I waited around for a while to see if Darcy would join us or if there were any developments with the police. I rather feared that the local constabulary would be so in awe of the participants in this drama that they would be quick to write it off as an accidental death. And maybe it was. I hoped that Darcy would at least suggest to the police that they bring in an inspector from Aberdeen. Suddenly I wanted to be away from the stifling atmosphere of that sitting room. I took my leave and drove back to Castle Rannoch—more slowly this time. I didn’t want to risk running into Paolo, the racing maniac, again. As I turned onto the stretch of road that ran beside the loch I saw there was activity at the landing stage and I pulled off to see what was happening. The blue speedboat was in the water, a few yards offshore, with several people working on it. Belinda was sitting with Conchita on the dock, the latter sporting a rather daring halter top and shorts. Belinda was also wearing shorts and their bare toes dangled in the water. It was a delightfully innocent scene. I got out and went over to join them.

“Having fun?” I asked.

“Oh, oodles of fun, buckets of fun,” Belinda said, rolling her eyes. “Conchita and I were just agreeing we can’t remember when we had a more scintillating day.”

“Is there anything more boring than men who talk about nothing but machines?” Conchita agreed. “First Darcy and Augustus go off and leave us, in order to shoot poor little birds, and then Paolo and the American and Ronny do nothing but talk about motors and propellers and equally boring things. We were so glad when the weather improved and at least Belinda and I could sunbathe, but the boys forgot to bring any deck chairs.”

“An altogether annoying day,” Belinda said. “Were you part of the shoot at Balmoral?”

“I was over there, paying my respects to the queen, but I didn’t shoot with them. And I’m rather glad I didn’t join them because there was a horrible tragedy. You remember Hugo Beasley-Bottome? He was shot and killed.”

“Madre de Dios,” Conchita said, and crossed herself.

“How utterly awful,” Belinda said. “Frankly I thought he was a frightful bore and a little too greasy, but he didn’t deserve to die. Who shot him?”

“They don’t know. The theory is that he wandered ahead in the mist and into the line of fire.”

“Horrible.” Belinda shuddered. “What a dope he was. You’d think someone would have basic common sense about staying with the group, wouldn’t you?”

I nodded. Belinda looked at Conchita. “I don’t suppose Ronny’s heard yet,” she said.