Then, at the top of the ridge across from him, he caught a slight shift of light and shadow and again threw himself to one side.

But this time there was no shot. MacDougal’s car was just below, the motor’s noise rising to where Rutledge was crouching. Close enough now to hear a rifle—

Rutledge shaded his eyes, looking intently for movement.

But the sniper had vanished, ducking over the opposite ridge, invisible now.

It would be impossible to catch up with him— Furiously angry, Rutledge wheeled to look for the spent bullet. He combed the area where he was certain he had seen the small slide of rock chips. It must have struck a stone and ricocheted.

He searched carefully—but he never found it.

INSPECTOR MACDOUGAL, GETTING out of his car as Rutledge reached the road again, said, “You’re a great man for the climbing!”

“Good exercise,” he answered, thinking of Mrs. Holden.

“Better you than me! What is it you’re looking for up there, that you need me to act as guide?”

“I’ve seen all I need to see on the mountain. Now I’d like to find that young girl, Betty Lawlor.”

“The one who discovered the brooch. Any particular reason you’d like to speak to her?” MacDougal looked at him speculatively.

Never infringe on another man’s turf. It was a cardinal rule Rutledge followed. “Yes. I’d like to hear how she came to have the price of a new pair of shoes.”

“As I remember, she said she’d earned them.”

“Yes, no doubt she had. I should have asked her how.”

“What does that have to do with finding the brooch?”

“It might have been the price of convincing her to turn it in. I find it hard to believe, thinking back on it, that a child as poor as that would come to you to ask if she could keep the brooch.”

“I wondered about it, of course. But the family is honest enough. The father’s a drunken sod, but the mother is proud as peacocks. And she’s taught her children to be honest as far as I can tell. Besides, how in hell’s name would anyone know that Betty Lawlor had found a brooch out here in the middle of nowhere? It’s far-fetched, Rutledge!” But he shrugged and pointed down the road. “The croft is just before the end of the glen. Shall we take both cars or leave one here?”

Rutledge had no wish to find water in his petrol again. Or a bullet through a tire. “We might as well take both.”

“Safe enough here,” MacDougal said. “But it’s your choice.”

He pulled out ahead of Rutledge to lead the way.

Hamish warned, “Watch your back!”

Rutledge said, “No. He won’t risk firing again. Not with MacDougal ahead of us. How did anyone know I was here? I told Oliver—”