“But you must have known we would check!”
“I didn’t think the police records at a wee place like Dingwall would go back that far.”
“The police in Dingwall cover quite a large area. They’re sharp and efficient and, yes, they keep files. How could you have been so stupid? All you’ve done is force me to tell the police about Mrs. McClellan. And how am I going to get you out of being charged with wasting police time?”
Tears welled up in Moira’s eyes. “I was only trying to help.”
“I can tell you this, if I don’t get a break today, tomorrow is the longest I can hold this report. Now, that criminal husband of yours. Was that a lie as well?”
“No, I use my maiden name. His name was John Sampson.”
“I’ll forget about him for the moment and see what I can do during the rest of the day. You’ll just need to hope I find someone.”
“Maybe I can help.”
“No,” said Hamish sharply. “You’ve done enough damage.”
“What’ll I tell Fiona?”
“Nothing at the moment. Pray.”
♦
Hamish went back to the police station, went through to the office, sat down at his desk and buried his head in his hands. He needed to think things through. Angus was dead. Had Fergus confided in Angus? Had Angus, desperate to keep the croft, decided to go on where Fergus had left off? By tomorrow, he would really need to put in a full report to Strathbane, turn over the letters and put in a report about the colonel as well. They would want to see Sean, to interrogate him as well, and would wonder why Hamish had just let him go on his way. He stood up. He would need to find Sean and tell him to report to the police station in the morning. He could only hope the tramp had decided not to leave the area.
He went out and got in the police Land Rover and drove off. He went back to the place where he had found Sean the day before and then started to slowly cruise along, looking to right and left. Then he remembered that the village of Drim was one of Sean’s favourite places, and he turned the vehicle and headed towards the Drim road.
Once in Drim, he parked outside the general store. Ailsa Kennedy was behind the counter. Hamish waited until she had served a customer and then asked, “Have you seen the tramp, Sean Fitz?”
“What’s he done?” asked Ailsa.
“Nothing. I just want a wee word with him.”
“I saw him a while ago. He’s probably at one of the houses.”
Hamish patiently set off, calling at cottage after cottage, until he found the tramp sitting outside a house, a mug of tea in one hand and a large sandwich in the other. “Oh, it’s yourself, Hamish,” he said.
“Look, Sean, you’ll need to promise me you’ll come to the police station tomorrow morning. I’m going to have to put in a report about the colonel, whether he likes it or not.”
“Och, Hamish, that bugger Blair’ll have me locked up in Strathbane for questioning. He’ll hae me for being on the colonel’s river.”
“He can’t. Just say you were wandering around. I need you, Sean.”
“I tell you something, I’d like a soft bed for the night.”
“All right. You know where the cell is. Come and stay the night, and we’ll deal with it in the morning.” Hamish sat down beside Sean and heaved a sigh. “I tell you, Sean, it’s not just the colonel I’ve been covering up for, it’s other people as well, and now I feel bad about it.”
Sean drank his tea and munched his sandwich. Then he said, “Has it no’ dawned on you, Hamish, that you won’t maybe be the only one keeping quiet to protect people? Say someone in Lochdubh actually saw Fergus talking to someone, a friend of theirs. They wouldnae be giving you the name.”
Hamish thought about that. The villagers would certainly close ranks to protect someone they knew and liked. But he had questioned and questioned.
“I’ve asked and asked, Sean. Why should anyone tell me now?”
“You could trick them. Let them think you know.”
“But who?”
“Well, laddie, if anyone in Lochdubh’s going to notice, it’s them Currie sisters.”
“Come on, Sean. They report everything.”
“Maybe not.”
Hamish looked at him sharply. “If you know something, Sean, you’d better tell me. I’m getting desperate.”
“Chust an educated guess.”
Hamish rose to his feet. “I’ll see you this evening, Sean.”
“Aye, grand.”
As Hamish walked down to the waterfront and got in the Land Rover, he turned what Sean had said over in his mind. Then he phoned the station to see if there had been any messages. Clarry answered the phone. He sounded excited. “That friend o’ yours, Priscilla, was here. Her chef has just walked out, and she asked me if I could help out at the hotel with the dinners.”
“Clarry, we’re in the middle of two murder investigations.”
“I could do it. I know I could.”
“I’ll call at the castle and then I’ll let you know.”
Hamish set off and drove to the Tommel Castle Hotel. As he parked, he could see Priscilla’s blonde head in the guest shop. The car park was full of cars. Business must have picked up.
“Did Clarry tell you…?” began Priscilla when Hamish walked in.
“Aye. I’ll do a deal with you, Priscilla. You find that father of yours and get him to tell me the truth about why he was rowing with Fergus, and I’ll send Clarry up.” He studied her carefully blank face and exclaimed, “You know where he is!”
Priscilla looked down and fiddled with some Scottish silver jewellery she had been unpacking.
He eyed her for a moment. “I want you to get your father for me, Priscilla. I’ll have to put in a report about him, so either he deals with me or he deals with Blair.”
He left the shop and crossed the car park, went into the hotel and walked into the office. “What brings you?” asked Mr. Johnston.
“Do you know where the colonel is?”
He shook his head. “We’re in too much of a mess at the moment. We need a chef for this evening. Did Priscilla tell you to ask that man of yours?”
“Yes, and I told her, no colonel, no Clarry.”
“What’s he done?”
“Probably nothing. But he was seen having a row with Fergus, down by the river. Any idea what it would be about?”
“No. I’m too worried about the chef to think about anything else.”
“I might have another word with Heather Darling. Is she on duty?”
“She’s left.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t say.”
“I’d better go and see her.”
When Hamish drove off, he could see Priscilla working in the shop. What had happened to the days when they used to discuss his cases? Somewhere inside her, she had retreated even further from him.
He was driving slowly along the waterfront when he saw Nessie Currie working in her garden. He stopped and climbed down.
“Lazing about as usual?” asked Nessie, stooping to pull out a weed.
That remark irritated Hamish enough for him to say angrily, “I believe you’re hiding something from me.”
“And what makes you think that?” she demanded tartly.
But there was a certain shiftiness about her that made Hamish decide to use Blair’s tactics. “If you’ll chust step along to the station with me,” he said.
“Why? Why should I?”
“I want to take down a statement from you that you never saw Fergus Macleod on the night he was killed, and I want you to swear on the Bible that you are telling the truth!”