“The working day was over, then. She glanced at her watch, warily. Seven-thirty p.m. The official delegation left a temporary fence of orange netting surrounding the excavation and probably scaring the sheep. It shone like a beacon—There’s something interesting up here! But so far, any attempt by the reporters keeping vigil at the end of the drive to penetrate the fastness of Pitclachie had been repulsed by a flying squad of constables, the same constables who had admitted the various witnesses ...to the house and ushered them out again after they’d given statements about Tracy’s death. Jean had said her piece without provoking any reaction from Sawyer, who showed as much personality as mud from his post at the windows of the dining room. Did he realize he’d royally teed off his boss? He had to. He was an obnoxious overbearing ego on two legs. He wasn’t stupid. Now the last of the car doors slammed and silence fell over the house and the hillside, broken only by the occasional burst of amplified voices or music from the Festival field.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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