Lamb to the Slaughter by Aline Templeton Page A

he didn’t speak nodded to Andy.
    ‘There seem to be two opposite theories going the rounds – he was killed because he wouldn’t sell the Craft Centre, or else he was killed because he would. I thought getting my aunt to explain the set-up there was a useful starting-point. Do you know the layout?’
    ‘Looked in years ago, when it opened,’ Fleming said. ‘I’m not really in the market for the stuff they sell and I never have time for coffee.’
    ‘Ellie Burnett seems to be the most favoured tenant. She’s got a nice wee flat as well as the shop and the rumour is she doesn’t pay much for it. The Colonel, my auntie says, has a soft spot for her.’ He paused. ‘Well, I’ve seen her singing down the pub, and you would, wouldn’t you?
    ‘Romy Kyle’s been the one leading the opposition to selling. He did up the workshop for her, no expense spared, so she’s a lot to lose – quite a temper too, by all accounts. Then there’s Ossian Forbes-Graham – successful painter, has indulgent parents with an estate a few miles away. It’s a second marriage; there’s a stepsister who runs a riding school somewhere, but Ossian’s the apple of their eye.
    ‘Seemingly he’s besotted about Ellie. Saw her performing so took the unit when it came up for rent last year – there was a bookbinder before who moved out. The only other one is Alanna Paterson, who makes pottery, but she’s not young and seemingly isn’t too bothered about losing the shop. The other three are desperate it shouldn’t be sold, for one reason and another.’
    ‘And what about your auntie? She’ll have a problem too, won’t she?’ It was the first question Will Wilson had asked. There was an edge to it, and Fleming looked at him sharply.
    ‘Not really.’ Macdonald’s voice was determinedly level. ‘She’s sixty in a couple of months and she’s giving up. Booked a world cruise already. And just to make sure, I checked where she was last night, and she and my uncle were on a theatre trip to Glasgow with the Rotary Club. Left at four, got back after midnight. All right?’
    ‘Hey, hey!’ Wilson said, putting his hands up. ‘It was a reasonable question.’
    ‘Sure it was,’ Macdonald said. ‘And you got a reasonable answer.’
    Fleming looked from one to the other. She said nothing, at the top of her voice, and it was Wilson who began to shift in his seat first.
    ‘Sorry. I was out of order.’
    ‘Let’s put that to one side – for the time being.’ It wouldn’t do him any harm to sweat. ‘So, Andy – anything else?’
    ‘She said that Romy was absolutely convinced that Carmichael would refuse to sell, but she wasn’t so sure herself. There was a stack of money involved, and there was a lot of people leaning on him. Councillor Gloag, for one, who seems to have his fingers in the pie right up to the elbow.’
    ‘Annie mentioned him too,’ Kerr added. She had been, Fleming thought, uncharacteristically silent during the exchanges between Wilson and Macdonald. ‘And I’m not sure she was totally convinced about him saying no either.’
    ‘That’s what my aunt said. Hated upsetting people. Liked a quiet life.’
    ‘So to sum up: what emerges is two distinct camps, one of which has a motive if he’d decided to sell, and the other if he decided not to sell. Well, it leaves the field wide open, anyway.
    ‘Does that cover it, then? There’s door-to-door stuff going on, and I’ve asked for a printout of all the shotgun licence holders in the area. I’ll be drawing up an action plan for the briefing tomorrow – eight-thirty sharp.’
    Fleming looked after them thoughtfully as they went out. Why was it that, no sooner had one personnel problem resolved itself, another appeared?
    Wilson and Macdonald had seemed to be on good enough terms, until Macdonald’s promotion. Will had always been a bit of a golden boy, good-looking with his blond curly hair and ready smile, and a competent officer. Andy had fewer years of