“Tell me. What was it?”

“Alistair McKinstry.”

Chapter 24

24

STUNNED, RUTLEDGE ASKED GIBSON TO REPEAT THE name. He did.

“I asked for a physical description as well.” But the engraver had relied on the name. “He finally told me that the man was Scots—medium height, medium coloring, medium build. He might remember more if you confronted him with McKinstry. Then again, he might not. He wasn’t interested in the man, only the work that he was being paid to do.”

Rutledge thanked him and slowly put down the telephone receiver.

He refused to believe it. In the first place, it made no sense. McKinstry had been Fiona MacDonald’s champion from the very beginning—

Hamish said, “He had access to a key to The Reivers.”

Fiona MacDonald had said that McKinstry had probably seen her wearing her mother’s brooch. He must have known that it existed. And it would take him only a short time to search Fiona’s room for her jewelry.

The brooch had become the final brick in a wall of evidence against her.

But why—?

It made no sense. Rutledge, a seasoned investigator, found it hard to accept. Hard to believe that he had misjudged a man so completely.

He took out his watch. And made a swift decision. His first stop was the police station. But McKinstry wasn’t there. Oliver was.

“Where have you been?” he asked jovially. “Still hunting for straws to make bricks?”

“In a way. Look, I’m going back to Glencoe. I want to see the place where the bones were found.” It was not something he wanted to do.

“You climbed up there with MacDougal. There couldn’t have been much to see. The bones are gone. The place has already been minutely examined by MacDougal’s men. A wasted trip, if you ask me.”

“I know. Put it down to stubbornness. At any rate, will you give Inspector MacDougal a call and ask him to meet me there? I’d be grateful if he can spare the time.”

“All right. If that’s what you want.” Oliver added, “I’m surprised to see you in Duncarrick again. Any news to give me on Eleanor Gray?”

“Not so far. I’ve got a list of names to sift through. That can wait until I see the glen again. I’d like to save myself all that trouble.”

Intrigued, Oliver said, “You’re saying we overlooked something.”

“No. I’m saying I might see things differently.” He took out his watch, trying to cut the conversation short. “I’ve got another stop to make before I leave.”

Oliver let him go. Rutledge walked back toward the hotel and then went on to the rectory. Mr. Elliot, Dorothea MacIntyre informed him, was out, visiting a parishioner who was ill.

“It’s just as well. Do you mind if I step in and leave a message?”