“I don’t know,” Charlie muttered. “Perhaps I realised she wasn’t worth it. I’d had a lot to drink.”

Ramsay said nothing, waiting for Charlie to expand his explanation.

“Look!” Charlie cried. “Perhaps I’d come to my senses, realised I couldn’t carry on like that. I’d decided to leave the village. I’m going to look for work in the south.”

Ramsay nodded his understanding but gave no indication of whether he believed Charlie. He continued impassively: “ What time did you get home?”

“About eleven o’clock, I suppose.”

Ramsay turned to Elliot, who was stirring tea in the pot. “Is that right?”

Elliot hesitated, then nodded. “Aye,” he said. “ I always wait up for him. I know it’s daft.”

Ramsay returned his attention to Charlie. “ Did you see Mrs. Parry on your way home?”

“No.” Charlie had recovered some of his composure and was showing off. “I didn’t see her, but then I’d had eight pints of Scotch. I might not have noticed.”

Ramsay stared out of the misted window. “ So you can’t remember what you did,” he said. “You were drunk.”

“I can remember fine.”

“Did you stop on the way?”

“No,” Charlie said. “Why should I stop? It was cold.”

“Did you meet anyone in the street?” He spoke in a flat, courteous civil-servant’s voice.

“No.” Charlie was sneering. “Most of Brinkbonnie’s in bed by ten o’clock. It was dead quiet.”

Then his triumph at remembering despite the alcoholic haze overcame his resentment of the policeman. For the first time he contributed freely to the conversation. “ There was a girl! In the churchyard. I saw her when I came out of the Castle.”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t recognise her. She was all right. Young, you know.”

Ramsay gave no sign that the information was of any importance to him. He turned back to the window. “Did you speak to her?” he asked.

“I might have shouted to her,” Charlie said. “ Something about it being a cold night.”

“Did she answer?”

“No, snooty cow. She walked through the gravestones towards the Tower. She looked like a bloody ghost.”

“Did she go through the gate into the Tower garden?”

“I didn’t see. I wanted to get home. I needed to piss.”

“What did the woman look like?”

Charlie shrugged. “It was hard to tell in that light,” he said. “Small, dark. I think she had long hair.”

“And what was she wearing?”

“How should I know? She was on the other side of the wall. I couldn’t see much more than her head.”

“You are sure,” Ramsay said slowly, “that there was a woman? This isn’t a game to annoy the police.”

“Oh,” said Charlie. “Think what you like.” He swore under his breath.

Ramsay ignored him. “ Did you notice a car near the green?” he asked. “ One not usually parked there?”