Priscilla nodded and moved off. What a terrible job she has, thought Jenny. Imagine having to endure being spoken to like that.
Priscilla found Mr Johnson. “King George the Second is complaining about no light on the tower stair. I’ll go and fix it by taking one of the bulbs out of the bedrooms.”
“George the Second?”
“Deborah Freemantle.”
“Aye, she’s got a look o’ the House of Hanover. But don’t take one out of the bedrooms; I’ll give you one from the stock in the office.”
“Why?”
“Saving money. A 40-watt’s good enough for the stairs and passages; 60-watt for the bedrooms.”
“But that means – ” Priscilla wrestled with her thoughts – “that we’ve been looking for a 60-watt bulb, not a 40-watt.”
“So what? They didn’t find anything.”
“Wait a minute. All someone had to do was to take the 40-watt bulb out of the tower stair,” said Priscilla, “and then take it to their room, unplug one of the 60-watt and leave it lying harmlessly on the bedside table and put a 40-watt, put the lampshade over it, and there you are!”
“And here’s the police,” said Mr Johnson.
Hamish was coming into the entrance hall with the detectives from Strathbane. Priscilla rushed to him and explained about the light bulbs.
The superintendent was listening as well. He ordered a policeman to inform the guests that they were not to go up to their rooms until they were told they could do so.
“I think I know whose bedroom to go to first,” said Hamish. Right up until Priscilla had told him about the light bulb, he had been planning to send Paul and Luke, who would arrive in a few moments, home. If he was wrong, then Paul and Luke would be in bad trouble and he would need to get them out of it by telling Daviot he had bribed them to lie. “I’m pretty sure who the murderer is.”
“Tell us,” sneered Blair.
“That bedroom first,” said Hamish.
“I’ll go up with Hamish,” said Mr Daviot. “You stay down here, Blair, and make sure none of them escapes.”
Blair cast a look of loathing at Hamish.
Hamish led the way into one of the Checkmate party’s bedrooms and looked around. There was one overhead light with a 60-watt bulb in it. But there were two lamps, one on either side of the bed. He lifted the shade of the first and felt a sour taste of failure in his mouth. 60-watt. He went slowly to the other while Mr Daviot watched him impatiently. Hamish felt like a man with one last chance at the Sixty-Four Thousand Dollar Question. He raised the lampshade and drew a long breath. “It’s a 40-watt bulb,” he said.
“We can’t arrest someone on such flimsy evidence,” protested the superintendent. “We need more proof.”
“I hae the proof,” said Hamish. “Two witnesses.”
“Two witnesses! Why didn’t they come forward before?”
“They’re fishermen. They say they haven’t been reading the newspapers and don’t have a television set, but it’s my belief they were poaching. If you want your murderer, you’ll have to turn a blind eye to that.”
“But fishermen go out at night!”
“Well, they werenae out fishing that night,” said Hamish crossly. “Don’t you want the murderer? Look, let me confront this person. If I’m wrong, I’ll take the rap.”
“Oh, very well, Macbeth.” No Hamish now. “And do remember to address me as ‘sir’ in future.”
Blair, Anderson, MacNab and two police officers were ushered into the library. “Who is it?” Blair kept demanding crossly.
Mr Daviot took his place behind the desk and said, “Send in Mr John Taylor.”
“Whit?” roared Blair. “A Queen’s Counsel commit a murder? Yer away wi’ the fairies this time, Macbeth. I hivnae heard sich a – ”
“If you don’t mind,” said the superintendent icily.
John Taylor came in and sat down without fuss. He looked totally composed. He was dressed in a pinstriped suit and impeccable shirt and silk tie, just as if he were ready to go to the Old Bailey.
“I will let you begin the questioning, Macbeth,” said Mr Daviot heavily and Blair grinned. Daviot obviously knew Hamish was making a fool of himself.
“Mr Taylor,” said Hamish, the sibilancy of his accent strongly marked as it always was when he was nervous or excited, “I haff the good reason to believe that you murdered Mrs Peta Gore by stuffing an apple in her mouth and pinching her nostrils so that she died of suffocation. I also believe that you tried to murder Deborah Freemantle. In the latter case, you removed the bulb from the tower stair and put it in one of the lamps in your room, substituting it for the 60-watt bulb that was already there.”
“I did no such thing,” said the lawyer calmly.
“Furthermore,” Hamish went on, “I haff the two witnesses, Paul and Luke Nairn, who saw you up at the quarry with Peta Gore on the night of her death, having a moonlight picnic.”
The only sign of emotion about John Taylor was his long thin hands, which he clasped around one pointed knee. “Witnesses?” he said cynically. “They took a long time to come forward.”
“I’ll bring them in.” Hamish nodded to the policeman on guard at the door, who opened it and shouted. “Paul and Luke Nairn.”
Just like a courtroom, thought John.
The large brothers shuffled in and stood sheepishly in the middle of the room, still in their oilskins and smelling strongly of fish.
“We’ll start with you, Luke,” said Hamish. “Chust tell us in your own words what you saw.” Meaning I hope you remember my words, thought Hamish desperately.
“We wass up by the quarry when we heard talking,” said Luke. “It wass the bright moonlit night. We saw this man here as clear as day. He was pouring wine. He wass sitting on the ground. Beside him wass a great fat wumman and she was shoving a meat-pie in her mouth. I haff never seen the like. I haff never seen anyone eat a meat-pie like that, not even Geordie over at Crask. We didhae stop, Paul and me, we walked on a bittie, and we wass admiring the view when behind us, from the direction o’ the quarry, we heard a scrabbling, choking sort o’ sound and Paul here, he says, Nae wunner she’s choking, the way she eats.”
He fell silent. A clock ticked in the corner of the room. John Taylor sat very still. Witnesses? thought Blair, privately delighted; A couple of liars. Admire the view! Havers.
And then John opened his mouth and spoke. “I did it, yes,” he said.
Hamish charged him while the superintendent leaned back in his chair, limp with relief.
Hamish dismissed Paul and Luke. Then he asked John, “What happened? Take it slowly. No one heard a car driving off that night. Why?”
“Chance,” said John wearily. “I thought afterwards I was a master criminal, but I simply got away with things by being a complete amateur. I wanted to get even with my son and daughter for having been cruel to me. They were expecting to inherit my money. It was not enough revenge to simply leave it to some charity. I wanted them to suffer. I planned to marry and have children, but when I got here, I realized the folly of it all. Who was going to look at an old-man like me?”
“Then came Peta’s news of her millions. That one would have been happy to marry anyone to spite Maria. I thought, I’ll marry her and then I’ll be fabulously rich and then I shall tell my ungrateful son and daughter that they aren’t getting anything. I went to her room and suggested we slip off for a romantic picnic at midnight. The awful creature was thrilled at the idea. I went down to the kitchen and packed up one of those picnic hampers with what I could find. I knew the hotel cars often had the keys left in them. I took the Volvo. Peta came out.”
“The car would not start. And would you believe it, the very sight of her gross figure in the moonlight had made me change my mind. I said, “Let’s leave it.” No, she had to try one of the other cars but the keys were missing from those. I suppose they take them in for the night but because Jenny had used the Volvo, the keys had been left in it.”