Murder on the Moor - C. S. Challinor [28]
“Want me to come with you?” Cuthbert asked.
“I’d rather you stayed behind and held the fort.”
On the spur of the moment, he had decided that Cuthbert, despite his predilection for shooting deer, was more of a known quantity than the other men. Hamish could not be accounted for after he had gone to bed, nor Alistair, for that matter. The two youngest men, Rob Roy Beardsley and Donnie, he knew least of all.
Plus, Cuthbert did not look like he had the strength to force a dead weight through the window, even a wee thing like Moira. As for the women, Rex could not be sure …
He hoped he was right about Cuthbert; Cuthbert had the rifle. Under the circumstances, Rex could not confiscate it.
“Right-oh,” Mr. Farquharson said self-importantly, tossing Rex the keys to the Land Rover.
“Alistair,” Rex began, leading his colleague out of earshot. “Can you keep an eye on the body?”
“No problem. I’ll get my jacket.”
Rex turned back to the group. “Please, all of you, stay in the house. Make yourselves comfortable. I won’t be long.”
“I’ll come with you,” Helen said, jumping up from the sofa. “You weren’t thinking of leaving me alone with this lot, were you?” she asked as they pulled on their anoraks and Wellington boots in the hall.
“Nay, lass.”
“I can’t wait to get away. You can just feel the tension in the house. Shona and Hamish had a huge big row this morning, going at it like hammer and tongs—”
“What were they arguing about?” Rex cut in.
“They were in their room. I only heard raised voices and Hamish calling her a stupid cow.”
“Charming.” But then Shona had been equally uncomplimentary about her husband’s snoring. He led Helen outside by the arm. “Look, there’s something we need to clear up.”
“What about?”
“Last night I woke up to find you weren’t in bed.”
“I must have been in the bathroom. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d take one of the pills I gave you for Alistair.”
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“I don’t know … I was tossing and turning, worrying about Moira.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was trying so hard to win you back.”
They stood under the stone porch watching the rain, which had redoubled its assault.
“She seemed quite taken by Alistair, I thought.” Rex flipped his hood over his head in preparation for the dash to the Land Rover.
“You are such a modest fool, Rex. She was trying to make you jealous by singling out the most eligible bachelor in the house. That’s why she so brazenly flirted with him.”
“Oh—I see.”
“Really, Rex,” Helen said almost crossly. “For someone so intelligent, you can be truly dense at times.” She tucked her blond hair inside her hood. “Come on. Let’s go.”
They ran across the driveway to the white Land Rover. At that moment, Alistair approached them. “Look here,” he murmured, rain trickling down his lean features. “Moira’s body has been interfered with.”
“What do you mean?” Rex demanded.
“The tarpaulin has been moved.”
“Is she exposed?”
“Not exactly. It’s as though someone took a peek and hurriedly covered her up again.”
“The boy might have taken a look,” Helen said. “It’s only natural at his age.”
“That’s what I thought,” Alistair concurred. “And he’s not quite right in the head.”
“My bet is equally on the dad,” Rex told them. “He has a reputation for being overly fond of the ladies.” Hamish had stared inappropriately at Helen the previous evening, as he remembered with distaste.
“Not surprising, considering the mousy thing he’s married to.”
“Alistair!” Helen chided.
“Well, what do I know?” Alistair gave a graceful shrug, the shoulders of his gray jacket growing darker beneath the deluge. He stuck his hands in his pocket. “I’m gay,” he added. “In case you hadn’t guessed.”
“I had.”
“Alistair, please see to it no one else is disrespectful to Moira’s body,” Rex implored him. “I should not have let Donnie go back in the stable, but I thought it would be okay if his dad was there too. If I had time, I’d knock Hamish’s block off, even if just for not teaching his son better manners. Look,