"Salmon, Mr. Wallace. In your testimony, you saw hundreds of salmon, yet according to the expert testimony of your own son, there are no salmon in Loch Ness this season, and certainly not in a winter month. So how do you explain seeing so many salmon on February the fifteenth?"

"I'm no' a marine biologist, I jist saw whit I saw."

"Let's return to what you said. In your testimony, you claimed Mr. Cialino owed you a final payment on land you had sold him. How much was the final payment for?"

"Fifteen thousand pounds."

"And he never paid you?"

"Naw."

The prosecutor walked over to his assistant, who handed him two manilla envelopes.

From the first, Obrecht removed a Xeroxed copy of a bank check. "Do you recognize this, Mr. Wallace?"

Angus stared at the note. "Aye. It's a cancelled cheque for my last payment."

"And what's the date on the cheque?"

"February 23."

"Paid a week after Mr. Cialino's death. And upon whose account was the money drawn?"

"Theresa Cialino."

The courtroom buzzed with opinion.

"So Mrs. Cialino paid you a week after you were arrested for her husband's murder? Do you find that a bit suspicious, Mr. Wallace?"

"Since when is honesty suspicious? Theresa kent whit happened tae her husband wis an accident, an' I needed the money for my heart medicine. They've got my land. A deal's a deal."

"Yes. The question, of course, is what deal you're referring to. The real estate transaction… or something else." The prosecutor opened the second folder, removing a set of color photographs. "Mr. Wallace, do you recognize these?"

Angus leafed through the set. "It's a bed "n' breakfast in Dores. One photie's o' me, another's o' Theresa Cialino. Whit' yer point?"

"How often did the two of you rendezvous at this particular bed and breakfast?"

"Rendezvous? Ye make it sound as if we were sneakin' around."

"Just answer the question," Judge Hannam said.

"Dinnae really ken. Maybe half a dozen times. The chef's an auld pal o' mine. Makes the best oatcake an' haggis, neeps an' tattie this side o' Fort William. Been there wi' Johnny an' a'."

"And how long have you known Mrs. Cialino?"

"We met seven or eight years ago."

"Did her husband know the two of you had been meeting at a bed and breakfast in Dores?"

Another murmur rose, but quickly died.

"I widnae ken. Ye'd need tae ask him."

Obrecht returned to his desk, his assistant Jennifer, exchanging the photos for a thick file. "Mr. Wallace, would it surprise you to learn that John Cialino had hired a private investigator to follow his wife?"

"No' at a'. Theresa's awfy bonnie, as ye can see, an' Johnny wis awfy paranoid."

"Yes or no, Mr. Wallace, were you and Mrs. Cialino having an affair?"

I glanced from Angus to the widow, as did most of the courtroom. She sat stoically, staring straight ahead, but her jaw muscles were clenched.