Trouble is afoot in the remote Scottish fishing village of Stoyre, where the inhabitants are acting kind of... fishy.
On a routine visit, Hamish Macbeth finds the pub empty, the church unexpectedly full, and the very air permeated with fear. Then an explosion levels a holiday cottage which the locals call 'an act of God'.
Hamish has another theory, one that will make the national news. With the help of sharp-eyed journalist Elspeth Grant and Lugs (his dog) he begins to winkle out the truth.
But Hamish's best laid plans soon go awry when an old friend dies, a scandalous rumour erupts, and someone close to his heart may be lost forever...
I do feel such pity for the writer who is really enormously ancient and has such contempt for Scotland. She's a Thatcherite, anti-European, right-winger, and obviously completely gone native with Tory, rich, English culture; grand, just don't laugh at us from your thatched cottage in some twee Southern village...:like Christie and Sayers, it's snobbery with violence, except here there's "racism" with violence.
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