"He was off his face that night. You can't say what he could or couldn't do when he's in that state," Mondo said.
"Enough." Ziggy's voice cut through the atmosphere of mistrust and discomfort like a blade. "You start that and where do you stop? I was out there too that night. Alex actually invited Rosie to the party. And come to that, you took a hell of a long time taking that lassie back to Guardbridge. What kept you, Mondo?" He glared at his friend. "Is that the kind of shit you want to hear, Mondo?"
"I never said anything about you two. There's no call for you to have a go at me."
"But it's all right for you to have a go at Weird when he's not here to defend himself? Some friend you are."
"Aye well, now he's got a friend in Jesus," Mondo sneered. "Which, when you think about it, is a pretty extreme reaction. Looks like guilt to me."
"Stop it," Alex shouted. "Listen to yourselves. There's going to be plenty of other people ready to spread the poison without us turning on each other. We need to stick together or we're sunk."
"Alex is right," Ziggy said wearily. "No more accusing each other, OK? Maclennan's just dying to drive a wedge between us. He doesn't care who he gets for this murder as long as he gets somebody. We need to make sure it's not one of us. Mondo, you keep your poisonous notions to yourself in future." Ziggy got to his feet. "I'm going down to the late shop to buy some milk and bread so we can all have a cup of coffee before those hairy-arsed Tories get back and clutter the place up with their English accents."
"I'll come down with you. I need to get some fags," Alex said.
When they returned half an hour later, the world had turned upside down. The police were back in force, and their two fellow residents were on the doorstep with their luggage, their faces a study in disbelief. "Evening, Harry. Evening, Eddie," Ziggy said affably, peering over their shoulders into the hallway where Mondo was being sulky with a WPC. "Just as well I bought the two pints."
"What the hell is going on here?" Henry Cavendish demanded. "Don't tell me that cretin Mackie's been done for drugs."
"Nothing so prosaic," Ziggy said. "I don't suppose the murder made the Tatler or Horse and Hounds."
Cavendish groaned. "Oh for God's sake, don't be so pathetic. I thought you'd grown out of the working-class hero rubbish."
"Watch your mouth, we've got a Christian among us now."
"What are you talking about? Murder? Christians?" Edward Greenhalgh said.
"Weird's got God," Alex said succinctly. "Not your High Church Anglican sort, but the tambourines and praise the Lord sort. He'll be holding prayer meetings in the kitchen." Alex believed there was no greater sport than baiting those who believed in their privilege. And St. Andrews offered plenty of opportunity for that.
"What has that to do with the fact that the house is full of policemen?" Cavendish asked.
"I think you'll find the one in the hall is a woman," Ziggy said. "Unless of course Fife Police have started recruiting particularly attractive transvestites."
Cavendish ground his teeth. He hated the way the Laddies fi' Kirkcaldy persisted in treating him like a caricature. It was the main reason why he spent so little time in the house. "Why the police?" he said.
Ziggy smiled sweetly at Cavendish. "The police are here because we're murder suspects."
"What he means to say," Alex added hastily, "is that we're witnesses. One of the barmaids from the Lammas Bar was murdered just before Christmas. And we happened to find the body."
"That's appalling," Cavendish said. "I had no idea. Her poor family. Pretty grim for you too."
"It wasn't a lot of fun," Alex said.
Cavendish peered into the house again, looking discomfited. "Look, this is a bad time for you. It's probably easier all round if we find somewhere else to stay for now. Come on, Ed. We can crash with Tony and Simon tonight. We'll see if we can get transferred to another residence in the morning." He turned away, then looked back, frowning. "Where's my Land Rover?"
"Ah," Ziggy said. "It's a bit complicated. See, we borrowed it and?
"You borrowed it?" Cavendish sounded outraged.
"I'm sorry. But the weather was terrible. We didn't think you'd mind."
"So where is it now?"
Ziggy looked embarrassed. "You'll need to ask the police about that. The night we borrowed it, that was the night