‘He’s retired so he should be at home, and being a teacher Jen Wilson’ll be busy first thing – taking the register and stuff.’ He paused. ‘That’s if they take the register now. They always did when I was at a school.’ Campbell snorted. ‘Oh, I know, doesn’t prove anything. When I was in primary you could still get the strap across the back of your legs – you’d get locked up for that now.’ ‘First left, then,’ Campbell said, pointing to the street name. Donald Falconer’s house was in a smart new development at the back of the village. They could hear the sound of a vacuum cleaner as they rang the bell and the door was opened by a sweet-faced woman with very bright blue eyes and a fluff of grey curls who greeted them with a friendly smile when they showed their warrant cards. ‘Oh, police,’ she said with the happy confidence of the blameless. ‘What can I do for you? Donald? Oh, the neighbourhood watch, is it?’ Not waiting for an answer, she led them towards the back of the house.
