‘I’ve spent quite a long time this morning wondering whether I have seen so much of the vanity in criminals that I have begun to have a “thing” about it; to distrust it unduly. On the face of it Heron Lloyd is irreproachable. He is more: he is admirable. He has a fine record behind him; he lives simply; he has excellent taste, which means a natural sense of proportion; and he has achieved enough surely to satisfy the most egotistical soul.’
‘But you think—there’s something wrong somewhere.’
‘Do you remember a little man in the hotel at Moymore who did missionary work on you?’
‘Persecuted Scotland! The little man in kilts.’
‘A kilt,’ said Grant automatically. ‘Well, for some reason Lloyd gives me the same feeling as Archie Brown. It’s absurd, but it is very strong. They have the same—’ He looked for a word.
‘Smell,’ said Tad.
‘Yes. That’s about it. They have the same smell.’
After a long silence Tad said: ‘Mr Grant, are you still of the opinion that what happened to Bill was an accident?’
‘Yes, because there is no evidence to the contrary. But I’m quite prepared to believe that it wasn’t, if I can see any reason for it. Can you clean windows?’
‘Can I what?’