Someone had put a bunch of daffodils on the pavement outside the post office. It was a form of apology. No-one believed that Charlie had murdered Alice.

In the house behind the garage the Kerrs were finishing a meal. As the policemen approached they heard Maggie shouting at one of the boys that it was rude to leave the table without asking to be excused. The snapping ill temper seemed out of character and her voice was strained. Olive Kerr let the policemen into the house. As she opened the door to them she realised she was still wearing a pinafore and took it off, apologising.

“We’re not ourselves today,” she said.

When Maggie saw Ramsay and Hunter, she turned on the boys again. “Go on and run the bath,” she said. “ You’re big enough to do it yourselves now.” Then, when she thought they were about to argue: “You can use some of my bubble bath. It’s on the bathroom shelf.” They leapt away up the stairs, whooping with glee.

Olive took the half-empty plates into the kitchen, and when she came back they were still standing, staring at each other. At the head of the table, his head bowed so that the bald patch gleamed in the electric light, stood Tom Kerr.

“I expect you’ve come about Charlie Elliot,” she said. “We heard this afternoon. It’s a terrible thing to have happened.”

“Sit down,” Olive Kerr said, and obediently they all sat around the dining table like delegates at some conference, or, Ramsay thought, very aware of Tom Kerr, like members of a church committee. He almost expected the man to suggest that they pray. It wouldn’t do any harm, Ramsay thought. They didn’t have much else to go on.

“How can we help you, Inspector?” Tom Kerr asked, and the normal quiet voice broke into Ramsay’s fantasy and startled him.

“I need to ask your daughter some questions,” Ramsay said. “ If you feel you have any information to help us find out who killed Charlie Elliot, I’d like to hear from you and Mrs. Kerr, too. But I’m here to speak to Maggie.”

“Would you like us to leave you alone with her?” Tom Kerr asked, but Ramsay shook his head. Something about Kerr’s still, almost fanatical presence concentrated the mind. He turned to Maggie.

“What time did you get home on Saturday night?” he asked. “I spoke to the regulars at the pub, but you didn’t tell me what time you got back.”

“It was late,” she said. “Gone one o’clock.”

“Did you see Charlie Elliot as you came back from the Castle?”

“No,” she said. “He’d left the pub much earlier. I think I told you. It was a relief.”