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didnae make any mistakes; he just focused a bit too hard on his finishing time, that's al . You know what the night shift's like. Short spells of action mixed in with long periods of near-terminal boredom.'
    'You're right there. But you wait till you're in my job. There isn't a minute of your life you can cal your own completely, with no fear that the phone'l ring.'
    'It'l be double for you from now on then, wi' your man's promotion.'

    Maggie Rose was rarely surprised. 'How did you know about that so soon?'
    'Hah! You think e-mail's fast? It's got nothing on the force grapevine.
    Be sure to congratulate Mario for me, will you?'
    'Of course. Thanks, Laurie.'
    She hung up, slipped the report and photograph back into the folder, and leaned back in her chair, musing on the curse that Alexander Graham Bell had visited on mankind.

    6
    She was calm by the time she heard the big Dodge Caravan crunch its way up the gravel driveway. She opened the heavy front door to greet them; three of them, Andy Martin, Neil Mcl henney, and his wife, Louise, picked up on the way to Gul ane.
    The two women embraced. 'Neil called to tell me what had happened,'
    Lou murmured. 'He and Andy thought you might welcome a woman's company, and since Bob's daughter is working on secondment in London . . .' Her voice faltered for a second. 'Oh, I am so sorry,' she exclaimed, hugging her again.
    Sarah felt herself begin to go again, but held on to her composure, steeling herself not to fold in front of the two men, however close to her and Bob they might be.
    'Thanks, Lou,' she replied. 'Come on through to the conservatory.'
    She led the way from the entrance hal of the modem bungalow, towards the big glass-walled room, which looked out over the Forth estuary, drab and grey in the dul spring day.
    'Can I do something?' asked Louise, making a conscious effort not to sound as if she wished she was somewhere else. 'What about the children?'
    Sarah gave her a weak smile. 'They're fine. Mark's at school, James Andrew's dismantling his toys in the play room, and Seonaid's having her afternoon sleep. Tell you what, though; you could pour the coffee.
    I've made some in the filter.'
    'Of course. What does everyone take in theirs?' She glanced at Martin.
    'Nothing. Black, please.'
    'Right now, I'll take brandy,' said Sarah. 'You'l find the cooking stuff in the cupboard above the coffee pot.'
    'That's a done deal.' She turned and walked through to the kitchen; she had visited the Skinners on several occasions and knew her way around.
    Left with Sarah, the two detectives looked from one to the other. It was she who broke the awkward silence. 'Sorry I was useless when I 22

    cal ed you, Andy. But the phone cal came as such a shock; it just floored me, I did the little woman thing, went into complete hysterics, and upset the kids in the process.'

    'Okay,' he murmured. 'Now sit down, and tell us exactly what happened.'
    She nodded and settled into one of the cane-framed conservatory chairs. 'It happened just after one o'clock. I was clearing up after lunch with the kids when the phone rang . . . It's Trish the nanny's day off,' she added, irrelevantly.
    'It was the New York State Police. A gruff-sounding guy asked me if I was Sarah Grace, the daughter of Leopold and Susannah Grace, of Buffalo, New York. The sound of his voice was enough to scare me right there. I said I was and he went right into it.' Her accent seemed to roughen. 'No messing about. "I'm sorry to have to tell you, ma'am, that I'm at the scene of a double homicide, at your folks' lakeside cabin. It appears they've been murdered."
    'I didn't say anything for a long time; I remember holding on to the kitchen table, and hearing the guy ask if I was al right. Eventual y I said that I was far from al right. I asked him to repeat what he'd just said, and he did. I asked if he was sure of the identification, and he said
    "Yes, ma'am." He suggested that I should maybe cal a doctor. I shouted into the phone, "I am a