“Where is the key to the ballot box kept? I know the provost locked it up in the safe in the bank.”

“You’ll never believe this. The key was kept in a top drawer of his desk. Annie could have taken it out and unlocked the box.”

“And didn’t you think to report this when the vote was announced?”

She shrugged. “I was so used to all the men drooling over Annie, I didn’t really bother about it.”

“Why did Mr. Tarry take the ballot box to the bank?”

“It was right after the Lammas fair. His office was being decorated. He took a lot of files and the ballot box along to the bank.”

“Were any of the councillors particularly interested in Annie?”

“I don’t know. I mean, she didn’t work here.”

“What did Mr. Tarry say when you told him about her calling here for an interview?”

“It slipped my mind. The appointment wasn’t down in the diary.”

Hamish returned in the evening to his police station, feeling depressed. Josie was waiting for him outside.

“Have a good time in Perth?” asked Hamish.

“Yes, thank you. I wondered what we were going to do tomorrow.”

Hamish thought quickly. He wanted rid of her. “Come in,” he said. He led the way into the office and pointed to a large ordnance survey map on the wall. “I want you to take the Assynt Road between Lochinver and Kylesku. Drop off at each place and ask if everything is all right.”

“Can’t I help you with the murder enquiries?”

“It’s large beat we have to cover. Leave the murder enquiries to me.”

Josie set out the following morning in a sulky mood. But her spirits rose after she left Lochinver and set out on the Assynt Road along the coast. It was a rare calm, sunny day. The Minch lay placid with large glassy waves curling on the shore. She stopped at Drumbeg for a cup of tea and a sandwich, and then stood outside in the car park and breathed in the clear air. The majestic bulk of Quinag mountain rose up to a perfectly blue sky. The majesty of the Highlands seized her for the first time.

I belong here, she thought fiercely-me and Hamish Macbeth.

By the time she reached Kylesku by Loch a’ Chairn Bhain and swept over the new road in the direction of Lairg, she was determined to do everything she could to capture Hamish.

It never entered her mind again that the way to Hamish’s heart might be through some diligent police work. She had not asked at any of the villages along the coast if anyone had anything to report.

By the time early night had fallen, she pulled to the side of the road, her heart beating hard. She fished in her handbag for the half bottle of whisky she had bought earlier and sat drinking and dreaming. She had the two bottles of laudanum with her. When she returned to Lochdubh, if the police station was empty, she would doctor a glass of whisky. If Hamish arrived while she was in the police station, she would simply say that she had called to report on her day.

With a lurch in her stomach, she realised she had not talked to anyone in any of the villages. She could only hope Hamish would not ask for names.

Josie arrived back in Lochdubh at six o’clock. Everyone was indoors having high tea.

She parked at the manse and made her away over the fields at the back to the police station. It was dark and empty. She let herself in, praying that Hamish’s pets were out somewhere. She was in luck. Nothing moved in the silence of the police station. She switched on a pencil torch and took out a fresh bottle of whisky. She took down a glass, put in a generous measure of whisky, and then poured laudanum into the glass and stirred it up.

Then she concealed herself at the side of the henhouse, waiting for Hamish to come home.

She heard the cat flap bang. She hoped one of the animals wouldn’t come out again, sensing her presence. But Sonsie and Lugs were used to Josie by now and knew her smell and didn’t bother to investigate.

The night was becoming frosty and she shivered, hoping Hamish would not be too long.

She heard the Land Rover drive up and Hamish’s voice saying, “Come in, Elspeth. I couldnae believe my eyes when I saw you up at the hotel.”

Elspeth followed Hamish into the kitchen. “I’ll just go into the office and see if there are any messages,” said Hamish.

“I am so tired,” said Elspeth. “I drove all the way from Glasgow. I had to get away.”

“Be with you in a minute,” called Hamish. “There’s a message here from one of my suspects.”

Elspeth sat down wearily at the table. She picked up the glass of whisky and began to drink it. When she finished it, she rinsed out the glass and put it away.

“I’ll light the stove,” she shouted. But she suddenly felt very tired and disoriented. Before her dizzy eyes, she could see the lights of approaching cars that she had seen on her long drive up. She had got to her feet to light the stove, but she sat down again, put her head down on the table, and fell asleep.

Hamish came in and exclaimed, “Poor lassie. You’re fair worn out.”

Josie, crouched outside the kitchen window, saw him lift Elspeth in his arms and carry her through to the bedroom.

She had recognised Elspeth Grant. She had seen her many nights on television. But surely she was no competition. She was going to marry that actor.

Josie stumbled back across the fields. Before she entered the manse, she took a tube of extra-strong mints out of her pocket and began to chew two of them so that Mrs. Wellington would not smell whisky on her breath.

Elspeth awoke the next morning and stared around in a dazed way. She threw back the bedclothes. She was wearing only her underwear. What on earth was she doing in Hamish’s bed?

Her skirt, blouse, and jacket were neatly arranged on a chair beside the bed. She took down Hamish’s dressing gown from a hook at the back of the bedroom door and went in search of him.

Hamish was in the kitchen, notes spread out in front of him. “Morning, Elspeth,” he said. “That must have been some drive. Sit down and I’ll make coffee.”

“I don’t know what happened, Hamish,” said Elspeth. “I helped myself to some of your whisky and then went out like a light.”

“Never mind. You never told me what brought you up here.” There was a tentative knock at the kitchen door. He opened it. Josie stood looking up at him and then past him to where Elspeth was sitting, wrapped in Hamish’s dressing gown. She tried to enter but he blocked her way.

“Take the day off, McSween,” he said. “I’ve got to go over my notes. I’ll phone you if there’s anything.”

The door was firmly shut in Josie’s face.

Josie craved a drink but did not want to buy too much whisky from Mr. Patel in case he gossiped. She got in her car and drove miserably off in the direction of Strathbane.

“So Elspeth,” Hamish was saying. “Out with it.”

She clutched the mug of coffee he had poured for her. “I had to get away from the press.”

“But you are the press. You’re a news presenter.”

“I’ve broken off my engagement. I wanted it all to be quiet but Paul Darby’s press agent got on to all the papers-I am sure with Paul’s encouragement. He’s very vain.”

“So why did you get engaged to him?”

“I was on holiday in the Maldives. All that sun and being away from work and having a handsome man to squire me around. Do you remember when I got jilted at the altar by that fellow?”

“Yes.”

“Well, from time to time, the papers drag that up. I suppose I wanted to show everyone that wee Elspeth Grant could do it. Paul’s a big heartthrob. Of course, he works in England and I work in Scotland, so we had snatched time together, which added to the romance. Then his filming on the soap was over for a bit and he came up and moved in with me. Do you know, Hamish, his cosmetics took up more shelf space than mine?”