mean, it’s not often you get weather like this right on the coast. Battered by gales all year round, poor soil to scrape a living out of, meagre fishing what with the decline in
stocks and all those bloody European Union regulations.’
‘We should all go and live in Brussels,’ said Hamish. ‘I bet they don’t give a damn about rules and regulations over there.’
‘Quiet! You told me to think, so I’m thinking. Maybe someone in the village has been having visions.’
‘Probably the DTs.’
‘Someone sees something. Can’t have been the Virgin Mary. They would consider that too popish. Can’t be something old and Celtic like a kelpie. That wouldn’t prompt all
these visits to the church. Some vision that at first frightened and then reassured. But something that told them not to talk about it.’
‘Let’s take it away from the supernatural,’ said Hamish. ‘More coffee?’
‘Please.’
‘Right. Say someone or some people wanted Stoyre kept sealed off. Why?’
‘Nice little harbour for landing drugs.’
‘True. But they would see real live men in a real live boat. I’ll have another talk to Sean Comyn and then I’ll try the Bain family again. There’s Jimmy.’
Hamish waved to Jimmy Anderson, who was heading down the harbour towards them. Jimmy came up mopping his red, sweating foxy face with a large handkerchief. ‘Didn’t know it was going
to be this warm,’ he complained when he came up to them. ‘Hello, Elspeth. Got anything to drink, Hamish?’
‘There’s a cup of coffee left in the flask.’
‘Coffee! Yuk! There’s not a dram to be found in this place.’
‘How’s it going?’
‘Stone-faced locals without a word to say. Blair took over some of the interviewing and I thought he was going to have a stroke. Nobody saw anything. Nobody even got out of bed to see what
the noise was.’
‘Any news of any terrorist activity?’
‘Nothing. You find out anything?’
‘Only that something has prompted a religious fervour. The major usually brings up some friends for the fishing. Did he have anyone on the guest list that might excite the attentions of a
terrorist?’
‘No. And he only did some low-key work in Belfast ages ago. He’s retired. Actually he’s quite chipper about the whole thing. He planned to sell up and the insurance will bring
him a lot more than he could have got from selling it.’
‘Maybe he did it himself.’
Jimmy grinned. ‘That’s what Blair accused him of and they had to fly Daviot up to soothe the major down. This your day off?’
‘Aye.’
‘I might drop round to see you in Lochdubh on my way back. Got any whisky?’
‘No,’ said Hamish, ‘and you finished the brandy.’
‘Patel’s open?’
‘Not now. He only opens in the morning for the Sunday papers.’
‘Damn! I’ll be off, then.’
‘How long will the police be around?’ asked Elspeth.
‘A good few days yet, and if there’s any funny business going on in Stoyre, believe me, nothing’s going to happen until they give up and leave. Say it’s a local job
– the major’s cottage, I mean. It could just be spite but I don’t think so. The man only came up in the summers. Now, the major was once in army intelligence. Perhaps someone
didn’t want any sharp-eyed outsider around, someone who might notice things the locals wouldn’t.’
‘Any word of Bella Comyn?’
‘Nothing yet. I’d like that one caught before she messes up someone else’s life.’
Once back at the police station after having dropped Elspeth off, Hamish fed his hens, some of whom were quite elderly as he never had the heart to kill any of them for the
pot, walked Lugs, and settled down to watch television. He felt he’d done enough on his day off. Sean and the Bains could wait until the morning.
He had just untied and kicked off his heavy regulation boots, which he wore even when not wearing his uniform, when he heard the phone ringing in the office. He was just wondering whether to
stocks and all those bloody European Union regulations.’
‘We should all go and live in Brussels,’ said Hamish. ‘I bet they don’t give a damn about rules and regulations over there.’
‘Quiet! You told me to think, so I’m thinking. Maybe someone in the village has been having visions.’
‘Probably the DTs.’
‘Someone sees something. Can’t have been the Virgin Mary. They would consider that too popish. Can’t be something old and Celtic like a kelpie. That wouldn’t prompt all
these visits to the church. Some vision that at first frightened and then reassured. But something that told them not to talk about it.’
‘Let’s take it away from the supernatural,’ said Hamish. ‘More coffee?’
‘Please.’
‘Right. Say someone or some people wanted Stoyre kept sealed off. Why?’
‘Nice little harbour for landing drugs.’
‘True. But they would see real live men in a real live boat. I’ll have another talk to Sean Comyn and then I’ll try the Bain family again. There’s Jimmy.’
Hamish waved to Jimmy Anderson, who was heading down the harbour towards them. Jimmy came up mopping his red, sweating foxy face with a large handkerchief. ‘Didn’t know it was going
to be this warm,’ he complained when he came up to them. ‘Hello, Elspeth. Got anything to drink, Hamish?’
‘There’s a cup of coffee left in the flask.’
‘Coffee! Yuk! There’s not a dram to be found in this place.’
‘How’s it going?’
‘Stone-faced locals without a word to say. Blair took over some of the interviewing and I thought he was going to have a stroke. Nobody saw anything. Nobody even got out of bed to see what
the noise was.’
‘Any news of any terrorist activity?’
‘Nothing. You find out anything?’
‘Only that something has prompted a religious fervour. The major usually brings up some friends for the fishing. Did he have anyone on the guest list that might excite the attentions of a
terrorist?’
‘No. And he only did some low-key work in Belfast ages ago. He’s retired. Actually he’s quite chipper about the whole thing. He planned to sell up and the insurance will bring
him a lot more than he could have got from selling it.’
‘Maybe he did it himself.’
Jimmy grinned. ‘That’s what Blair accused him of and they had to fly Daviot up to soothe the major down. This your day off?’
‘Aye.’
‘I might drop round to see you in Lochdubh on my way back. Got any whisky?’
‘No,’ said Hamish, ‘and you finished the brandy.’
‘Patel’s open?’
‘Not now. He only opens in the morning for the Sunday papers.’
‘Damn! I’ll be off, then.’
‘How long will the police be around?’ asked Elspeth.
‘A good few days yet, and if there’s any funny business going on in Stoyre, believe me, nothing’s going to happen until they give up and leave. Say it’s a local job
– the major’s cottage, I mean. It could just be spite but I don’t think so. The man only came up in the summers. Now, the major was once in army intelligence. Perhaps someone
didn’t want any sharp-eyed outsider around, someone who might notice things the locals wouldn’t.’
‘Any word of Bella Comyn?’
‘Nothing yet. I’d like that one caught before she messes up someone else’s life.’
Once back at the police station after having dropped Elspeth off, Hamish fed his hens, some of whom were quite elderly as he never had the heart to kill any of them for the
pot, walked Lugs, and settled down to watch television. He felt he’d done enough on his day off. Sean and the Bains could wait until the morning.
He had just untied and kicked off his heavy regulation boots, which he wore even when not wearing his uniform, when he heard the phone ringing in the office. He was just wondering whether to
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