‘No, apparently he never approved of Patti marrying him. He thought she should have stayed home and married a Scotsman. But Archiewasa Scotsman! Both of his parents were born and bred in Scotland. So I guess he just didn’t like Archie for some reason.’ Greg shook his head. ‘What about the earl? Could he have had any reason to want Archie dead?’
Ally frowned. ‘The earl’s a good man. And what possible reason could there be for him to kill the star competitor? And apart from that, he would have been in the hospitality tent at the time. Didn’t you see him?’
‘No.’ Greg shook his head.
‘The earl’s a great advocate for anything to do with tourismaround here, you know, and this killing isn’t exactly likely to pull in the crowds.’ Ally poured herself a coffee and sat down. Did this man really think that she might know who’d fired that damned bullet? ‘Were you close to your brother-in-law?’
‘Not so much on a personal level,’ he replied, ‘but we were in business together. We make log cabins which sell all over North America, and it’s very much a thriving business.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘His personal life wasn’t so great though. His marriage wasn’t too happy.’
‘What? Weren’t they well suited?’ Ally asked.
‘He shouldn’t have married her because he was known to play around.’
Ally didn’t really think she should be hearing this because it was none of her business, but she couldn’t help but be fascinated. She remembered that it was only a short time ago that the earl had been sitting in that very chair saying that Patti had been man-mad in her youth, but she’d heard nothing about Archie…
‘Well, Greg, I’m sure the police will find the killer before too long. Detective Inspector Kandahar is very efficient.’
‘Let’s hope you’re right. I’m not sure we’re gonna be able to leave here until they do,’ Greg said. He looked out of the window. ‘It’s beautiful here, but we need to get home; I got a business to run single-handed now. Anyway, I must go to see if Wendy’s OK, but it’s been good talking to you.’
Has it? Ally wondered. Why on earth had he thought that she might have known who killed Archie? He’d definitely been pointing a finger at poor old Angus and even the earl himself. But where hadhehimself been when the shot was fired?Hadhe been in the hospitality tent? Ally was beginning to wonder if he could just be deflecting suspicion away from himself. For that matter, where had Patti been as well? She’d told Amir that she’d just gone to get a coffee – he’d mentioned this to Ally just before he’d left. And Wendy. Had Wendygone for a coffee too? Was the rifle definitely fired from the woods? Who knew?
Ally sat mulling this over for a good twenty minutes and got nowhere, so she remembered she needed a few groceries and her time would be better spent if she paid a visit to the shop. She was reluctant to face Queenie and Bessie because she had no idea how fast the rumour mill might have been spinning. But needs must.
FIVE
The Locharran Village Post Office and General Stores was run by two aged spinster sisters: Queenie and Bessie McDougall. Queenie was the elder and the boss, and spent most of her day stretched across the counter, so as not to miss any conversation which might be taking place between the aisles of canned goods and Locharran souvenirs – mainly tea towels sporting an unlikely tropically coloured depiction of the village and the castle. And Queenie was the font of all knowledge when it came to village gossip.
‘Och, it’s yersel’,’ Queenie stated as Ally walked in.
‘I just need a few bits and pieces,’ Ally said, picking up a basket and bracing herself for the barrage of questions to come.
‘Ye was at the Games yesterday, I hear,’ Queenie stated.
‘Yes, I was,’ Ally said, popping a jar of marmalade and one of raspberry jam into her basket. ‘And, before you ask, yes, I did have the honour of accommodating the poor man who was killed, and his family, under my roof.’
‘And they’re stillhere?’ Queenie asked.
‘Well,heisn’t, of course, buttheyare! Where would you expect them to be? This only happened yesterday!’
‘I’ll tell ye somethin’,’ Queenie said, leaning even further across the counter. ‘That wife of his was a local lassie.’
‘Yes, I know that,’ Ally replied, placing her purchases on the counter. ‘Angus’s niece, I believe.’
‘Pat McKay she was before she went off with that Canadian. She always liked the men.’
‘Yes, well, she’s very upset at the moment, naturally.’ Ally wasn’t sure that Patti was all that desperately upset, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell Queenie this.
‘Ach, she’ll soon be findin’ someone else,’ Queenie retorted. ‘Bessie,’ she yelled into the depths of the storeroom. ‘Did ye hear that?’
Bessie emerged from the room with some packs of toilet rolls. ‘No, I didn’t hear,’ she said. She climbed a couple of steps up a ladder to best display the wares, at the same time tugging at her grey, droopy skirt in the hope that no one would see her voluminous pink knickers.
Queenie sniffed loudly. ‘We was just talkin’ about that shootin’ yesterday.’
‘Aye, well they’ll no win any popularity prizes round here,’ Bessie said as she lowered herself carefully down the steps.
‘Our late brother’s granddaughter was dancin’,’ Queenie said proudly. ‘She’s a grand wee dancer is Dolina. And she should have won! She’s the best dancer for miles around! How come thae two girls of Pat’s won? Eh, tell me that? Everyone’s sayin’ how well Dolina was dancin’ better than the McConnachie lass, and a bloody sight better than them girls of Pat’s! Just a shame our Charlie, God rest his soul, is no’ here to see her. Did I ever tell ye about poor Charlie?’
‘Yes, you did,’ Ally got in quickly. She recalled hearing from Queenie, not so very long ago, all about their late brother who, in his normal inebriated state, had met his demise by stepping out in front of the bus from Clachar. That had been the end of him. But – Queenie had added withmuch satisfaction – it had been a ‘grand funeral’, although someone called Ecky, who’d been driving the bus, was never the same again.
