6 The Queen of Scots Mystery Read Online Free PDF

longer without getting exhausted and muddled. He had thought he’d seen a flash of sympathy or something similar in the eyes of the even younger of the two, but it was the other one who was asking most of the questions. Neil thought he might be an inspector, but he was wearing cycling shorts and a T-shirt, which didn’t seem appropriate, and Neil had forgotten how the man had introduced himself.
    ‘So there was no way Mr Johnstone could have got into the cellar unless you’d forgotten to lock the door? Was it locked when you first got to it this morning?’
    ‘Yes.’ Neil remembered putting the key in the lock and turning it. And of course if it had been unlocked Liam might have been able to escape before he suffocated. If that was what had happened. Nobody had told Neil anything much yet at all.
    ‘Was there any other way in?’
    ‘No – yes! Of course! That must have been it. But why?’ Neil spoke the thoughts aloud as they came to him. His eyes refocused on the two men across the table. They were giving him a funny look. ‘Sorry – the beer delivery. That was Friday morning. That must have been when he got in – I had the trapdoors open. For the delivery men. But we didn’t see anybody go in there. And why would he do that anyway?’
    He was aware he was rambling too much and that a lawyer would have told him to shut up. But he hadn’t wanted a lawyer at the start in case they thought he had something to hide. He had, of course. Didn’t everyone? Should he ask for a lawyer now? Or would they think that even more suspicious?
    ‘So you’re saying Liam Johnstone could have got into the cellar while the delivery was going on?’ said the older, tougher-looking policeman. ‘But he wasn’t on your radar.’
    ‘That’s the only thing I can think of,’ said Neil , ignoring the part about the radar. ‘The door’s almost always locked. Even when it isn’t, nobody can go in without one of us seeing them.’
    ‘And was there a time during the beer delivery when that could have happened without anybody seeing him?’
    ‘I can’t remember.’
    ‘It was only yesterday!’
    ‘I wasn’t really paying attention.’
    ‘No brownie points for not paying attention,’ said the same policeman slowly. ‘Doesn’t tick any of my boxes. How many men came with the delivery?’
    ‘Two, as usual.’
    ‘And did they both get out of the lorry?’
    ‘Yes, of course they did. How do you think they could get the beer into the cellar otherwise?’
    The policeman glanced up frowning under his well-groomed eyebrows. Had Neil missed something? Was it now acceptable for men to pluck their eyebrows or otherwise train them into a neat shape? Did everybody secretly think he was a caveman because he didn’t? He tried to picture some of the people who frequented the Queen of Scots, asking himself which of them was most likely to pluck their eyebrows.
    ‘… or not?’ said the policeman.
    Neil realised he had missed at least half the question. ‘Um – what was that again?’
    ‘Come on, Mr Macrae, you can’t get out of answering with this village idiot act. Were the beer delivery men the usual ones or not? Was there anything that smelt wrong about the whole setup?’
    Village idiot! Ha! He was a learned professor compared to most of the people he saw at the other side of the bar on a daily basis.
    He decided he had better answer the question though. ‘Yes, one of them had done the delivery a few times before. I’m not sure about the other one. He could have been new to the round. He was a bit slower than they sometimes are.’
    ‘Names?’
    ‘No – I mean, I don’t know. They’re from Aberdour Breweries, if that’s any use.’
    ‘ Could be,’ said the policeman, making a note. He nodded to the younger officer. ‘Do you want that drink of water now, Mr Macrae?’
    It was as if the water were a prize for getting an answer correct.
    Even the way the junior officer presented it to him was reminiscent of a school