well. That’s why I worry when I hear about something like this happening. Hello, what’s up, Oscar?’
The golden retriever was looking expectantly at the doorway. I hadn’t heard anyone come into the hotel, but a moment later there was the sound of the front door opening. The dog gave an excited whine, its tail thumping against the floor.
‘I don’t know how he does that, but he always knows,’ Strachan said, shaking his head.
Knows what? I wondered, and then a woman came into the bar. I didn’t need to be told to know that she was Strachan’s wife. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, although she was certainly that. Her white Prada parka was flecked with rain, setting off thick, shoulder-length hair that was raven black. It framed a face whose skin was flawless, with a full mouth it was hard to take your eyes from.
But it was more than that. There was an energy to her, a sheer physical presence that seemed to draw all the light in the room. I remembered Fraser’s envious comment earlier:
His wife’s supposed to be a stunner.
He was right.
She’d had a tentative smile as she came into the bar, but when she saw Strachan it bloomed into something dazzling.
‘Caught you! So this is where you end up when you go out on “business”, is it?’
She had the same faint South African accent as her husband. Strachan rose to give her a kiss.
‘Guilty. How did you know I was here?’
‘I came to get some things from the store, but it was shut,’ she said, taking off her gloves. They were fur-lined black leather, unobtrusively expensive. On her left hand she wore a plain gold wedding band, and a diamond ring whose single stone danced with blue light. ‘Next time you want to sneak a drink, don’t leave your car outside.’
‘Blame Oscar. He dragged me here.’
‘Oscar, you bully, how could you?’ She fussed the dog, which had started to prance excitedly around her. ‘All right, calm down.’
She looked across at me, waiting for an introduction. Her brown eyes were so dark they were almost black.
‘This is David Hunter,’ Strachan said. ‘David, this is my wife, Grace.’
She smiled and held out her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, David.’
As I took it I could smell her perfume, subtle and delicately spiced.
‘David’s a forensic expert. He’s come out with the police,’ Strachan explained.
‘God, what an awful business,’ she said, growing serious. ‘I just hope it’s no one from here. I know that sounds selfish, but…well, you know what I mean.’
I did. When it comes to ill fortune we’re all selfish at heart, offering up the same prayers:
not me, not mine. Not yet.
Strachan had got to his feet. ‘Well, nice meeting you, Dr Hunter. Perhaps I’ll see you again before you leave.’
Grace arched an ironic eyebrow. ‘Don’t I even get a drink now I’m here?’
‘I’ll buy you a drink, Mrs Strachan.’
The offer came from Guthrie, the man with the ponderous gut. I had the impression he’d beaten Kinross and several others to the punch. Beside them, all but forgotten, Karen Tait’s blowsy face was pinched with jealousy.
Grace Strachan gave the big man a warm smile. ‘Thank you, Sean, but I can see Michael’s raring to go.’
‘Sorry, darling, I thought you wanted to get back,’ Strachan apologized. ‘I was planning to cook mussels for dinner. But if you’re not hungry…’
‘Sounds like blackmail to me.’ The smile she gave him had become intimate.
He turned to me. ‘If you get a chance before you leave, you should take a look at the burial cairns on the mountain. There’s a group of them, which is unusual. Neolithic. They’re quite something.’
‘Not everyone’s as morbid as you, darling.’ Grace shook her head in mock-exasperation. ‘Michael’s fond of archaeology. I think he’d rather have old ruins than me, sometimes.’
‘It’s just an interest,’ Strachan said, growing self-conscious. ‘Come on, Oscar, you lazy brute. Time to go.’
He
The golden retriever was looking expectantly at the doorway. I hadn’t heard anyone come into the hotel, but a moment later there was the sound of the front door opening. The dog gave an excited whine, its tail thumping against the floor.
‘I don’t know how he does that, but he always knows,’ Strachan said, shaking his head.
Knows what? I wondered, and then a woman came into the bar. I didn’t need to be told to know that she was Strachan’s wife. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, although she was certainly that. Her white Prada parka was flecked with rain, setting off thick, shoulder-length hair that was raven black. It framed a face whose skin was flawless, with a full mouth it was hard to take your eyes from.
But it was more than that. There was an energy to her, a sheer physical presence that seemed to draw all the light in the room. I remembered Fraser’s envious comment earlier:
His wife’s supposed to be a stunner.
He was right.
She’d had a tentative smile as she came into the bar, but when she saw Strachan it bloomed into something dazzling.
‘Caught you! So this is where you end up when you go out on “business”, is it?’
She had the same faint South African accent as her husband. Strachan rose to give her a kiss.
‘Guilty. How did you know I was here?’
‘I came to get some things from the store, but it was shut,’ she said, taking off her gloves. They were fur-lined black leather, unobtrusively expensive. On her left hand she wore a plain gold wedding band, and a diamond ring whose single stone danced with blue light. ‘Next time you want to sneak a drink, don’t leave your car outside.’
‘Blame Oscar. He dragged me here.’
‘Oscar, you bully, how could you?’ She fussed the dog, which had started to prance excitedly around her. ‘All right, calm down.’
She looked across at me, waiting for an introduction. Her brown eyes were so dark they were almost black.
‘This is David Hunter,’ Strachan said. ‘David, this is my wife, Grace.’
She smiled and held out her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, David.’
As I took it I could smell her perfume, subtle and delicately spiced.
‘David’s a forensic expert. He’s come out with the police,’ Strachan explained.
‘God, what an awful business,’ she said, growing serious. ‘I just hope it’s no one from here. I know that sounds selfish, but…well, you know what I mean.’
I did. When it comes to ill fortune we’re all selfish at heart, offering up the same prayers:
not me, not mine. Not yet.
Strachan had got to his feet. ‘Well, nice meeting you, Dr Hunter. Perhaps I’ll see you again before you leave.’
Grace arched an ironic eyebrow. ‘Don’t I even get a drink now I’m here?’
‘I’ll buy you a drink, Mrs Strachan.’
The offer came from Guthrie, the man with the ponderous gut. I had the impression he’d beaten Kinross and several others to the punch. Beside them, all but forgotten, Karen Tait’s blowsy face was pinched with jealousy.
Grace Strachan gave the big man a warm smile. ‘Thank you, Sean, but I can see Michael’s raring to go.’
‘Sorry, darling, I thought you wanted to get back,’ Strachan apologized. ‘I was planning to cook mussels for dinner. But if you’re not hungry…’
‘Sounds like blackmail to me.’ The smile she gave him had become intimate.
He turned to me. ‘If you get a chance before you leave, you should take a look at the burial cairns on the mountain. There’s a group of them, which is unusual. Neolithic. They’re quite something.’
‘Not everyone’s as morbid as you, darling.’ Grace shook her head in mock-exasperation. ‘Michael’s fond of archaeology. I think he’d rather have old ruins than me, sometimes.’
‘It’s just an interest,’ Strachan said, growing self-conscious. ‘Come on, Oscar, you lazy brute. Time to go.’
He
Similar Books
