There was the shuffle of feet approaching the door. At last, an overweight middle-aged woman dressed in a housecoat opened the door. She did not look drunk.

‘Whad’ya want?’

If anything, David thought, the woman appeared wary, causing his belly to tighten with apprehension.

‘We’ve a report of a disturbance. I’ll have to ask that you step aside.’

Wariness gave way to subdued panic. ‘There’s no need! There’s no problem here. You must be misinformed.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ David told her, pushing his way in firmly but discreetly. ‘Where is Mr. Skinner?’

‘Eh? Who?’

Lame, David thought as he began checking the flat. The woman became agitated when he moved towards the bedroom.

‘Here, would you like a dram or a cup of tea? He won’t be decent-’

Opening the bedroom door, David saw at a glance that this was true.

He was also quite dead.

‘Would you like something to read?’ the woman asked him without much hope.

Yes, David mused, everything’s back to normal.

DCI Lorne Michaels listened to David’s assessment with reserved pride. The deceased, Archie Skinner, had been bludgeoned to death. The suspect, a Ms. Sissy Algood, wasn’t talking, but she had not a spot of Mr. Skinner’s blood on her, and there had been a lot of it. Which could only mean that she was not the killer, that she was covering for someone.




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