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“Mr Ferrari said, ‘Thon bastard’s dead and gone, thank goodness. I’m glad I was saved from killing him myself.’ The other man said something I couldnae hear and then Mr Ferrari said, ‘After what he did to Lucia…’ And then I couldnae hear any mair.”

“So did you ask him about it?”

“I couldnae,” wailed Willie. “If there was something between her and thon monster, I don’t want tae know.”

“I’m beginning to think not knowing iss worse than anything else,” said Hamish, half to himself. “Help yourself to a whisky, Willie. I’ll ask Ferrari.”

“He’ll know I was listening!” cried Willie.

“True, but I’ll tell him you couldn’t help it.”

As Hamish walked along to the restaurant, he turned over the names of the staff in his mind. There was old Mr Ferrari, and Lucia, who acted as waitress. Conchita Gibson, another distant relative who had married a Scotsman who had died of cancer the year before; Luigi, the cook; Giovanni, the under-cook; and Mrs Maclean, Archie the fisherman’s wife, who came in daily to clean, made up the rest of the staff.

The restaurant was fairly busy, for its reputation had grown so much that many of the customers motored long distances to eat there and the prices were still low enough to tempt the locals.

Lucia welcomed Hamish with a dazzling smile. She really is a stunner, thought Hamish. Poor Willie. Not a hope in hell.

He asked for Mr Ferrari. Lucia disappeared and then returned and led him through the back of the restaurant and up a flight of stairs to the flat over the shop.

“Come in, Sergeant,” cried Mr Ferrari. “Have a drink, but don’t stay too long, because I’ve a lot to attend to.”

“No drink,” said Hamish, “chust a few questions. Willie was here this morning.”

“Grand lad, that. Should be in the restaurant trade.”

“Maybe. The fact is he wass sitting next to the fireplace and he could hear something of what you were saying upstairs.”

All the wrinkles on Mr Ferrari’s old face settled into a sort of hard mask from behind which his eyes peered warily out.

“All he could gather,” went on Hamish, “wass that you were glad someone had killed Sean or you might have done it yourself after what he did to Lucia. Now who were you talking to and what did Sean Gourlay do to Lucia?”

“Like the television set?” asked Mr Ferrari.

“If that wass meant as a bribe, then you can be having it back!” exclaimed Hamish. Mr Ferrari looked at Hamish steadily.

“Don’t you see you are making matters worse for yourself?” said Hamish. “Tell me the truth.”

“And you will not tell anyone?” Mr Ferrari demanded.

“Not unless it’s necessary, no.”

“It’s not a nice story. Lucia does not go out walking with any man without my permission. Sean asked her to go for a walk with him, she asked me and I refused. I did not want her tied to anyone who showed no signs of wanting to work. But he was a regular customer, although where he got the money from, I don’t know, and so he managed to speak to her…a lot. He was very handsome. So Lucia begged and begged to be allowed to go out with him, so I at last said she could on her day off, in the afternoon, but she was to be back at six o’clock. I sent Giovanni after them to keep watch. I tell you, Hamish,” he went on, “I’ve met a lot of bad people in my long life, and I had Sean marked down as a real bad one. But I couldn’t be sure. I kept wishing that wee lassie, Cheryl, had still been with him. Lucia wouldnae have dreamt of going out with him then.”

“So off they went and Giovanni set out after them. All excited he was, dodging in and out of doorways with a cap down over his eyes and a scarf over his mouth, and then creeping up the hillside. I thought Sean was bound to notice the idiot, but as it turned out, he did not.”

“They only went a little away up on the moor and they were sitting side by side on one of those big boulders. Giovanni crept up and lay in the heather behind them.”

“Sean began telling Lucia she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and she asked if he’d been in love with Cheryl and he gave her a spiel that Cheryl was a waif frae Glasgow he was being kind to and what had bit the hand that fed it and all that rubbish.”

“Then he suggested she go back to that bus of his. He said he had some good videos. But she said it was their first time out and wasn’t the view lovely and maybe another time and so on. Then he grabbed her and kissed her and Giovanni said he didn’t know what to do because she was enjoying it and it was only kissing. Then Sean began to unbutton her blouse and Lucia pushed him off, but he tumbled her on to the ground and I believe Giovanni when he said it could have been rape if he hadn’t been there. So Giovanni ups from the heather and shouts, ‘Stop!‘”

“He said Sean looked like the very devil, those cat’s eyes of his glittering in the light, and Lucia, she was crying her eyes out. Giovanni said he was right glad he’d taken the meat cleaver with him.”

Hamish suppressed a grin.

“So Sean saw that cleaver and began to run and Giovanni went after him and chased him right back to that bus. Then he told me. So we all went to see him, me and Luigi and Giovanni, and we told Sean Gourlay that if he came near the restaurant or Lucia ever again, we would cut his balls off. So that’s it.”

“You should have told me this before,” said Hamish.

“Why?” demanded Mr Ferrari. “None of us killed him.”

But Hamish left very worried. There was a field at the back of the restaurant and from the field it was possible to cut across the other fields and get to the one behind the manse. And yet how simple it would be for him if, say, Giovanni had done it. How he longed for an outsider. And yet, although Mr Ferrari and his relatives had only set up their restaurant a short time ago in the village, they had quickly become a valuable part of the local life. The small shack which served as a Catholic church was to be gradually replaced by a brick building, money supplied by Mr Ferrari. The restaurant had become a gathering place for local birthdays and wedding anniversaries.

At the police station, he told Willie what had happened. “I should’ve been there,” said Willie. “Not that Lucia cannae protect herself.”

“In what way?”

“She told me she was walking home and one o’ the forestry lads grabbed her and tried to steal a kiss.”

“And?”

“She kicked him in the family silver.”

“You mean jewels.”

“Whatever.”

Could Lucia have done it herself? wondered Hamish. She had been keen enough on Sean to beg Mr Ferrari to let her go out with him. Was she one of the women who had gone to the bus? Cheryl wouldn’t know, for Sean’s pursuit of Lucia had started after Cheryl had gone.

He shook his head wearily. “Did Mr Ferrari blame me for reporting it?” asked Willie anxiously.

Hamish shook his head. “As long as you go on neglecting your duties and giving him free labour, he won’t go off you.”

“It’s not as if anything ever happens in Lochdubh,” said Willie sulkily.

“Except murder,” said Hamish.

Hamish set out the next day to try to get his female suspects alone. He waited until he knew Dr Brodie would be at the surgery and went to call on Angela. He felt a pang of worry when he saw her. It was like that time when that woman had been murdered in Lochdubh, he thought, and Angela, who had been under her influence, had mentally gone off the rails. She looked now as she had then, thin and brittle.

“Not more questions,” said Angela when she saw him.

“I have to keep asking,” said Hamish patiently. “Can I come in?”