“But other fishermen will try the same trick.”
“It won’t be newsworthy if they do. Copycat stories never are. Get on with it.”
“Perhaps I should fly up there myself. I can see myself standing on the habour…”
“And getting stoned by the locals. I’ll handle it. You’re due at the House.”
♦
Superintendent Daviot gave orders for police to be fitted out in riot gear and armed with stun guns and tear gas.
They arrived in force at the barricade on the Strathbane road.
The villagers on guard raised their guns, their faces grim.
Daviot opened his mouth to give the order to charge when his phone rang. It was his secretary, Helen. “The prime minister’s office phoned. You’re to stand down. The papers sent to Archie Maclean were a mistake. No one is to be charged with anything. It’s to be calmed down and out of the newspapers as quickly as possible.”
The villagers manning the barricade watched uneasily. Then Daviot approached the barrier.
“The decommissioning papers were sent to Mr. Maclean by mistake. So take down this ridiculous roadblock. I would arrest the lot of you, but I have orders from Number 10 that there are to be no prosecutions.”
Hamish, in his cell, heard the cheering. He unlocked his cell and walked outside the police station.
Villagers were surging along to meet the cheering men returning from the roadblock.
Archie Maclean saw Hamish and cried, “There he is! There’s my hero!”
The crowd gathered around Hamish and lifted him up and carried him in triumphal procession from one end of the waterfront to the other.
Up on the Strathbane road on a crest of the hill looking down on the village stood Inspector Mary Cannon.
“Give me a pair of binoculars, someone,” she shouted.
A policeman handed her a pair. She lifted them to her eyes, focussed them, and glared down at the magnified sight of Hamish Macbeth being carried round the village.
“So that rogue policeman is responsible for this fiasco,” she muttered. “What a waste of police time. I’ll have that man.”
She turned to the woman police sergeant beside her. “Keep your handcuffs ready,” she said, “and follow me.”
The triumphal procession carrying Hamish was heading for the pub when they found themselves confronted by one very angry police inspector.
“Put him down!” shouted Mary. “Hamish Macbeth, I am arresting you for inciting riot. Anything you – ”
“No, no,” said Archie, glaring up at her. “This is by way of an apology. We locked the poor man up in his cell. He had nothing to do with it at all.”
Mary faced the crowd. “Is this the truth?”
There came a chorus of agreement.
Mary suddenly knew she had made a terrible mistake. She saw she was being filmed and recorded for television. She knew Number 10 wanted the story killed. She did not believe for a moment that Archie had been sent the wrong papers. She would be blamed for keeping the story running.
Mary turned on her heel and marched away.
Hamish fled to his police station and locked himself in to keep away from the press.
Then a note was shoved through the letter box. It read, “Let me in. Elspeth.”
∨ Death of a Maid ∧
9
My barmie noddle’s working prime.
—Robert Burns
Hamish opened the door. “Come in, quick,” he said.
Elspeth slid in. She looked tired. “Great story, Hamish. I’ve been filing stories since I got back from Glasgow, and I haven’t had any sleep.”
“I think I’ll have a whisky,” said Hamish. “Feel like joining me? I felt at one moment I’d made an awful mistake. I could see the poor Currie sisters with their eyes streaming with tear gas and some of the locals being shot with stun guns.”
“I’m surprised our divine leader didn’t fly up. He and his wife breathe photo opportunities.”
“Maybe he was frightened he’d be massacred. Whisky?”
“Yes, I’ll join you, and then I’m going to bed.”
“Alone?”
“What sort of question is that?” demanded Elspeth angrily. “And what right have you to ask it?”
“I’m sorry,” said Hamish. “I don’t know why I asked that. Stop bristling at me and sit down. You look like Sonsie when the cat’s fur is up.”
“Where are the beasts?”
“Out for a walk. I lifted them out through the kitchen window.”
“How will you know when they want back in?”
“Sonsie leaps up and raps on the glass.”
“What came over that police inspector? Daviot said there were to be no arrests. Made a good story, though.”
“You didn’t, did you?”
“We all did. Why did she do it? She struck me as a career police officer.”
“I think she likes the authority her position gives her. I think someone like me really annoys her. Where’s Luke?”
“Up at the hotel with the other press. Mr. Johnson will be glad when the story dies down because he can’t give any tourists a booking. The press have taken up most of the rooms.”
“Isn’t that good for business?”
“Not really. The hotel relies on regulars to come back year after year. Most of the press will be gone by tomorrow.”
Hamish poured two shots of whisky and put a jug of water on the table.
“Aren’t you going to open your mail?” asked Elspeth, looking at a few unopened letters on the kitchen table.
“Probably bills. I’ll look at them tomorrow.”
Elspeth flipped through them. “Here’s one that looks personal, and the postmark’s Inverness.”
“Let me see.” Hamish opened the envelope and scanned the letter inside.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said.
“Probably,” said Elspeth. “What is it?”
“It’s from Mr. Abercrombie, that student’s father, you know the one who claimed that Sander had stolen his book. He says a woman came to visit him the other day and said she was a friend of his son’s and that they’d been at university at the same time. She was shocked to learn Sean was dead. She said she remembered Professor Sander had given him a job typing out his manuscript, a book on Byron. She said Sean went a bit mad after that and started claiming the book was his own. He kept swearing to come off the drugs.”
“So that’s one blackmailing theory out the window,” said Elspeth.
“No, on the contrary. There must be something else. Someone as pompous as the professor wouldn’t put up with a bossy charwoman unless she had something on him. Inspector Cannon wanted me to follow him. Maybe she was on to something. I think I’ll get back on it tomorrow. I’ll have a talk to the stepdaughter first. She may have remembered something.”
“I’ll come with you,” volunteered Elspeth.
“You’ll get me in trouble. I’m not supposed to have civilians in a police vehicle unless I’m arresting them.”
“But, idiot, we’ll take my car. You don’t want to be seen tailing him in a cop car.”
“Forgot that. I took Angela’s car the last time. But the neighbours saw me parked out all day and called the police.”
“A couple is better camouflage. Let’s guess it’s something to do with where he goes outside Braikie. In order to go to Strathbane or Inverness, he’d need to go along the main street. So we wait there.”
Hamish still hesitated. Elspeth surveyed him with amusement. “Yes, Hamish, we will take your odd animals so you don’t need to sit there working up courage to ask Angela to look after them for you.”
“Thanks. Angela was getting fed up with me. I’ll meet you here about noon. That’ll give me time to go and see the stepdaughter.”