Ramsay could see that the Land Rover had arrived at the farm. Soon it would begin to climb the track again with Hunter and the scene of crime team. Before then, before the concentration on detail, he wanted to order his thoughts.

When Hunter arrived, he was driving the Land Rover himself. He had enjoyed the trip from the farm to the hill immensely. Action was what he had joined the police for. He had imagined high-speed car chases and midnight stakeouts. He had received the call about the discovery of Charlie Elliot’s body on his return to his car after talking to Mary Raven’s friend. He had driven straight to Brinkbonnie, jumping red lights, scaring old ladies on pedestrian crossings. Manoeuvring a Land Rover too fast up a slippery, occasionally dangerous track was action, too, and provided some compensation for the hours of boredom and routine.

When he got to the barn, Ramsay was still outside, deep in thought, apparently surprised to see them though he must have heard the noise of the engine miles away.

“You were right then,” Hunter said angrily. “Charlie Elliot didn’t kill Mrs. Parry.”

“I don’t know!” Ramsay said. “ I don’t think we can be certain of anything at this stage.” He saw that Hunter was wearing green Wellingtons that had remained miraculously clean.

“What do you mean?”

“That we must keep an open mind.”

Hunter walked past him and stood at the entrance of the barn, looking inside. The scene of crime team had begun their work.

“He was stabbed then,” Hunter said. “ Just like Mrs. Parry.”

“All the same,” Ramsay said. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Charlie Elliot had enemies in his own right. It could be a copy-cat murder committed by someone with an alibi for the time of Mrs. Parry’s death. The murderer might have thought we’d assume both were killed by the same person.”

“It doesn’t sound very likely,” Hunter said.

“Perhaps not,” Ramsay said. “ But as I see it there are three possibilities. The first is the copy-cat theory—someone wanted to be rid of Charlie Elliot and saw Mrs. Parry’s death as an excellent opportunity to cover it up.

“The second is that Charlie Elliot murdered Mrs. Parry and he was killed as an act of revenge. Mrs. Parry was popular. Her support for the Save Brinkbonnie campaign stirred a lot of emotion in the village.” He remembered Olive Kerr, red-eyed and desolate, and Fred Elliot’s moving description of his affection for Mrs. Parry. He could imagine a sense of outrage so ferocious that it led to murder.

Hunter yawned theatrically. He had never taken to being lectured.

“And the third possibility?” he asked.