A Double Death On The Black Isle - Plot & Excerpts
He could have done this by phone, but he fancied the trip and the company of an old friend. A copy of the new Gazette lay on the passenger seat. He would glance at it from time to time and grin. Not that he would ever let anyone know, but he thought it was “grand”—his word, the Highland word of highest praise. The road through the Great Glen Don knew “like the back of ma hand.” But familiarity did not lead to any degree of contempt. Every twist, every turn, every view over loch and hill and distant mountain, he relished. The easy run out of town; the first glimpse of Loch Ness; the haunting remains of Castle Urquhart, halfway down the chain of lochs; the former army fort built to house soldiers, there to quell the Highland clans; Ben Nevis snow deep on its slopes and folds and crevices, were familiar sights, yet still sights that made his heart glad. When he arrived in the town on the sea loch at the end of the glen, Don made straight for his friend Graham Nicolson’s shop. The building was long and low and whitewashed and consisted of a general grocery; a newsagent; an attached cottage; and a shed out the back for the hardware, timber, animal feedstuff, and coal.
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