‘I´m hoping that it's someone who broke into the
house looking for money,' she said quietly, 'but I
think it probably isn't.'
Logan said nothing. Alice Maclennan looked at
Logan and then down at her hands.
'I think it's probably someone I know,' said Alice
Maclennan, 'maybe someone I'm close to. And
that's a terrible thought.'
'I know. It must be very difficult for you,' said
Logan. 'Sadly, it almost certainly is someone close
to you or your husband.'
Alice Maclennan stood up and walked across the
room to the window. Then she turned round and
looked at Logan. 'Well, who do you think it is and
what do you want me to do?' she asked.
'As far as I can see, it's good news for two people
that your husband is dead - Ian Ross and your
brother. Ross hated Alex. Your brother needs
money badly and you will now be very rich.'
Alice Maclennan sat down again. 'That's true,' she
said very quietly.
'What I want you to do,' said Logan, 'is phone
both Ross and your brothter. Tell them that Mr
Fraser, who lives in Harden Place just behind your
house, has called the police. He saw someone
climbing into your bathroom the night your
husband was murdered. Tell Ross and your
brother the police artist is going to Harden Place
tomorrow morning to draw a picture of the person
Mr Fraser saw.'
'And what do you think will happen?' asked Alice
Madennan.
'The murderer will want to talk to Mr Fraser,'
answered Logan, 'and we will be there waiting.'
Alice Maclennan sat quietly, thinking. 'I need to
think what to say,' she said.
Logan sat quietly. Alice Maclennan looked at her
and gave a small smile. 'Did you know that I was
an actress before I met Alex?' she said.
'Yes, I knew that,' said Logan.
Alice Maclennan turned and picked up the phone.
Harden Place was a small street near Polwarth
Gardens. Number eight was on the left-hand side
of the street. lt had a small front garden and a
red front door.
The ground floor of the house was quite small. At
the back of the house was a long living room with
double doors which opened into the back garden.
There were trees in the back garden and a wall
on each side.
In the living room a man was sitting in an
armchair in front of the fire. He was wearing old
grey trousers and an old blue jacket and he had a
large black moustache. He was smoking a
cigarette and reading the newspaper. lt was
eleven o' clock in the evening and dark outside.