right.”

“I want you to say that I was examining the deer rifle and you had just showed me how it loaded when I turned and saw the three men in the crowd. One of the men’s jackets blew open, and I could see he had a gun. I guessed they had come for me. I wanted to avoid a shooting match in the middle of the games, and that is why I ran off.”

“Where are you going now?”

“Strathbane.”

“Before you go, a cheque or credit card would be welcome. That’ll be five hundred and twenty-five pounds.”

At police headquarters in Strathbane, Hamish was told that there would be a full enquiry into his shooting of the two men.

He groaned inwardly. Three gunmen had come after him, and yet he was the one who was to be investigated. He had endured a grilling from Daviot and had been told to wait for further questions.

He sat in the canteen and brooded over a cup of coffee, which tasted every bit as evil as the stuff he had at home.

He brightened up when Pat Constable came to join him. “I just heard you’ve got permission to go back to Lochdubh,” she said. “But you’re to report back here in the morning.”

“I suppose our date’s off,” said Hamish.

“On the contrary. It’s only seven o’clock. I’m off duty. Let’s just go.”

Hamish began to relax over the meal. Pat was cheerful, undemanding company. Occasionally one of the locals would approach their table, eager for details of the shooting, but Pat fended them off with, “Leave the man alone for now. He’s had a bad shock.”

“The fact is, I haven’t,” said Hamish. “It all seems like a dream now.”

“You’ll probably suffer from a wee bit of delayed shock tomorrow,” said Pat. “Let’s just go back to that nice police station of yours and go to bed.”

Hamish could hardly believe his ears. “Oh, you mean, it’s time I went to bed,” he said cautiously.

She grinned cheekily. “No, I meant we. I’m propositioning you, Hamish Macbeth. We’re both single, and we’ve both had a hard day. We deserve some fun.”

“Just like that!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have…er…and Patel’s is closed.”

“I have. Come into the twenty-first century, Hamish. Women don’t wait around to be asked any more.”

Back at the police station, while Pat used the bathroom, Hamish went into the police office. He looked thoughtfully at his answering machine. Then he unplugged it. He was not going to risk either Priscilla or Elspeth phoning him and spoiling things. Would it all be as casual as it seemed? Or would she expect some sort of commitment?

The hell with it, he thought. He had been celibate long enough.

Freddie Ionedes sat on the bed in his cell and looked up at his lawyer, Simon Devize, otherwise known behind his back as Sleazy Simon.

“I want that Macbeth dead,” he said. “Tell Brandon.”

Brandon was his second in command.

“Brandon is going to point out that six of our people are already in the slammer thanks to your vendetta,” said Simon.

“He’ll do as he’s told,” growled Freddie. “Get on with it.”

Simon left the prison and got into his car and drove off. In his rear-view mirror, he saw a black BMW following him. When he considered he was safely clear of the prison, he stopped and got out. The BMW stopped behind him.

Simon went up to it. The passenger window lowered, and Brandon stared at him. “Well?”

“His orders are you’re to go after that highland policeman again.”

“He’s mad. Look, I’m in charge now. Tell him okay on your next visit. Keep him happy. He’ll die in prison. Someone’s got to run the show. But between ourselves, I’m not going to lose any more men. Got it?”

“I’ve got it.”

Hamish slowly came awake. He felt a warm body next to his own and smiled sleepily, turned over, and threw an arm around his cat.

“What the hell!” He sat up in bed. The animals had been banished from the bedroom the night before.

There was a note on the pillow next to his own. He read, “Got to go on duty. See you later. Thanks for a great night. Love, Pat.”

Could it be as easy as that? he wondered. No demands to see him again. No waiting around until he woke to make him breakfast.

He stretched and yawned, looked at the clock, and let out a yelp of horror. It was ten o’clock in the morning.

He had a hurried shower and shave and put on his uniform and had just finished when the kitchen door opened and Jimmy Anderson strolled in.

“Are they screaming for me?” asked Hamish.

“No, they’re too thrilled with the men you captured. They’re singing like canaries. Oh, what’s this note on the table? It says, “Got you some decent coffee. Love and kisses, Pat.” Well, well, well. Would that be Pat Constable?”

Hamish flushed angrily and snatched the note. “No, Pat is a frisky old lady in the village that sometimes gives me wee presents.”

“I should have known you wouldn’t be that lucky. Scotland Yard’s coming up again. Blair is ferreting around to see if he can take the credit for something.”

“How are the two I shot?”

“They’ll live. One clean shot through the arm on one, and one shot in the hip on the other. Blair tried to tell Daviot you were lucky. I pointed out you’d won shooting prizes all over the Highlands.”

“I hope it’s over and Freddie won’t send any more goons after me.”

“With all the information pouring out of the three, I think Freddie’s going to find his empire is being wound up in a few weeks’ time. I don’t think you’ve anything to worry about.”

“I’d better get over to headquarters,” said Hamish.

“Take your time. Everyone’s trying to get a bit of the action and keep you out of it.”

Hamish followed Jimmy’s car over to Strathbane. All he could think of was seeing Pat again.

But as he drifted around the building that day, waiting to be interviewed again, he could not see her. By early evening, he was sitting in the canteen again, deciding to ask for permission to go home, when Pat suddenly appeared. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “How are you, lover boy?”

“Great. Just about to ask permission to leave. No one seems to want to ask me any questions. I suppose I’d better enjoy it because when the enquiry comes along, I’ll have to suffer hours of questioning. Are you off duty?”

“Just finished.”

“What about coming back with me?”

“Can’t, Hamish. I’m nipping down to Inverness to see my boyfriend.”