CHAPTER 5
THESTRAW MAN

Scotland decided to show off the next day. It was the kind of weather that makes you understand why they put these scenes on shortbread tins – impossibly blue sky stretching over a sea that glittered like something from the Mediterranean. Though I still needed my jacket zipped to the chin.

We'd arranged to meet at a beautiful garden, where ivy climbed ancient stone walls, and wildflowers spilt across borders, refusing to be contained. Every wooden bench looked like it had witnessed at least a dozen marriage proposals.

Brian fumbled with the light reflector, nearly dropping it twice."This is madness," he whispered."We're deceiving a police detective. An actual officer of the law. With his sincere face and everything."

"We're photographers taking photographs. Plus, we ask some questions. That's hardly deception."

"It's fraud. Or espionage. Or whatever crime they'll charge us with when we're arrested."

Before I could answer, a cheerful voice called out from the garden entrance."Hello! Are you the photographer? I'm not late, am I? I'm always late. It's my cross to bear." DC Murray walked towards us, hand in hand with a small woman with warm brown eyes and a practical bob haircut. He wore a kilt of deep green tartan with thin gold threads woven through it, the kind that spends most of its life carefully folded away, waiting for weddings and funerals. His white button-up shirt hadn't survived the rush – one collar point up, the other down.

"You're right on time," I assured him, stepping forward with a smile."I'm Joana, and this is my assistant, Brian."

Brian made a strangled noise that I hoped Murray would interpret as a greeting.

"Wonderful to meet you in the flesh!" Murray shook my hand with enthusiasm."This is my Iona. The light of my life and the fire of my loins."

Iona closed her eyes briefly."It's 'fire of my heart,' Hamish. The other one is from a book you definitely haven't read."

"Oh," Murray's ears turned bright red."Well, anyway, she's brilliant. Teaches Primary Two at the local school. The wee ones adore her."

Iona gave us a warm smile, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she saw right through our story and knew we were there for more than just taking photos."Thank you for coming on such short notice. To be frank, we're desperate."

"Happy to help." I lifted my camera."Shall we start with some casual shots by that rose arch? The light is perfect right now."

We headed for the arch, Iona fussing with Murray's collar until it finally sat straight. And when we were just about to take the first photos, Murray suddenly went rigid, every movement becoming stiff and jerky.

"Just relax," I encouraged, taking a few test shots."Pretend I'm not here."

"That's the problem with photos," Murray's smile froze in a grimace."I become intensely aware of my face. Do I always have this many teeth? Where am I supposed to put my hands? I have hands, right? Oh God, now I'm overthinking breathing."

Iona laughed and squeezed his arm."You're doing that thing again, love."

"What thing?"

"The thing where you turn into a straw man whenever a camera appears."

I took a few photos while they were talking and caught the real affection between them once Murray stopped paying attention to the camera."Those are lovely." I showed them the screen."See? You look great in photos when you're not thinking about it."

Murray peered at the screen in disbelief."I look... normal! Both eyes open! Mouth not doing that weird thing!"

"It's a miracle," Iona said dryly, winking at me.

We carried on with the shoot, Brian reluctantly holding the reflector. Murray, meanwhile, began to loosen up. I waited for the right moment, then nudged the conversation in the direction I actually cared about.

"I have to say," I began, adjusting my lens,"I felt a bit nervous being out here with all my camera gear after hearing about those drone photographer murders."

Brian coughed loudly behind the reflector.

"Oh, no need to worry now," Murray said cheerfully."We've caught the perpetual – er, perpetrator."

"Yes, I read about that. The farmer?" I positioned them on a stone bench."Tilt your heads towards each other a bit."

"That's right. Nasty business, but we're out of the hoods now."

"I think you mean 'out of the woods,' darling," Iona corrected gently.

"That's what I said," Murray insisted.

I snapped a few more photos."It must have been difficult to track him down. You and your team did brilliant work."

Murray's posture relaxed further, clearly pleased by the compliment."Well, it wasn't easy. These cases never are. But the evidence spoke for itself in the end."

"So all the murders happened at popular spots for photographers?" I asked while helping Iona adjust her hair for the next shot.

"That's rig