“No!” the old man said. “And that wasn’t like her. She might live in that big house, but she’s not one for sticking her nose in the air.” He turned towards the red-faced man, who had returned to his seat and his magazine. “ Not like some of the women in this village. Mrs. Parry usually brings her Guinness down here and has a chat with us. Last night she sat up at the bar and didn’t say a word to anyone. She was white as a ghost.”

“Which locals were in?” Ramsay asked. “ Colin Henshaw? Charlie Elliot?”

“Colin Henshaw doesn’t come in here often,” the barmaid said. “Charlie Elliot’s on the darts team, but he went just before Mrs. Parry arrived.”

“And that doesn’t happen very often, does it?” one of the darts players shouted. “ It’s not often that Charlie leaves before you do, is it, Maggie? Doesn’t he usually wait to walk you home?”

She looked suddenly angry and embarrassed, and Ramsay thought how difficult it was for an outsider to settle into a village like Brinkbonnie or Heppleburn. There was obviously some attachment or tension between Maggie and Charlie Elliot, and if he reacted wrongly, he would break the mood of the whole conversation. He decided to ignore the comment and continue with his questions. If the relationship between Charlie Elliot and Maggie was relevant to his investigation, it could be explored later.

“I was relieved Charlie went early,” Maggie said.

“I bet you were,” the darts player shouted again. “Been making a bit of a nuisance of himself lately, hasn’t he? You should tell the inspector about it. Perhaps he’d be able to arrange police protection, or perhaps you enjoy it, really.”

Again she ignored him. “I was relieved Charlie went early,” Maggie said, “because I was afraid he might make a scene. After the way he treated Mrs. Parry at the meeting.”

“Were you at the meeting in the hall yesterday afternoon?”

“No,” she said. “I couldn’t get there. But I heard what happened.”

Of course, Ramsay thought, the whole of Brinkbonnie would have heard about Charlie Elliot’s rudeness to Alice Parry.

“Did Mrs. Parry walk back to the Tower on her own?”

She looked at the old men. “Did anyone go up the hill with Alice?”

“Aye.” It was the old man with the almost unintelligible accent who regarded the landlord with such venom. “I took her home.”

“But that’s out of your way, Joe,” the barmaid said.

“All the same,” he said. “I think I’m enough of a gentleman to know what’s right. I took her home.”

“All the way?” Ramsay asked.

“To her drive.”

“Did you see anyone else on the way?”

“No.”

“You didn’t see Charlie Elliot?”

“I’ve told you. We didn’t see a soul. Besides, Charlie would have been long home by then.”

“Was there anyone in the churchyard?”