there been a burglary?’
‘Probably, but they don’t bother to investigate unless they think the householder’s duffed up the burglar,’ he said with uncharacteristic bitterness. The others exchanged surprised glances.
‘That’s not like you, darling,’ Sylvia said. ‘You usually have a rather romantic view of our boys in blue.’
‘Black,’ Craig corrected automatically. Playfair’s Patch prided itself on accuracy.
‘Let me guess – they’ve caught up with your unpaid parking fines,’ Laidlaw suggested.
‘No, no. Nothing like that. They’re reopening a cold case from twenty years ago – wanted to know if I was here then, but I was in the States so I wasn’t much help.’
‘Lucky, that! Could have been expensive if you were dragged off in irons,’ Craig giggled. ‘Might have done wonders for the show’s publicity, though.’
‘Without Marcus there wouldn’t be any show,’ Jaki said with asperity. ‘You’re not as funny as you think you are, Barrie.’
Sylvia directed an anxious glance at Marcus before saying brightly, ‘Tony, have you tomorrow’s call sheet for me? I like to know where I’m going to have to be when, well in advance.’
He found the sheet on his clipboard. ‘Nine a.m. Just some shots of you in your car. We’ve found a wonderful old banger, falling apart. Then it’s the neds sequence, with them throwing stones as you drive past in the village, only of course you won’t be in it. Dave here’s going to run the gauntlet, wearing an old straw hat Frocks has found for you.
‘Hope the school sends us some decently scruffy kids. Say ten of them – OK, Barrie?’
The professional talk started again, but Marcus Lindsay didn’t join in. He stood looking out through the French windows to the neglected garden beyond. He didn’t look as if his thoughts were happy ones.
Back at the main road again, Fleming checked her watch. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! Is that the time? I don’t know what’s happened to today – an hour seems to go past every five minutes.
‘I don’t think we can go on down to the Mull. It’ll take half an hour to get there, then interviews with the three Grants, the best part of an hour back to Kirkluce – could be eight o’clock by then, and I should touch base with the Super before he goes home. I’m supposed to phone the Fiscal as well.’
‘Sounds like fun.’
‘Yes, if your idea of fun is taking a sharp stick and repeatedly poking yourself in the eye. But the Grants can wait. Won’t be pleasant for them anyway, stirring it all up again.’
Fleming gave a slight shiver as she spoke and MacNee looked at her. ‘Are you cold? Why don’t you put up the heater?’
‘No, no,’ she said. ‘Just a goose walking over my grave.’
‘This is a late call, inspector. I had expected to hear from you sooner.’ The acting Procurator Fiscal’s voice was chilly.
‘I’m glad I caught you before you left,’ Fleming said. ‘There have been a lot of demands on my time today.’
‘And on mine, which is why I’m still here. So – what is the situation?’
‘There’s very little to report as yet. I’m mainly familiarizing myself with the facts, but I did interview one of the people named, Marcus Lazansky – now known as Marcus Lindsay.’
There was a silence at the other end of the phone, then an indrawn breath. ‘Marcus Lindsay – the actor?’
Fleming was surprised. ‘Yes – do you know him?’
‘He’s very well known, isn’t he?’ Milne didn’t answer the question. ‘What had he to do with it, anyway?’
‘The girl’s mother accused him of her murder. They’d had some sort of relationship two or three years before, and Jean Grant seems just to have assumed that Lindsay was the father of the baby. Lindsay was actually in the US at the relevant time – showed us theatre programmes corroborating his story.’
‘So he’s eliminated from enquiries?’
Milne couldn’t be sounding relieved, could she? ‘Not
‘Probably, but they don’t bother to investigate unless they think the householder’s duffed up the burglar,’ he said with uncharacteristic bitterness. The others exchanged surprised glances.
‘That’s not like you, darling,’ Sylvia said. ‘You usually have a rather romantic view of our boys in blue.’
‘Black,’ Craig corrected automatically. Playfair’s Patch prided itself on accuracy.
‘Let me guess – they’ve caught up with your unpaid parking fines,’ Laidlaw suggested.
‘No, no. Nothing like that. They’re reopening a cold case from twenty years ago – wanted to know if I was here then, but I was in the States so I wasn’t much help.’
‘Lucky, that! Could have been expensive if you were dragged off in irons,’ Craig giggled. ‘Might have done wonders for the show’s publicity, though.’
‘Without Marcus there wouldn’t be any show,’ Jaki said with asperity. ‘You’re not as funny as you think you are, Barrie.’
Sylvia directed an anxious glance at Marcus before saying brightly, ‘Tony, have you tomorrow’s call sheet for me? I like to know where I’m going to have to be when, well in advance.’
He found the sheet on his clipboard. ‘Nine a.m. Just some shots of you in your car. We’ve found a wonderful old banger, falling apart. Then it’s the neds sequence, with them throwing stones as you drive past in the village, only of course you won’t be in it. Dave here’s going to run the gauntlet, wearing an old straw hat Frocks has found for you.
‘Hope the school sends us some decently scruffy kids. Say ten of them – OK, Barrie?’
The professional talk started again, but Marcus Lindsay didn’t join in. He stood looking out through the French windows to the neglected garden beyond. He didn’t look as if his thoughts were happy ones.
Back at the main road again, Fleming checked her watch. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! Is that the time? I don’t know what’s happened to today – an hour seems to go past every five minutes.
‘I don’t think we can go on down to the Mull. It’ll take half an hour to get there, then interviews with the three Grants, the best part of an hour back to Kirkluce – could be eight o’clock by then, and I should touch base with the Super before he goes home. I’m supposed to phone the Fiscal as well.’
‘Sounds like fun.’
‘Yes, if your idea of fun is taking a sharp stick and repeatedly poking yourself in the eye. But the Grants can wait. Won’t be pleasant for them anyway, stirring it all up again.’
Fleming gave a slight shiver as she spoke and MacNee looked at her. ‘Are you cold? Why don’t you put up the heater?’
‘No, no,’ she said. ‘Just a goose walking over my grave.’
‘This is a late call, inspector. I had expected to hear from you sooner.’ The acting Procurator Fiscal’s voice was chilly.
‘I’m glad I caught you before you left,’ Fleming said. ‘There have been a lot of demands on my time today.’
‘And on mine, which is why I’m still here. So – what is the situation?’
‘There’s very little to report as yet. I’m mainly familiarizing myself with the facts, but I did interview one of the people named, Marcus Lazansky – now known as Marcus Lindsay.’
There was a silence at the other end of the phone, then an indrawn breath. ‘Marcus Lindsay – the actor?’
Fleming was surprised. ‘Yes – do you know him?’
‘He’s very well known, isn’t he?’ Milne didn’t answer the question. ‘What had he to do with it, anyway?’
‘The girl’s mother accused him of her murder. They’d had some sort of relationship two or three years before, and Jean Grant seems just to have assumed that Lindsay was the father of the baby. Lindsay was actually in the US at the relevant time – showed us theatre programmes corroborating his story.’
‘So he’s eliminated from enquiries?’
Milne couldn’t be sounding relieved, could she? ‘Not
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