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“Unfortunately, I do. He had to give me an address to send on his stuff. I’ll write it down for you. He’s in Edinburgh.”

Hamish waited until she had written down the address and handed it to him.

“Would you say that your husband was capable of making a letter bomb?”

“I would say that my husband was not capable of even mending a fuse,” said Jocasta harshly.

“What about yourself?”

“The jealous wife? You can forget that. I was right off Bill even before I knew about Annie. In fact, I’m grateful to that conniving bitch. Makes it easy for me to get a divorce. What is a village bobby doing cruising around the countryside with a member of the rich and famous?”

“Do you mean Elspeth?”

“Who else?”

“Miss Grant is an old friend,” said Hamish stiffly. “When you were packing up Bill’s things, did you find anything like letters from Annie? Anything like that?”

“Nothing but a lot of unpaid bills that he said he had paid. Look, I am so fed up with him that if I had found there was even a hint of him being a murderer, I would have told you.”

When Hamish hurried back to the Land Rover, snow was becoming to fall, small pellets driven before the wind.

“Any joy?” asked Elspeth.

“Nothing there,” said Hamish. “We’d best get to Braikie while we can. The forecast is bad.”

He drove north through the whitening landscape. “I forgot it could get like this,” said Elspeth. “Yesterday was so glorious that I didn’t remember that up here, you can get five climates in one day. It’s getting worse. Are you sure you can see?”

“I’m all right. But I hope the gritters get their trucks out soon.”

By the time they reached Braikie, the wind had dropped, but the snow continued to falclass="underline" large white Christmas card flakes, each one a miracle of cold lace.

At the town hall, they found that Percy was not in his office. Iona, at the switchboard, said he had stepped out half an hour ago.

They searched around Braikie in the pubs, in the café, and at the post office, but no one had seen Percy.

Their search was slowed by people recognising Elspeth and asking for autographs.

“Let’s have something to eat,” said Hamish, “and then find out where Percy lives.”

They ate mutton pies and peas in the café and then drove back to the town hall. This time, Hamish asked Jessie Cormack if she knew where Percy had gone. She shook her head and said she had not seen him that morning. But she was able to give them his address.

Percy lived with his parents in a small, grey stone house on the outskirts of Braikie. A very thin woman with dyed blonde hair answered the door. She looked in alarm at Hamish. “Is my husband all right?”

“It’s Percy I’ve come about,” said Hamish. “He isn’t in the office. Is he here?”

She shook her head. “Why are you asking about him?” she demanded. “Has he done something wrong?”

“Nothing like that. He left a message saying he had some information for me. Did he say anything to you?”

“He left this morning as usual.” Her eyes widened in fear. “These murders! Do you think something has happened to my boy?”

“No, no. I am sure he will turn up. I’ll phone you as soon as I find him.”

“No joy,” said Hamish when he joined Elspeth in the Land Rover. “Where the hell can he have gone? We’d best go back and sit in his office and see if he turns up. I’ll need to let Sonsie and Lugs out for a run first.”

“What’s the point of having a great flap on your door if you’re going to take your beasties everywhere with you?” demanded Elspeth.

“You never liked them,” complained Hamish.

“I like them fine,” said Elspeth. “But to have to look after two peculiar animals in a snowstorm when you’re supposed to be detecting is ridiculous.”

Hamish glared at her.

He let the dog and cat out of the back and stood huddled in his coat while they chased each other through the snow. At last he called them back and drove back to the town hall.

When they sat down in Percy’s office, a bad-tempered silence reigned between them. Elspeth broke it by saying, “Now we’re here, what about searching his desk?”

“Oh, all right,” said Hamish sulkily.

He began to turn over every piece of paper on top of the desk and then began to go through the drawers. “There’s something here,” he said, holding up a videotape.

“Maybe Percy’s back at the police station waiting for you,” said Elspeth.

“I’ve got a video recorder. I’ll just be leaving a receipt for this.”

“I didn’t think anyone had video recorders any more,” said Elspeth.

“Well, now you know.”

Chapter Nine

*

Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame,

Gathering her brows like gathering storm,

Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

– Robert Burns

Back at the police station, Hamish, after he had lit the stove, said, “I’ll make us a cup of coffee and then we’ll have a look at this video. Strathbane won’t get out the men to look for Percy because they say he’s probably gone off somewhere with friends. I’ll just need to hope he’s all right and start searching in the morning.”

The lights went out. “Damn,” said Hamish. “The snow must have brought a cable down.”

“I saw a face peering in at the window when the lights went out!” Elspeth exclaimed.

Hamish ran outside with the dog and cat at his heels. The snow had stopped, but it was freezing hard. He could hear it crunching under the feet of someone fleeing over the hill at the back. He set off in pursuit and brought the fleeing figure down in a rugby tackle.

“It’s me, Josie,” squeaked a frightened voice from under him.

Hamish pulled her to her feet. “What were you doing looking in at the kitchen window?” he demanded.

“I wanted to see what your instructions were for tomorrow,” said Josie, close to tears. “I heard voices and thought I would look in the window and see if you were busy.”

“You could have knocked,” said Hamish angrily. “Get back to the manse and wait there until I phone you in the morning.”

Hamish returned to the station. Elspeth had lit a hurricane lamp and placed it on the kitchen table.

“Who was it?” she asked.

“It was Josie McSween, my copper. She was running off up the back way. She said she heard voices and wanted to see who it was.”

“Is she stalking you, Hamish? Where is she living?”

“Over at the manse.”

“So what’s she doing ploughing through the snow over the back way when she could have come round by the road?”

“She’s a bit daft, that’s all. It looks as if we aren’t going to have a chance to see thon video.”

“The hotel’s got a generator.”

“So it has. Let’s go.”

Hamish put out the lamp and lit a torch. “Hamish!” exclaimed Elspeth. “You don’t have to let Sonsie and Lugs come with you. Leave them here for once. The kitchen’s nice and warm.

“You can’t go on with those beasts chained to you,” she continued. “What woman would put up with rivals such as these?”

“You were aye jeering at them!”

“Don’t let’s quarrel,” said Elspeth. “Let’s get to the hotel.”

They were about to drive off when the Currie sisters appeared, standing in the glare of the headlights and waving their arms. Hamish lowered the window. “What’s up?”

“Tell Miss Grant the press are all at the hotel waiting for her,” called Nessie.

“Waiting for her,” chorused Jessie.

“Thanks,” said Hamish.

He turned to Elspeth. “They’ll all be in the bar. We’ll park at the side and go in through the kitchen door.”