Read Online Lying Dead by Aline Templeton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Aline Templeton
Tags: Scotland
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old-fashioned, but I think on such slight acquaintance I’ll go home for my hot bath.’
‘Don’t miss a trick, do you?’ he was saying, as Tansy appeared outside the tent, waving frantically.
‘Jon! Fight in the tent – get over here!’
He swore under his breath. ‘Phone number?’ he said urgently, and she gabbled it as he took off.
Laura got into her car wondering if this would have scuppered the plans for the evening. She was well aware of what the problems of going out with a policeman might be, but this was an excessively early start to them.
Perhaps that had been what Marjory’s phone call had been about too. She might give her a ring later tonight, if she hadn’t heard from Jon.
Or perhaps she wouldn’t. It hadn’t been lost on Laura that Marjory had been suspiciously quick to break up their conversation. She remembered when Jon – English, a graduate and with a reputation as a high-flier – had joined the Galloway Force from Edinburgh, Marjory had been worried about Tam MacNee’s reaction to him, and Laura had thought privately that it was not beyond the bounds of possibility that Marjory had felt threatened too. Since Jon joined her team she had been professionally loyal but somehow Laura had a feeling there wasn’t much love lost.
Still, Marjory needn’t know about what had been, when it came right down to it, the most casual of invitations.
‘Bill, I have to go,’ Marjory said urgently. ‘I’ll need the jeep. Do you think Fin and Susie would give you and the kids a lift home?’
‘Someone will. Here – take the keys.’
Blessing him, as always, for his unquestioning support, she hurried back to the car park and jumped into the old jeep. She was driving across to turn right on to the main way out when she realized there was a commotion going on back down to her left, around the beer tent. She stopped to look, then gave a gasp of dismay.
Findlay Stevenson, dishevelled and with a graze on one cheek, was being frogmarched towards a police car, there on crowd duty, between Jon Kingsley and a uniform, with Tansy Kerr bringing up the rear.
There was nothing she could do. This would never even reach her level and at the moment she had more important – much more important – matters to deal with. She drove on with a leaden heart. As if things weren’t bad enough already with Fin and Susie! And poor Bill would have to find someone else to give him a lift home.
Chapter 4
‘ How far?’ Marjory Fleming said blankly.
‘About a mile, ma’am. Maybe a wee bit more. Uphill.’ The PC at the foot of the forest track where it emerged on to the A712 not far from Clatteringshaws Loch was trying not to look as if he enjoyed giving that answer. Standing in the rain logging visitors to the site might not be much fun but at least he could sneak into the car when there was no one around, which was definitely better than scrambling up a winding rocky track in rain and fading light.
Fleming looked ruefully at her rubber boots, ideal for ploughing through muddy fields but pretty much guaranteed to give you blisters if you were daft enough to go hiking in them. An unappetizing prospect, and with that leaden sky, it was getting dark already too, even if it was only just after six o’clock. She went back to the jeep to fetch a torch, saying bitterly to the constable, ‘All right for some!’
There were half-a-dozen badged vehicles of different types parked by the road, as well as a couple of ordinary cars, one of them Tam MacNee’s. If they were lucky, the other might be the police surgeon. However dead the body might obviously be, no one could do anything until he’d said it was.
Fleming set off up into the shadow of the trees. It was much darker here, with a sort of greenish, unearthly light, and very, very quiet. There must be all of a dozen people not that far away, but the trees muffled sound so
‘Don’t miss a trick, do you?’ he was saying, as Tansy appeared outside the tent, waving frantically.
‘Jon! Fight in the tent – get over here!’
He swore under his breath. ‘Phone number?’ he said urgently, and she gabbled it as he took off.
Laura got into her car wondering if this would have scuppered the plans for the evening. She was well aware of what the problems of going out with a policeman might be, but this was an excessively early start to them.
Perhaps that had been what Marjory’s phone call had been about too. She might give her a ring later tonight, if she hadn’t heard from Jon.
Or perhaps she wouldn’t. It hadn’t been lost on Laura that Marjory had been suspiciously quick to break up their conversation. She remembered when Jon – English, a graduate and with a reputation as a high-flier – had joined the Galloway Force from Edinburgh, Marjory had been worried about Tam MacNee’s reaction to him, and Laura had thought privately that it was not beyond the bounds of possibility that Marjory had felt threatened too. Since Jon joined her team she had been professionally loyal but somehow Laura had a feeling there wasn’t much love lost.
Still, Marjory needn’t know about what had been, when it came right down to it, the most casual of invitations.
‘Bill, I have to go,’ Marjory said urgently. ‘I’ll need the jeep. Do you think Fin and Susie would give you and the kids a lift home?’
‘Someone will. Here – take the keys.’
Blessing him, as always, for his unquestioning support, she hurried back to the car park and jumped into the old jeep. She was driving across to turn right on to the main way out when she realized there was a commotion going on back down to her left, around the beer tent. She stopped to look, then gave a gasp of dismay.
Findlay Stevenson, dishevelled and with a graze on one cheek, was being frogmarched towards a police car, there on crowd duty, between Jon Kingsley and a uniform, with Tansy Kerr bringing up the rear.
There was nothing she could do. This would never even reach her level and at the moment she had more important – much more important – matters to deal with. She drove on with a leaden heart. As if things weren’t bad enough already with Fin and Susie! And poor Bill would have to find someone else to give him a lift home.
Chapter 4
‘ How far?’ Marjory Fleming said blankly.
‘About a mile, ma’am. Maybe a wee bit more. Uphill.’ The PC at the foot of the forest track where it emerged on to the A712 not far from Clatteringshaws Loch was trying not to look as if he enjoyed giving that answer. Standing in the rain logging visitors to the site might not be much fun but at least he could sneak into the car when there was no one around, which was definitely better than scrambling up a winding rocky track in rain and fading light.
Fleming looked ruefully at her rubber boots, ideal for ploughing through muddy fields but pretty much guaranteed to give you blisters if you were daft enough to go hiking in them. An unappetizing prospect, and with that leaden sky, it was getting dark already too, even if it was only just after six o’clock. She went back to the jeep to fetch a torch, saying bitterly to the constable, ‘All right for some!’
There were half-a-dozen badged vehicles of different types parked by the road, as well as a couple of ordinary cars, one of them Tam MacNee’s. If they were lucky, the other might be the police surgeon. However dead the body might obviously be, no one could do anything until he’d said it was.
Fleming set off up into the shadow of the trees. It was much darker here, with a sort of greenish, unearthly light, and very, very quiet. There must be all of a dozen people not that far away, but the trees muffled sound so
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