Murder on the Moor Read Free

Helen told her. “Rex did an interview.”
    Rex coughed modestly.
    “Any other private cases in the works?” Estelle asked.
    “I hope not,” he said. “I have my plate full as it is what with this place and my day job.”
    “You’ve done wonders with Gleaneagle Lodge. Helen showed me the before-and-after pictures. I hope you’ll have many happy times here together. Cheers.” Estelle raised her glass in a toast.
    “Thank you. Is that someone at the door?” Certain that he had heard the doorbell, Rex stepped into the hall.
    “Alistair!” he exclaimed upon opening the front door. He gladly accepted his colleague’s gift of a bottle of Glenlivet. “Glad you could make it. Come on through to the library. The women are busy in the kitchen.”
    “You’ve done a lot to this place,” Alistair remarked, looking about him. “I like what you did to the front, or is it the back? I suppose the front is the loch view, right?”
    Alistair Frazer, a man blessed with distinguished good looks and sartorial flair, sank into one of the wing armchairs by an open fireplace, where the unlit logs were piled for effect. His hair, beginning to recede at the temples, trailed in loose curls to the nape of his neck, giving him a Byronic look. His wan cheeks added to his romantic and melancholy air.
    “It was a lot of work,” Rex acknowledged, taking a seat opposite him and contemplating with satisfaction the recently stained wood-paneled walls. “How was your trip up?”
    “Just fine. I took my time. I drove past Rannoch Moor.” Alistair’s face grew somber above his peach-hued cravat. “It’s right desolate. Just miles and miles of windswept peat and bog.”
    “Now, don’t go punishing yourself,” Rex counseled. “You did your best.”
    His barrister colleague had recently prosecuted a child molestation and murder case at the High Court of Justiciary in Edinburgh, and had lost. The victim’s body had been found on Rannoch Moor.
    “It was airtight,” Alistair groaned. “Collins’ blood was found on the wee girl’s body.”
    “The defense argued that he found her after the fact and scratched himself on the brambles while trying to lift her out of the bog.” Rex had not been in court for the trial but had followed the proceedings with interest. The Kirsty MacClure case had been all over the media. Two previous child murders on the moor in the past two years had not turned up any suspects.
    “It had to have been him,” Alistair persisted. “There was no one else around for miles. Every square kilometer was searched from Glen Moor Village to Abercroft.”
    “I know.” Rex shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. “That Kilfarley is a good defense lawyer. Collins was lucky to get him.”
    “It’s a shame we couldn’t get in his previous arrest for child molestation. Kirsty’s murder had his modus operandi all over it.”
    “Possibly, but he had an alibi for the time of death. The jury rightly decided they couldn’t risk sending an innocent man to prison.”
    “Innocent, my eye. Now he’s free and there’s a huge outcry that the culprit hasn’t been caught. Parents are not letting their bairns out to play. Just wait until another child is abducted, strangled by their own underwear. It’s only a matter of time.” Alistair suddenly fell silent as Helen entered the room.
    “Tea, anyone? Nice to see you again, Alistair.”
    “Thanks, lass.” He gave Helen a friendly wink.
    “Aye, don’t mind if I do,” Rex said.
    “You both look like somebody died.” When neither of the men said anything, she added, “Well, tea it is, then,” and left the room.
    “Nice woman, your Helen,” Alistair murmured. “Cheerful and wholesome.”
    “She is that.”
    “Do you discuss your trial cases with her?”
    “Not usually. We don’t get to see each other that much, what with her living in Derby, so I prefer to keep off the subject of work, especially when it involves something as upsetting as the Kirsty