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Milly enjoyed a relatively peaceful day. But as evening approached and there was no sign of her sister-in-law, she began to fret. She went up to Philomena’s room. All her clothes were still hanging in the wardrobe.

She phoned Hamish Macbeth. “It’s not like her. For days, she hasn’t left me alone for a minute, and now she hasn’t even phoned. She said she was going to Inverness to do some shopping.”

“Have you a photograph of her?”

“I might have an old one somewhere.”

“Look for it. What was she wearing?”

“A heather-mixture tweed suit with brogues.”

“Hat?”

“No hat.”

“What was she driving?”

“A Ford Escort.” Milly gave Hamish the registration number.

“Phone me as soon as she gets back,” he said, “but I’ll let you know if we find her.”

Milly said goodbye, put down the receiver, and sat staring at it. Then she phoned Tam Tamworth. He was not in the office, but he had left her his mobile phone number.

“Now then,” said Tam when she told him about her missing sister-in-law, “I wouldnae put it past thon wumman to stay away jist to frighten you. But I’ll go look.”

The next morning, a family stopped at the viewpoint on the Struie Pass to admire the view: father, mother, and two small children, the Renfrew family up from Glasgow.

“Aren’t the Highlands just grand,” said Ian Renfrew, taking his binoculars and getting out of the car. “Come and see the view.”

“You go,” said his wife, huddled in the front seat. “It’s as cold as hell out there.”

A wind was screaming across the heather. The children in the backseat, Zak, age ten, and Gypsy, age nine, were listening on their iPods and ignored their father.

He swept the horizon with his binoculars, first towards Western Fearn Point on the Kyle of Sutherland and across the kyle to Creich Mains and then focussed them on the burnt-out wreck of a car far down one of the braes below, just before he was preparing to put the binoculars away.

His eyes sharpened as he adjusted the focus. He could see a black mass inside the wreckage which looked like a body; a little way away on the heather was one shoe.

He felt a bit sick. He got into the car and took out his phone. He called the police and reported that there was a burnt-out wreck of a car below the viewpoint on the Struie Pass and he was sure there was a body in it. His wife stared at him in alarm.

“We’ve tae stay right here,” he said.

The children finally unplugged their iPods and whined, “Why are we stopped?”

“Your father’s seen a dead body in a car down the brae and we’re to wait for the police,” said Mrs. Renfrew.

“Cool!” chorused the delighted children.

Hamish arrived on the scene. A forensic team was having difficulty erecting a tent over the car and body because of the strength of the wind. “What do you think, Hamish?” asked Jimmy. “Lost concentration and went off the road?”

“Not a hope wi’ a fire like that,” said Hamish. “It’s only in the movies that they burst into flames like that. Some accelerant was in that car. It’s her, all right. They cleaned the number plate and it matches with hers. Damn! I’ll tell you what probably happened. She found one letter in that secret drawer and decided to play detective herself. Now she said she was going to Inverness. If she thought she was so clever, she’d arrange to meet whoever in a public place. Where?”

“Shopping mall?”

“Probably some hotel bar,” said Hamish. “And let’s hope it’s some hotel bar with CCTV.”

A shocked and weeping Milly had found a photograph of Philomena addressing a Women’s Institute meeting. It was a good clear shot, and it was circulated to the police and to the newspapers.

A waitress from the Dancing Scotsman came forward to say she recognised Philomena. She had been talking to a woman. Then she seemed to take faint and the woman had helped her outside. Another witness turned up. He had seen a woman answering Philomena’s description being helped into a four-wheel drive with tinted windows. No, he could not see who was driving.

The police were excited. They felt it was only a matter of time before they caught the killer. There