Felicity Maundy obviously knew something. Perhaps he would try her again. The following day was Sunday, his day off. He would put on plain clothes and see if that made him any less intimidating to her.

As he approached Sean's cottage, the following day, he saw the old man working in his garden and so drew to a halt outside the front gate and climbed down from the Land Rover.

"Morning, Mr. Fitzpatrick," said Hamish.

Sean straightened up from weeding and surveyed Hamish silently.

"It seems the monster in Loch Drim might be nothing more than seals."

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Sean threw weeds into a bucket at his feet.

"I took a walk along the path that leads to the sea from Drim. There's a.colony of seals on the rocks at the end."

"That's odd," said Sean. "I thought there had been several sightings of something strange."

"Oh, you know how it is here," said Hamish easily. "We pick up a good story and then we all embroider it."

Sean shrugged and bent over his weeding again.

Hamish leaned on the garden fence and watched him. The day was milky grey and mild. It was very still, the sort of day where sounds carried from a long distance. It would be grand, he reflected, not to have to worry about the Jarrets, just let everything slide. Sean straightened up and surveyed Hamish with some impatience. "Was there anything else, Officer?"

"You seem to hear a lot of gossip, although you keep yourself to yourself. Hear any more about the Jarret boy?"

"Nothing much."

"Anything at all?"

"Only that he'd turned religious."

"I heard a bit about that. Any idea if he went to church and if so which church?"

"Somebody said in my hearing it was some sort of odd religion that had started up in Lochdubh."

"The Moonies?"

"No, it wasn't them."