‘Now they’ve found what they think is that poor lassie, it’ll be bad here again,’ she said. ‘Especially for Greg. I hope you’ll stick around for him.’

Greg

He looks like the real thing, was Greg’s first thought as the detective stood up to greet him. Tall and broad with eyes that strove to take in everything about you at a glance.

‘This is Greg Taylor, head ghillie here at Blackrig,’ Harry introduced him. ‘Colin, his assistant, is currently out with a shooting party.’

‘Detective Inspector Snyder,’ the man confirmed. ‘Please take a seat, Mr Taylor.’ He waved at the chair opposite him at the small table, then nodded to Harry that he could go, which he hastened to do.

Snyder leaned back in the chair and completed his study of Greg before saying, ‘First things first. I wondered if there was an estate office we might make use of for interviews? As you can see, this space is not ideal.’

‘I’m sorry. This is a small estate. I run things from my study at Beanach, where I live.’

Snyder nodded. ‘I see. I passed a building next to the church on my way through Blackrig. I take it that’s the village hall?’

‘It is,’ Greg confirmed.

‘Then we’ll headquarter there. Who do I get in touch with about that?’

‘Malcolm Webster, who has the Blackrig Arms, is chairman of the community council.’ He offered him Malcolm’s number. ‘However, there’s a ceilidh being held in the hall tomorrow night – the first since we’ve emerged from lockdown – but there are a couple of rooms at the rear you could probably use.’

Snyder stood up and, taking the number Greg had given him, stepped outside.

Greg strained to listen to what was being said, but it was obvious Snyder had gone far enough away for that not to be possible.

Eventually he re-entered and, resuming his seat, said, ‘The ceilidh’s moved to the pub. We’ll require the full use of the village hall until further notice for the murder inquiry.’

There it was, the word they’d all been avoiding, himself included.

His heart pounding, Greg nodded without comment.

‘So, when did you become aware of damage to the hot tub?’

‘When Colin, my assistant, called me early this morning. He was worried because visitors for the Party House were arriving on the Caledonian Sleeper shortly.’

‘Is that the property’s name?’

‘Sorry, no. It’s actual name is Ard Choille—’ He was about to explain that the locals called it the Party House when Snyder interrupted him.

‘Ard Choille meaning “high wood” in Gaelic, an apt name for it.’

‘You speak Gaelic?’ Greg said, surprised.

‘My family are from Barra. So, I take it the locals have christened it otherwise because?’

‘Folk come here to party. Sometimes annoyingly so.’

‘So there’s ill will towards the place?’