"I can't believe it's so warm," said Olivia.
"It's the lack of pollution up here," replied Hamish. "The sun has nothing to block the rays. It'll be cold tonight, mind, with a sharp frost."
"There speaks the true countryman. What's the matter?"
There was a sudden wariness and stillness about Hamish.
"I don't think we're alone. Don't look round!"
"How do you know?"
"Chust a feeling."
"Probably tourists," said Olivia impatiently.
"Now we start to flirt," said Hamish. "Voices carry."
He raised his voice. "More champagne, darling?" He lowered his voice. "And take that suspicious look off your face. I am not using this as an excuse to make a pass at you."
"That would be lovely," said Olivia loudly. "If you've finished your pate, we'll start on this grouse."
Hamish smiled at her lazily and glanced idly around. His sharp eyes caught a flash of light up on the left bank. "We're being watched through binoculars. I'm going to kiss you."
"Is that necessary? Married men don't go around kissing their wives in public."
"Besotted ones do. Lean forward and pucker up."
Olivia leaned forward. His kiss was warm and gentle and strangely comforting. He shifted around the rock and gathered her in his arms. "Don't go too far," she whispered.
"I won't." He kissed her again. She relaxed against him. She began to return his kisses, feeling warm and languid in the sun, both of them forgetting the watcher, both of them locked in a little world far from drugs and danger.
Hamish stole a quick look up the hill. No flash from binoculars, but then through a screen of rowan trees, he saw a black car moving off. He wanted to go on kissing her but he knew his sensual pleasure in the feel of her lips and the feel of her body against his was slowly turning to passion.
"Our watcher has gone, Olivia," he said. "We can carry on eating."
She moved away from him and bent her head over the hamper. Her cheeks were flushed and her bosom rose and fell.
"I hope you realise that was all in the line of duty, Hamish."
"It was a pleasant duty, ma'am. Do you like grouse? I'll tell you about a famous grouse race where two men competed to see who could get the first brace of grouse of the season to London first and how it led to murder."
Olivia listened, grateful to Hamish for having easily got over what might have been an awkwardness.
When he had finished his story, she handed him a plate of grouse and said, "Who do you think was watching us?"
"Probably the Undertaker or one of Jimmy White's henchmen."
"I don't like it. They should not be so suspicious of us now."
"We're still an unknown quantity," said Hamish. "Let's talk about something else."
"Like what?"
"When I asked you if you'd ever been in love, you fair bit my head off. Why was that?"
"I'll tell you. If only to make sure you don't talk to the lads about snogging with a chief inspector."
She ate a mouthful of grouse. Then she said, "I was a detective constable, young, ambitious. He was a chief inspector called Fergus Shane. He was handsome and clever. At first I had a crush on him, that was all, you know, like a schoolgirl crush. Then one evening I had been working late on a case and I had just filed my report when he came in. He asked me if I had eaten and when I said I hadn't had the time, he took me out for dinner. Over the first dinner, he told me he was married. That cooled me down. After that, a few weeks passed and again I was working late and again he asked me out for dinner. He said his wife was away visiting her sister in Elgin. It seemed like just a friendly invitation."
The sun went behind a cloud and there was a sudden chill in the air. She shivered and hugged her knees. "He told me he was getting a divorce. There were no children and nothing to tie him down. And then he said he had fallen in love with me, and I believed him. By the end of that dinner, I was head over heels in love. We began an affair in secret. He said it had to be secret until the divorce came through.
"And then I came back to the station late one night. I had been out on a case which had fallen through. I wasn't expected back at all, but I thought I may as well get my report out of the way. I saw the light shining through the frosted glass of his door and my heart lifted. Then I heard the sound of masculine laughter. I hesitated outside the door, wondering who was with him and whether to go in, when I heard a man say, 'So what's our Olivia like in bed, Fergus?'
"And then the voice of my beloved came loud and clear, 'Hot stuff. Bit naive. Screams a lot. Fergus, oh, Fergus, that sort of thing.'"
She fell silent, staring at the rushing river.
"So what did you do?" asked Hamish.
"I went to my flat. I wanted to die of shame. But I wanted revenge. I could not report him, of course, I couldn't. If I told his wife, then I would lose my job. All the men would be on his side. Then I thought that if he had done it to me, he would do it to someone else. First I dropped him. I told him I was seeing someone else. I had a nasty time after that, all the rotten cases, but I waited and watched. The chief superintendent's old bat of a secretary retired and he got a new one, very pretty girl in a hard sort of bitchy way. I saw Fergus beginning to sniff round her. I watched and waited. I began to follow them. I got a camera. I took pictures of them in restaurants and then I followed them when they went to Rothesay for the day and got some tremendous snaps of them kissing on the beach.
"I sent the photographs to his wife and another set to the chief superintendent."
"What happened to him?"
"Nothing would have happened on the job front, I suppose, except that the secretary told the super that Fergus had not told her he was married and had promised to marry her. He had even given her a ring. Then the wife arrived, screaming blue murder. He was demoted and transferred to a small local police station. He left the police force and is now, I believe, chief security officer at a big chemical works. I'm not proud of what I did. I haven't been with a man since."
"It's a wonder you didn't leave the force yourself," said Hamish.
"I threw myself into my work. I got the reputation of being a hard woman. God, I don't know why I told you all this."
"Have some champagne. I havenae been lucky in love either."
Feeling that one confidence deserved another, Hamish refilled her cup, and told her about his aborted love affair with Priscilla Halburton-Smythe. "In fact, I never have much luck with women," he said ruefully. "Anna in Amsterdam was a typical mess-up. It's getting cold. I think we should go."
Kevin whispered to Barry as they walked into Lachie's that night, "Something's going on between that pair." He jerked a thumb at Olivia and Hamish.
"Oh, that. Hamish told me that they're pretending to be mad about each other," muttered Barry, "so that Jimmy won't think it odd her going along on the drop."
"Good act if you ask me," said Kevin, shouldering his way ahead.
Once more into Lachie's office. "Well, Hamish," cried Jimmy White. "I gather you've got an idea we should check a wee bit o' the load."
"Aye, that way you can see the stuff is good and I can be sure you're not about to double-cross me," sneered Hamish, his arm around Olivia's shoulders.
"Oh, come on, man, all friends here."
"If that's the case, you can tell that lang dreep o' a man over there," Hamish said, pointing to the Undertaker, "to stop following me around."
"It's no' my man. That's Lachie. Suspicious o' his ain mither. Right, to business."
One of Jimmy's men spread out an ordnance survey map. "We would like you to land the stuff here in two days' time. Can you manage that?"
Hamish looked at the map. Of all the damn places, he thought. Loch Drim!
"Why there?"
"One of our spies said it was a grand place to land. We havenae used it before. Your men bring the stuff ashore to this point." He stabbed down on the rocky promontory opposite the cave where Jock had hidden his monster.