“What did you say?” Jonathan had gone straight to his bookshelf and had taken down a copy of Birds of the Western Palearctic. He and George had been discussing snowy owls and there was something he wanted to check. He had not been listening to his wife.

Sylvia laughed, went over to her husband, and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

“You see? He’s incorrigible. What can I do with him?”

The food was good and Palmer-Jones enjoyed talking about birds with Jonathan and the island with Sylvia. She could capture the individuals of Kinness with one witty phrase—cruel, but amusing.

After the meal they sat by the fire, drank coffee, and read. It was very peaceful. I’m an old man, George thought. This is how I should be spending my time. After all, it’s not my problem. But he could not leave it alone. There were two questions—had Mary been murdered? And if so, what should he do about it?

He got up from his seat by the fire and went to stand by the window. He looked towards Kell and the steep, grey hill beyond. Someone was walking past the deserted croft by Kell. It was Jim Stennet’s new wife. She was lost to his view beyond the post office. She stopped and looked about her, then hurried on.

“I think I’ll go for a walk,” he said. “ Get some fresh air and walk off some of that delicious lunch.”

Sylvia looked up from her book and smiled. He was afraid for a moment that she was going to offer to accompany him, but she only nodded. Jonathan was still absorbed and seemed not to hear him.

He found Sarah in the graveyard. She was studying one of the gravestones and seemed engrossed in the inscription. She turned suddenly and he realized that he had startled her.

“Excuse me,” he said.

“That’s all right. I’m just enjoying the last of the sun.” She felt foolish, standing in the graveyard.

“And the peace. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

Suddenly she was pleased to see him. He seemed very English and ordinary. Very familiar.

“I think perhaps we should walk on down to the road past the school house,” he said. “I came to find you. I need your help.”

“But I’ve told you. I don’t know anything about birds. I shouldn’t be any help.”

“It’s not that. I need your advice.” He hesitated. “It’s about Mary.”

“I don’t understand. I thought that it was all decided. The police accepted that you were an independent witness. They seemed quite satisfied about how she fell, and that no one could have prevented it.”

“That’s just my problem. They are quite satisfied. But I’m not.”

He hesitated again. “I don’t believe that her death was an accident. I think that she must have been pushed.”

“You think that she was murdered?” Her voice was incredulous and the word sounded ridiculous.