Clare ignored this reference to her time as a firearms officer. A time when she had shot and killed a young lad who she’d thought was about to shoot her. They’d all thought he was about to shoot her. Problem was, the gun turned out to be a replica. Clare was exonerated, even commended, for her actions but it had left a rotten taste; and so she’d applied for a transfer, ending up as the DI in St Andrews. How many years was it now? Three? Nearer four, but still the likes of Tony McAvettie wouldn’t let her forget it.

‘But remember the CCTV,’ Chris went on. ‘From the bus station. It’s a clear shot of Zac and Abe walking into town. And neither of them’s carrying anything that could be a rifle. You don’t stick a gun like that down your breeks.’

Clare nodded. ‘Good point. The gun must have been waiting for him in the house.’

‘So one of the party’s involved?’ Chris said.

She shook her head. ‘Not necessarily. Anyone who knew about Gaby’s booking could have posed the gun there, ready for Zac. And it’s a holiday house, don’t forget. All sorts going in and out: folk from the rental agency, cleaners, other holidaymakers. Or it could have been left somewhere in the grounds.’

Tony rose from his chair. ‘Well whoever it is, find him and get him charged. The press are making a huge deal of it and I’m getting pressure from above.’

‘Gee, Tony,’ Clare snapped. ‘I didn’t think of that!’ She stood quickly, sending her chair flying back. ‘C’mon then, Chris. Let’s go ’n’ solve the case.’

Chapter 24

‘You shouldn’t let him get to you,’ Chris said, as Clare accelerated along the road towards the Brodie Hotel. ‘He only does it to wind you up.’

‘That’s rich coming from you,’ she said, taking the corner a bit too fast. ‘At least I didn’t burst his nose.’

Chris reached for the grab handle above his window. ‘You might want to slow down a bit.’

Clare hit the brakes. ‘We’re here anyway.’ She turned the car sharply into the car park and shot nose-first into a vacant space, jerking on the handbrake. Then she snatched the key and clicked off her seatbelt. ‘Coming?’

Chris stayed put. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you in this mood. You might be the DI and me only a DS but if you go storming in there you’ll have more than Tony to worry about.’

Clare sank back in her seat and exhaled noisily. ‘I know. Sorry, Chris. It’s just…’

‘You don’t have to tell me. I thumped him, remember?’

She nodded. ‘Yeah. I do remember. Sometimes I forget what an arse he is.’ Her phone began to ring and she fished it out of her pocket, switching the speaker on. ‘Anything doing, Jim?’