“He can’t have left her that broke if she had a maid. Didn’t the maid tell the police she had gone to Britain?”
“The maid has about two words of English. Mrs. Addenfest’s over at the unit. I’ve come to fetch you.”
They walked out together. “Men are bastards,” said Robin, suddenly and viciously.
“You’re talking to one.”
She shrugged in reply.
Gloria Addenfest was seated before Jimmy in the unit. Her perfume hit them like a scented wall when they walked in.
Hamish felt a rush of gratitude for Jimmy. He was so used to Blair keeping him away from every interview.
“Now we’re all here,” said Jimmy, “you’d better explain why you lied to us about your arrival in this country.”
“I thought it looked bad,” said Gloria, crossing her long legs. “So I lied. No big deal. I didn’t murder him.”
“So when did you really arrive up here?”
“Right after the cops phoned me about him being murdered. I came straight up from London.”
“What were you doing in London?”
“Look, it’s like this, see.” Gloria lit a cigarette. “I’ll come clean. I really meant to come up here and confront the little rat. They had an audit at his company and found Hal had been embezzling. I remembered his high and mighty moral tone at the divorce proceedings, the way his lawyers made me look like a whore. I wanted to see his face when I told him his firms lawyers had been to the police and were trying to get an extradition order. I just wanted to see the look on his stupid face. But I stayed in London.”
“Why?”
“Do I have to tell you?”
Hamish regarded her with amusement. “You met someone on the plane over,” he said.
She flushed angrily. “Well, okay. He was in pharmaceuticals, and we hit it off. He said he’d show me a good time. We moved into the Ritz together and started to do the town.”
“Name?” asked Jimmy.
“Must I? He’s married.”
“Name!”
“James Roden. He’s still at the Ritz as far as I know.”
“We’ll check out your alibi. In the meantime, stay in Lochdubh and give us your passport. Now, how much had Mr. Addenfest embezzled?”
“Close to a million. He’d been siphoning it off over the years. Funny, though,” said Gloria. “He had one hell of a salary. But he was secretive and nasty. He probably enjoyed ripping them off.”
Jimmy got a statement typed up and told her to sign it, then got a police officer to escort her back to the hotel.
“There are too many women in this case, and all of them seem to be covering up for something,” said Jimmy. “The forensic lab promised us the DNA results fast. Meanwhile, keep asking around the village if anyone saw anything. I know you’ve done it over and over again, but folks are funny. Sometimes they come out with something amazing that they never even thought of telling us at the time.”
“Who first?” asked Robin outside.
“I’ve got a salmon in the freezer.”
“So what?”
“So we’ll go back and see Angus.”
♦
The seer invited Hamish in but grumbled that the salmon was frozen, saying he liked it fresh-caught.
“Have you thought of anything, Angus?” asked Hamish.
The seer leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Women everywhere,” he said. “Manipulating women.” He opened his eyes and looked at Robin. “You were out to ruin a marriage. Just thank the stars you didnae succeed.”
“Forget about Detective Mackenzie,” said Hamish impatiently. “I know all about that.”
Robin’s face flamed.
Angus settled back in his chair again and closed his eyes. If the old sod goes to sleep this time, I’ll strike him, thought Hamish. I want one salmon’s worth.
“Strong sexual urges and bad, bad jealousy,” crooned Angus. “You’re looking for a woman.”
“Which woman?”
Angus opened his eyes. “The spirits have left me.”
“I expected more for a whole fish,” exclaimed Hamish.
♦
“So who have we got?” asked Hamish as he and Robin walked down to the police Land Rover. “We’ve got Caro Garrard, Gloria Addenfest, Dora Fleming, and Betty Barnard.”
“My moneys on Dora,” said Robin.
“I thought you suspected Betty.”
“I think it’s Dora now. She’s had a rough, coarse life. I bet she was in a lot of fights when she was on the streets.”
“But what would Dora have to do with the murder of Effie?”
“Maybe Effie’s death was suicide.”
“Hal phoned his wife to say he was getting married,” said Hamish. “One of the women must have been seen with him. We’d better go up to the hotel and start again.”
“All that stuff about me trying to break up someone’s marriage was rubbish,” said Robin. “You said you knew.”
“I don’t think you planned to break up a marriage, more to sleep your way to the top.”
Hamish’s phone rang before Robin had time to reply. “Get back here immediately,” Jimmy ordered. “They’ve phoned over the DNA results.”
♦
“Whose is it?” demanded Hamish as soon as he and Robin walked into the police unit.
“Jock Fleming. They’ve gone to fetch him,” said Jimmy.
“Where’s Mrs. Fleming?”
“We had to let her go for the moment. That night, she says, she wanted to go down to the garden at the back for a bit of fresh air. She said if she’d gone out the front, the sound of all the locks being unlocked would have woken Mrs. Dunne. Mind you, I’ve sent some men to go through that room of hers again, looking for the least little thing. That sounds like Jock arriving now.”
The artist was brought in. He looked at them wearily. “What now?”
“Sit down,” barked Jimmy.
Jock slumped down in the chair in front of him.
“A used condom was found in the back garden at Sea View. We found your DNA on it. Now your ex-wife says that on the night Addenfest was murdered, she went out through the fire door and down into the back garden for a bit of air.”
“It’s all very simple,” said Jock. “She wanted to talk about more money. One thing led to another. We had a quickie up against the garden wall.”
A policeman who had just walked in interrupted them. “Sir,” he said to Jimmy, “sorry to interrupt, but this was found stitched into the hem of the curtains.” He held out a glassine envelope full of white powder. “I tested a bit. It’s cocaine.”
“Get Dora Fleming along here.”
Jimmy glared at Jock. “Do you know what I think? I think you wanted that notebook of Addenfest’s because you were frightened that there was something in there that would incriminate you. I think you miserable pair – you and your ex-wife – got high. I think one of you lured him to the beach, and you both killed him to cover up the murder of Effie Garrard.”
“This is rubbish,” blustered Jock.
“And why should you want sex with a wife you divorced?”
“She’s got certain interesting tricks.”
I am slipping, thought Hamish ruefully. I had thought he was such a nice ordinary man.
Dora was brought in. Jimmy waved the envelope of cocaine in front of her. “This was found sewn into the curtains of your room.”
“That’s naethin tae dae wi’ me!” she shrieked. “You lot must ha’ planted it there.”
“Enough of this,” said Jimmy. He turned to his waiting police officers. “Take them over to police headquarters. I’ll interview them separately.”
As they were led out, volubly protesting, Hamish said, “That’s odd.”
“I’m off,” said Jimmy. “What’s odd?”
“Dora Fleming shows no sign of being a drug user. Someone could have planted those drugs.”
“Why?”
“To muddy the waters.”