MacDonald sighed. “I wish I could have seen the body as it was, but I’ll look at the pictures. Never as good as the real thing, but it’ll have to do.”

“Couldn’t be helped, lad. What would y’have me do? Leave Sir Robert there? I mean, it’s one thing if it’d been some janitor, but this was the boss!”

“I understand. You did what you could. The two that found the body—no chance of complicity in the affair?”

“I’d doubt it. Low-level clerks workin’ in the supply system in town, not even Institute folks. Comin’ out here on a slow day to enjoy a few hours beach time on the boss and maybe a little nookie. Besides, their only prints, to and from, cross a high tide mark after the high tide, so they couldn’t have been here until at least ten thirty, and that’s too late.”

“Just checking. Anybody who notices something like that doesn’t need me, though. You’re a good cop, Mathias.” They stopped at the base of the cliff trail. “Okay, they find the body, run back into town, fetch you and a few others, and you all come running up the beach and see the scene. Then what?”

“I checked the body and ordered everybody back from the scene. It was some time before I could tell whose body it was for sure, although I knew from the clothes who it had to be. I sent me gal Friday, Sandy, back to ring up the Institute and give ’em a tentative I.D. Warned ’em to come only by the main road and then to the beach, too. They didn’t listen. The whole place up there erupted with security about five minutes later, but I yelled and cussed a blue streak at ’em and threatened to shoot any one of ’em that came down.”

“You don’t carry a gun. Even most of them don’t.”

“Yeah, but in the shock and all they didn’t remember that. Otherwise we’d have had a bloody mess out here instead of a near perfect reconstruction. Those photos, by the way, were done by the Institute but I doubt if there’ll be any funny business with ’em. Took ’em in three dee, so they should be good’n gory. Got top shots of the whole scene, too.”