for a cup of tea, since you had the keys burning a hole in your pocket. Seeing that report on her computer screen must have been a hell of a temptation. I can't say I blame you. Any journalist worth their salt would have been hard pressed to ignore it."
"I didn't go near Ros's flat. I was never on the eighth floor. I went straight to the sixth floor, had a look round, then I left," Lindsay stated.
"Surely you don't expect me to believe that?" Fraser asked incredulously. "Missing out on the chance of a nice little earner like that? Come on, admit it, Miss Gordon, it happened just like I said. I've heard all the excuses. Now, how about coming up with the truth? It would save us all a lot of time in the long run."
Lindsay shook her head vigorously. "You're way off beam. Look, even supposing I had let myself into Rosalind's flat and seen the report, I wouldn't have needed to stage a burglary. I know about computers, for God's sake. All I would have had to do would have been to make a copy of the file on to another disc and walked out of there with it in my pocket. No one would have been any the wiser. When the story broke, no one would have been able to trace it back to me or to Rosalind. Like I said, Rosalind is a friend of mine. I wouldn't have wrecked her flat just to cover my back, not when I could have protected both of us by quietly copying the disc."
For the first time, Lindsay thought she saw a flicker of doubt in Fraser's blue eyes. "I don't know," he finally said. "Maybe all that sophisticated logic didn't occur to you on the spur of the moment. Maybe you just saw the chance and acted on it."
"Look, apart from anything else, I wasn't even in the building long enough to make such a thorough job of it," she protested.
"Protesting a wee bit too much, aren't we?" Fraser asked sarcastically. "Just run through your movements yesterday afternoon for me. Let me work it out for myself."
"I was with a lawyer called Claire Ogilvie until about quarter past three. Then I drove straight to Caird House. I walked up from the garage to the sixth floor, stood on the landing for about three or four minutes, then travelled down in the lift with Ruth Menzies from Flat 7B. Then I drove to Wunda Wines on Dumbarton Road, bought two bottles of Italian wine, and drove back to my friend's flat. Where your boys picked me up today. I arrived there about four. A woman called Cordelia Brown, who's staying with Miss Ogilvie, was waiting for me in the street. I spoke to her for a few minutes, then went upstairs. My friend Helen Christie told me about the burglary, and we went round to Rosalind's flat. Inspector Ainslie saw me there later."
"I'll want a statement to that effect," Fraser said, getting to his feet. "Do you want to call your lawyer before you commit yourself to paper?"
Lindsay nodded, and at last she was escorted to a phone. She caught Jim Carstairs just as he was leaving his office, and he promised to come right away. To her surprise, Lindsay found her hand was shaking with relief as she replaced the receiver. Being in the hands of the police again had clearly frightened her more than she was prepared to admit to herself.
An hour and a half later, she stood with the lawyer in the police station car park, having written out a full statement of her movements the previous day.
"I don't think they're going to give up on you that easily," Carstairs said.
"No," Lindsay sighed. "It looks like I've got a burglary to solve now as well as a murder."
----
8
Lindsay drove past the floodlit car park of the Daily Clarion and parked on the street just past the modern skyscraper that housed the plant and offices of Scotland's top tabloid newspaper. She got out of the car, shivering as the damp evening chill made her fasten her sheepskin jacket, and walked towards the security office by the back door, the entrance used by the paper's many staff. It felt strange to be taking the familiar route back into a building that had once been as much
"I didn't go near Ros's flat. I was never on the eighth floor. I went straight to the sixth floor, had a look round, then I left," Lindsay stated.
"Surely you don't expect me to believe that?" Fraser asked incredulously. "Missing out on the chance of a nice little earner like that? Come on, admit it, Miss Gordon, it happened just like I said. I've heard all the excuses. Now, how about coming up with the truth? It would save us all a lot of time in the long run."
Lindsay shook her head vigorously. "You're way off beam. Look, even supposing I had let myself into Rosalind's flat and seen the report, I wouldn't have needed to stage a burglary. I know about computers, for God's sake. All I would have had to do would have been to make a copy of the file on to another disc and walked out of there with it in my pocket. No one would have been any the wiser. When the story broke, no one would have been able to trace it back to me or to Rosalind. Like I said, Rosalind is a friend of mine. I wouldn't have wrecked her flat just to cover my back, not when I could have protected both of us by quietly copying the disc."
For the first time, Lindsay thought she saw a flicker of doubt in Fraser's blue eyes. "I don't know," he finally said. "Maybe all that sophisticated logic didn't occur to you on the spur of the moment. Maybe you just saw the chance and acted on it."
"Look, apart from anything else, I wasn't even in the building long enough to make such a thorough job of it," she protested.
"Protesting a wee bit too much, aren't we?" Fraser asked sarcastically. "Just run through your movements yesterday afternoon for me. Let me work it out for myself."
"I was with a lawyer called Claire Ogilvie until about quarter past three. Then I drove straight to Caird House. I walked up from the garage to the sixth floor, stood on the landing for about three or four minutes, then travelled down in the lift with Ruth Menzies from Flat 7B. Then I drove to Wunda Wines on Dumbarton Road, bought two bottles of Italian wine, and drove back to my friend's flat. Where your boys picked me up today. I arrived there about four. A woman called Cordelia Brown, who's staying with Miss Ogilvie, was waiting for me in the street. I spoke to her for a few minutes, then went upstairs. My friend Helen Christie told me about the burglary, and we went round to Rosalind's flat. Inspector Ainslie saw me there later."
"I'll want a statement to that effect," Fraser said, getting to his feet. "Do you want to call your lawyer before you commit yourself to paper?"
Lindsay nodded, and at last she was escorted to a phone. She caught Jim Carstairs just as he was leaving his office, and he promised to come right away. To her surprise, Lindsay found her hand was shaking with relief as she replaced the receiver. Being in the hands of the police again had clearly frightened her more than she was prepared to admit to herself.
An hour and a half later, she stood with the lawyer in the police station car park, having written out a full statement of her movements the previous day.
"I don't think they're going to give up on you that easily," Carstairs said.
"No," Lindsay sighed. "It looks like I've got a burglary to solve now as well as a murder."
----
8
Lindsay drove past the floodlit car park of the Daily Clarion and parked on the street just past the modern skyscraper that housed the plant and offices of Scotland's top tabloid newspaper. She got out of the car, shivering as the damp evening chill made her fasten her sheepskin jacket, and walked towards the security office by the back door, the entrance used by the paper's many staff. It felt strange to be taking the familiar route back into a building that had once been as much
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