“Well, I won’t have it! We’ve got witnesses to what Betty Lawlor had to say—yourself included! You’ll confirm in the courtroom what she said. Or I’ll have you up for perjury!”

Rutledge gave him the name of the jeweler’s shop anyway. “Send McKinstry to look into this. It may not be true. If it isn’t, I shall retract any objections I have to the brooch as evidence.”

Suspiciously: “Why McKinstry?”

“He won’t like doing it. But he’ll be thorough. For the sake of the accused.”

Mollified, Oliver said, “I’ll do that, then!” And he stalked off.

Hamish said, “If the constable took the brooch to Glasgow, he’ll no’ come home and tell Oliver his own name’s put to the engraving card!”

“No,” Rutledge agreed. “It will be interesting, won’t it, to see how he handles such a minefield. If he gives Oliver the right name, he’ll be crucified before the Inspector can draw breath. And if he doesn’t give the right name, it will make him look worse when the truth does come out.”

He walked into the lobby of the hotel. The savory aroma of baked apples and cinnamon reminded him that he’d had no luncheon. There was a rattle of dishes and utensils coming from the dining room, which meant they might be serving still. His stomach growled at the thought.

He was halfway down the passage to find out, when the clerk at the desk called, “Inspector Rutledge? A telephone message just came for you. You’re to return the call at your convenience.” She reached into the drawer where messages were kept and handed one to him.

Rutledge thanked her and walked on to the dining room, opening the folded sheet as he went.

It was from Durham. The office of a law firm.

He knew who had called him.

Thomas Warren.

ABANDONING LUNCH, RUTLEDGE went to the telephone closet and closed the door behind him.

He got through to Warren straightaway and identified himself.

Warren asked, “Have you had any luck? Finding the man you’re after?”

“Not yet. I found a nurse who’d been matron at Saxwold. She gave me another name. Major Alexander. Does it ring any bells?”

“Alexander? ’Fraid it doesn’t. No, sorry.”

“He was in Palestine. Wounded there and was brought into Saxwold while Burns was a patient.”