"So what about Felicity?"

"Why her? She's chust a bit of a lass." Parry's accent, like that of Hamish, grew more sibilant when he became excited or upset.

"I don't know," sighed Hamish. "I'm clutching at straws. Then there's this thing about him turning religious. Know anything about that, Parry?"

"We didn't talk much. No, I can't call to mind any sort of religious talk."

"I'll try to find out from Jimmy Anderson if some weird cult has started up in Strathbane. He won't need to know I'm still investigating. I'll make it sound like idle curiosity."

Parry glanced up at the window. "There iss herself coming back after her walk."

"Right," said Hamish, getting to his feet. "I'll have another wee word with her but I doubt I'll get very far."

He walked next door to Felicity's chalet. The door was open and she was reaching up to take a cup down from a shelf in the kitchen. She turned and saw Hamish in the doorway. The cup fell from her fingers and smashed on the stone floor.

"I'm sorry I startled you," said Hamish gently. He walked into the kitchen, saw a dustpan and brush by the rubbish bin and, crouching down, neatly swept up the broken shards and put them in the bin.

"What do you want?" demanded Felicity shrilly.

"Now, then." Hamish leaned against the kitchen counter. "This is on my beat and I dropped by to see how you were."

"I'm all right," said Felicity defensively. "If that's all, I have chores to do."

"There's chust one thing I must ask you again," said Hamish. "Why did you tell me you and Tommy were only neighbours when from all reports you were closer than that?"

She was wearing a long gown of shimmery silk material of many colours. It made her look more waiflike than ever.