Lamb to the Slaughter by Aline Templeton

of footprint evidence, which is unfortunate, but there’s apparently visible disturbance of the soil and broken twigs in the bushes to the left of the front door, so it looks as if someone rang the bell and hid, then when Carmichael came out to see if anyone was there, stepped out in front of him and shot him. If we have a suspect they’ll be able to do analysis of the shoes, of course, to match up with the samples they’ve taken of soil and gravel.
    ‘Annie Brown claimed that he’d been planning to attend the superstore meeting in St Cerf’s Hall, and what he was wearing – blazer and regimental tie – supports that. There was also food untouched in the fridge which looked as if it was meant for his supper. The meeting started at six-thirty so we’re focusing on the earlier time, at least initially.
    ‘That’s about it. What have you got for me?’
    Kerr picked up the notebook she had laid on the desk and flipped it open. ‘Andy and I split up. Seemed better use of manpower at this stage.
    ‘I went to see Annie. She’s in quite a state, but dead keen to get whoever did this to “the Colonel” locked up. She’d reckoned he’d be at the meeting, but she didn’t fall over backwards when he never appeared. He’d been under a lot of pressure because if he refused to sell the Craft Centre, the deal wouldn’t go through.
    ‘He’d been worried about the effect on the community – a laird complex, if you ask me –’ Kerr sniffed, ‘and he’d been subsidising the Craft Centre too. Patron of the Arts – saw himself as Kirkluce’s answer to the Medici family, no doubt.’
    Wilson was grinning, but Macdonald protested, ‘Come on! My auntie says he was a nice man – old school, but always ready to help if you’d a problem. Too soft for his own good, she reckoned.’
    Kerr was unabashed. ‘That’s class guilt. And people like your auntie and Annie still have the servant mentality – my granny was in service when she was a girl and she still goes on about “the Family” – Miss Mary this and Master Charlie that.’
    ‘Come on, Tansy, we’re not here to discuss your social hang-ups,’ Fleming said firmly. ‘Save it for the pub and stick to the point. Anything else?’
    ‘Sorry, boss. That sort of thing just gets right up my nose.’ She turned over a page. ‘Anyway, Annie thought he was ace. His wife died recently, an invalid for a good while and a cantankerous old besom, as far as I could make out, but the sainted Colonel was wonderful with her.
    ‘And he’d no children so now the whole thing will go to the nephew, Annie says, Giles Farquharson – daft name – and she’s no time for him. He and his wife Fiona – what else? – have been round every ten minutes, trying to push him into selling up to ALCO. Out for the pickings, jackals round a lion, according to her. Been watching too many David Attenborough programmes.
    ‘I think that’s about it.’ She shut the notebook.
    ‘Why did Annie go round to see him this morning?’ Macdonald asked. He’d been scribbling notes and frowning in concentration, Fleming was pleased to see – shaping up quite well, was DS Macdonald. She wasn’t so sure about Wilson; he was sitting back in his chair, as if not having been involved at the start meant that this wasn’t much to do with him.
    ‘Carmichael hadn’t turned up to read the lessons at church,’ Kerr said, ‘so the alarm bells rang. Oh, and she’d been taking church flowers to give to someone housebound – dropped them on the gravel, she said.’
    ‘I was wondering about that!’ Fleming exclaimed. ‘Thought it might have been some sort of kinky tribute left by the killer. Good to have it cleared up. Thanks, Tansy. Any questions? Will? You’ve got a lot to catch up with.’
    It was a pointed remark, but it didn’t lodge in its target. Wilson shook his head. ‘Nothing too complicated there. I reckon I’m up to speed.’
    ‘If you’re sure.’ Fleming let a pause develop, then when