Authors: Doris Davidson
McGillivray’s hand detained her. ‘I’m afraid there’s something else you ought to know, Mrs Wakeford.’
The two words he’d used to prefix his caution alarmed her, and she stared at him anxiously.
‘Adam Valentine’s been arrested for the murder of Janet Souter, and he was attempting to strangle Mrs White when we reached him.’
‘Oh my goodness!’ She sat down weakly. ‘What a tragedy. Poor woman. But . . . she needs me more than ever, now.’
‘She’s waiting in the car outside. I’ll bring her in.’
When Muriel Valentine walked through the door, she stood uncertainly for a moment, then she took a step forward, and, in the next instant, their arms were around each other and tears streamed
down both women’s faces.
The inspector closed the door quietly behind him and walked to the car. ‘They’ll be alright, Moore,’ he said, gruffly. ‘Come on. Our work here’s
finished.’
Once inside, he observed, ‘That Janet Souter must’ve been a real number-one bitch, to have four different people trying to do away with her, not to mention the Reverend, who made a
proper job of it. It’s unbelievable.’
‘You’re right there, sir.’ Moore released the handbrake. ‘But you nailed him in the end.’
Pulling out his seatbelt, McGillivray laughed modestly. ‘Not without the help of my friend Mrs Gray, although Douglas Pettigrew could have put us on to him earlier, if he’d
remembered a bit sooner.’
He relaxed against the back of the seat and sighed. ‘You know, I couldn’t believe it when the old lady told me she’d seen the minister sneaking away from the house next door,
and even when Mrs White confirmed it, I thought she was kidding. It’s funny how the mind refuses to credit anything it doesn’t want to. I’m slipping, lad.’
‘It’s because he was a minister,’ Moore sympathised. ‘We don’t want to believe bad things about ministers.’
‘I’ve come across a few bad ministers in my time, and doctors, and any other profession you can think of, including ’tecs, but . . . I don’t know. Valentine struck me as
a decent sort, and I was obsessed with getting to the bottom of the arsenic racket.’
‘And so you did, sir. Everything’s explained now.’
‘Aye, but I wasted a lot of valuable time on it, when it really had nothing to do with the case at all. Anyway, it’s back to the Granite City tomorrow, so you can make out the final
report there.’
This gave David Moore the opening he’d been needing to ask about something that had niggled at the back of his mind for some time. ‘Inspector, what are you going to do about Mrs
Wakeford and the raspberry jam?’
Callum McGillivray turned his head, and his mischievous eyes met his sergeant’s briefly. ‘What raspberry jam, lad?’
BIRLINN LTD (incorporating John Donald and Polygon) is one of Scotland’s leading publishers with over four hundred titles in print. Should you wish to be put on our catalogue mailing
list
contact
:
Catalogue Request
Birlinn Ltd
West Newington House
10 Newington Road
Edinburgh EH9 1QS
Scotland, UK
Tel: + 44 (0) 131 668 4371
Fax: + 44 (0) 131 668 4466
e-mail: [email protected]
Postage and packing is free within the UK. For overseas orders, postage and packing (airmail) will be charged at 30% of the total order value.
For more information, or to order online, visit our website at
www.birlinn.co.uk