Free Death of a Kingfisher by MC Beaton

Braintree?’
    ‘Yes, that is so.’
    ‘We’ll leave you to the inventory,’ said Jimmy. ‘Mr and Mrs Palfour, if you don’t mind, I wish to take statements from both of you.’
    He turned to Hamish. ‘I like that idea of a test site. See what you can find.’

Chapter Five
    The cruellest lies are often told in silence.
    – Robert Louis Stevenson
    Hamish felt quite sulky as he drove off with Dick. ‘I would have liked to stay for those interviews,’ he complained at last. ‘I don’t like being sidelined.’
    ‘Well, that’s what you get for being the village bobby,’ said Dick cheerfully. ‘Where do you think of looking first?’
    ‘Perhaps that old quarry outside Craskie. They’d want something with a bit o’ height.’
    ‘They?’
    ‘I’m sure that more than one person is involved.’
    ‘What about Mary Leinster and her brothers?’
    ‘Why them?’ demanded Hamish sharply.
    ‘Well, her millions go to Mary.’
    ‘Not to Mary. To the trust.’
    ‘Books can be fiddled.’
    ‘Don’t be daft, man. Jimmy and his detectives will have thought o’ that one. Now shut up and let me concentrate.’
    They searched the quarry, but there weren’t any signs of sinister activity. Hamish sighed. ‘There’s another one, off the Drim Road.’
    ‘I’m hungry,’ complained Dick.
    ‘You’re always hungry,’ snapped Hamish. Dick had put him in a bad mood by talking about Mary. Was he letting his feelings for her cloud his brain? Well, he would need to go on as usual, suspecting everyone. It was another raresunny summer day, with the air dry enough to keep the horrible biting Scottish midges at bay. The mountains had that comforting blue look about them. It was only when rain was about to arrive that every detail stood out sharply as if on a steel engraving.
    They reached the quarry outside Drim. Hamish let Sonsie and Lugs out and then filled up their feeding bowls and water bowls.
    Dick muttered something under his breath about Hamish caring more for his pets than one hungry policeman . Hamish had parked on the lip of the quarry. He began to make his way carefully down the side with Dick stumbling and cursing after him. The roads that trucks had once used to enter the quarry were now made impassable with a thick carpet of brambles and gorse.
    ‘I’ve got something,’ called Hamish from the floor of the quarry. Dick came panting up to join him. ‘See, there’s a sort of cradle here that might have held a rocket, and there are scorch marks on the ground. I’d better phone Jimmy and get forensics on to this.’
    ‘Now can we eat?’ asked Dick plaintively.
    ‘Aye, we’ll go into Drim. I want to ask Jock Kennedy who runs the local shop whether any strangers have been seen around.’
     
    Jock said that one of the locals, Andy Colluch, had said he thought someone was blasting in the old quarry a week ago but when Andy went there the next day he couldn’t see anything. They got directions to Andy Colluch’s croft. Dick dug his heels in and demanded food first. Ailsa, Jock’s wife, took pity on him and said they sold hot snacks and she could let them have a couple of mutton pies.
    Hamish waited impatiently until Dick had gulped down the last of his pie and said sharply, ‘Let’s go.’
    Dick wondered what had happened to the usually laid-back Hamish. But Hamish was feeling driven. It was thesheer malice and wickedness of the death of Mrs Colchester that was getting to him. She could have been strangled, poisoned, or hit on the head. Why go to this elaborate means of murder?
    Andy Colluch, a wizened old crofter, volunteered the information that as he was driving back from Strathbane a week ago, he thought he saw lights over by the old quarry and heard an explosion. He had gone up the following day to check whether someone was opening up the old quarry but had not seen anything.
    Hamish phoned Jimmy with what he had found out, and Jimmy had said he would send a team over as soon as they had finished with