Free Death in a Cold Spring (Pitkirtly Mysteries Book 9) by Cecilia Peartree Page A

and pretending to be very interested in the bench at the side of the pavement.
    They passed the kiosk where Giancarlo had sold coffee before he went to America. Nobody else had taken it on, and Amaryllis wondered if the Council would just demolish it one of these days without anybody really caring. Then she wondered if she might actually be a councillor by then and have a say in things like that. Although Amaryllis rarely felt humbled by anything or anyone, this was somehow a humbling thought.
    ‘It’s going to get vandalised and turn into an eyesore,’ Jock predicted, noticing her looking at it.
    There was a sort of scuffling sound as he said it, and the wee white dog nearly jumped out of its skin.
    ‘Rats,’ said Amaryllis.
    ‘What?’
    ‘I mean, there must be rats in there. They’ll be feasting on the remains of Giancarlo’s amaretti biscuits.... Mmm, I miss those.’
    ‘Nothing to do with missing the boy himself, is it?’ said Jock suspiciously.
    ‘I’m old enough to be his mother,’ said Amaryllis. ‘Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?’
    ‘Hello!’ said Charlie, as they all came face to face. ‘I didn’t know you’d joined the dog-walking set, Amaryllis.’
    ‘Is there a set? I didn’t think it was that organised.’
    ‘What have you been up to?’
    ‘Why should I have been up to anything?’
    ‘Oh, come on,’ said Charlie. His dog sank down at his feet, head on paws, preparing for a wait. ‘I’m not a policeman any more, Amaryllis. You can tell me what brings you down here at this time of day with Jock McLean. He’s your accomplice in everything, after all.’
    ‘Hey!’ said Jock. ‘I’m nobody’s accomplice. I’ve settled down and I’m never getting dragged into one of her schemes again.’
    ‘You’ll only grass on me to Keith Burnet,’ said Amaryllis to Charlie. She did feel a bit as if the tablet might be burning a hole in her backpack. ‘Can you remember what days and times the police station’s open?’
    ‘It’s etched on my memory,’ said Charlie. ‘Why do you want to know?’
    ‘I’ve got something to hand in,’ said Amaryllis reluctantly. ‘I found it at the harbour.’
    She told herself there was no reason to believe it was connected with the artists’ case – if there was indeed a case. It could just be a piece of lost property. It was just coincidence that she had overheard Keith talking about a ‘device’ and then gone straight out and found it.
    But if there was one crucial thing being a spy had taught her, it was when to rely on instinct.
    ‘We could give Keith a ring,’ said Charlie. ‘He’d probably come over and pick it up.’
    There was no reply from Keith’s mobile.
    ‘He’s maybe on his way somewhere,’ said Charlie.
    ‘Rosyth,’ said Amaryllis gloomily.
    He stared at her. ‘How did you know that?’
    ‘She’s been tracking his movements,’ said Jock, laughing. They were all crowded into the entrance to the Queen of Scots so that they could listen to Charlie making the phone call, and so that Amaryllis could speak to Keith if they got hold of him. ‘Any chance of opening up for a pint?’ Jock added. ‘It’s nearly time.’
    ‘All right, you’ve talked me into it.’ Charlie looked at Amaryllis. ‘Do you want me to leave a message for Keith?’
    ‘I suppose so.’ Amaryllis was still sulking about Keith going to Rosyth ahead of her.
    ‘I’ll tell him you want to confess everything when he has a minute, then.’
    ‘It’ll take a lot longer than a minute,’ muttered Amaryllis.
     

Chapter 6 Between Christopher and his conscience
     
    Halfway through the morning, when Christopher was sitting at the kitchen table again and going through the Fotheringham Archive, a long-standing project of his, he had a call from Sergeant Macdonald informing him that the crime scene people had finished in the Cultural Centre.
    ‘Best if you go back in yourself first before opening to the public,’ said the Sergeant. ‘There could