The stickiest part came when they got on to actions taken last night after the discovery of the body. ‘Yes, yes,’ Bailey said. ‘MacNee was policing the site, and Hay came to raise the alarm, but you haven’t told me what you were doing, Marjory.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m afraid I had to go to bed.’ There was an awful silence, then, ‘To bed?’ ‘I’m sorry. I had concussion when the car crashed and I was quite simply unfit to continue.’ Fleming could almost hear Bailey recalling the regulations about harassment. ‘I – see. But Marjory, the golden hour, when we have our best chance of good evidence, wasted!’ ‘I agree, it was most unfortunate. But now I have officers in place . . .’ She went on to describe the tasks she had allocated and her own activities – background checks to be made on Crozier, interviews to be done with family – and talked bullishly about Alick Buchan as the prime suspect. As always, Bailey liked the thought of a straightforward you’re-nicked-sunshine.
