“He seemed a stupid man,” said Josie.

“He could have got someone to do it for him. I wonder if he has any criminal connections? Or Jocasta, his wife? No, scrub that one. I should think she’s been too out o’ love wi’ him for a while to get jealous enough.”

“Is your coffee all right?” asked Josie.

“Yes, chust fine. Don’t sit so close to me. You’re crowding me.”

Josie blushed and drew her chair back.

“Then there’s Jessie Cormack. Annie took her boyfriend away-and that boyfriend, Percy Stane, had better be on the list as well. I may as well put the minister, Mr. Tallent, down as well. I’ll swear he was in love with Annie.

“But right at the moment, my main suspect is Barry Fitzcameron. He’s the spider in the middle o’ the web.”

The phone rang. It was Jimmy. “You’ll never believe this, Hamish. Blair went up the brae a bit for a nip o’ whisky out o’ his flask. A great gust o’ wind caught him and sent him tumbling down the brae right onto the crime scene and he banged his head on the plinth o’ the memorial and went out cold. Daviot’s here and he’s furious. Blair’s been taken to Braikie hospital.”

“Hang on a minute, Jimmy.” Hamish turned to Josie. “You may as well take the rest of the day off, what’s left of it. Run along.”

He waited until Josie had left and then spoke urgently. “Jimmy, raid that disco tomorrow.”

“You mean…?”

“I don’t want to think Blair was the informant, but do you think you could do it?”

“I’ll tell Daviot I’ve had a tip-off.”

“Just make sure Daviot doesn’t go visiting Blair!”

“I’ll tell him he’s not allowed visitors for the next forty-eight hours.”

Mrs. Wellington greeted Josie. “I’ve a nice venison casserole. You can have some of that. Sit down at the table. How’s Hamish?”

“As usual,” said Josie. “I’m thinking of getting a transfer back to Strathbane.”

Mrs. Wellington was alarmed. The money she received for housing Josie had come in very handy.

“You haven’t been having much fun here,” she said. “You should go to the dance in the hall this Saturday.”

“I don’t want to go on my own,” said Josie.

“Get Hamish to take you. That man needs a good woman.”

“He won’t want to go,” said Josie.

“Oh, he will,” said Mrs. Wellington. “I’ll make him.”

Mrs. Wellington thought that a nice clean girl like Josie McSween was just the kind to sort Hamish Macbeth out. That evening, her eyes gleaming with matchmaking, she made her way along to the police station.

“Come ben,” said Hamish reluctantly.

Mrs. Wellington followed Hamish into his living room and looked around in disapproval. There were two dirty coffee mugs beside his armchair and sheets of notes spread out on the floor. The dog and cat lay sleeping in front of a smoky peat fire.

Yes, Josie was just what this lazy policeman needed in his life. “I want you to take Josie to the dance on Saturday,” boomed Mrs. Wellington.

“I’m following up more than one murder,” protested Hamish. “And it iss not the thing at all to be socialising with my policewoman.”

Mrs. Wellington sank down in the little-used armchair opposite Hamish, sending up a cloud of dust.

“You must make an exception,” she said. “That young girl has had no social life at all since she came here. One evening won’t hurt you.”

“But-”

“No buts, young man. I expect to see you there. There’s been talk in the village about how lonely Josie must feel.”

Hamish suddenly just wanted to get rid of her. “Oh, all right,” he said ungraciously.

Josie was elated at the news. She escaped to her room and poured herself a large glass of whisky to celebrate. But then she began to wonder what would happen if Hamish Macbeth either did not dance or danced with her only once and then disappeared back to his station.

She drank more whisky and wondered what to do. She felt she wouldn’t get any sleep that night. Then she remembered that hidden in her luggage, she had a packet of Mandrax tablets. They had been part of a drug raid when she was in Strathbane. She had not been on the drug raid but had been given various drugs and told by Jimmy to take them down to the evidence lockers. It was only when she returned that she had found the packet in her pocket. Not wanting to get into trouble, she had taken them home with her. The missing tablets had not been noticed during the court case.

Mandrax, known as quaaludes in the States, was a banned drug. It was a powerfully addictive sleeping pill with dangerous side effects. Now, if she ground down some of the tablets and slipped it into Hamish’s drink, he would start to get dizzy. She could help him back to the police station, get him into bed after undressing him, and then undress herself and climb into bed with him. When he woke up, she could say they had had sex. He would feel obliged to marry her.

The mad idea fuelled by more whisky began to seem perfectly feasible.

Hamish was awakened two mornings later by the ringing of the telephone. He struggled out of bed, glancing at the clock in alarm, realising he had slept in, and rushed to answer it. It was Jimmy. “Och, man,” he said. “You’ll never believe what’s happened.”

“What?”

“Roger Burton’s escaped, but before he did he got into Barry’s cell and killed him.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“Roger knocked out the copper who took him his breakfast. He dressed himself in the copper’s clothes, put his own clothes on the policeman, and put the policeman in the bed in the cell wi’ a blanket over him. He took his keys and found Barry’s cell. He stabbed him to death.”

“What with?”

“A sharpened toothbrush.”

“What on earth was left in his cell to sharpen the damn thing?”

“Didn’t need a knife. There’s rough concrete on that ledge by the window. He just rubbed it and rubbed it down to a point.”

“So you’d arrested Barry?”

“Aye, I forgot to tell you. We’d raided thon disco yesterday and found the stash o’ drugs. Oh, God, we’re all in deep crap here, right up to our oxters. Daviot is screaming blue murder and says if Blair had been around it wouldnae have happened. I tried to say that maybe we’d got Barry because Blair wasn’t around and Daviot says I cannot defend myself by libelling a good officer.”

“Any clue as to where Roger Burton is?”

“By the time they found out the fellow in the bed wasn’t Roger, he’d long gone.”

“What about the barman at the disco? He must know something.”

“It gets worse. He was bailed and now he’s disappeared as well. You’re on your own wi’ that valentine case. Getting anywhere?”

“Not so far. I’ve interviewed all my suspects again.”

“Keep at it. Daviot’s rampaging around. The duty officer’s been suspended, poor bastard, although it had nothing to do with him. We’ve got the press baying outside for blood and Daviot baying inside.”

When Hamish rang off, he thought that Blair must be thrilled to bits. If there was a connection to Barry, it would be hard to find it now.

There was a knock at the kitchen door. He opened it. Josie stood there, smiling up at him.

“I’m late,” said Hamish. “I was interviewing people until late last night.”

“You should have let me help you, sir,” said Josie.

“Get the coffee on and I’ll be ready in a minute.”

When Hamish finally appeared, dressed and shaved, Josie said, “It’s kind of you to offer to take me to the dance tomorrow.”

“I didn’t offer,” said Hamish, helping himself to coffee. “I was bullied into it.”

He waited for Josie to say something like, Oh, well, in that case, I’ll go myself, but she merely hung her head and looked miserable.

Hamish was suddenly sorry for her. “Don’t worry, Josie,” he said. “We’ll probably have a good time.”

He’d called her Josie! All Josie’s dreams flooded into her brain. But she said, “Where are we going today?”

“I want to try to get Jocasta on her own. If I’m right, she’s fed up with the marriage and might talk a bit freely if we can get her without her husband around.”