Her eyes took on a hard, suspicious look. “You’re Hamish Macbeth,” she said.
“Aye, that iss right. Suspect number one.”
Her face relaxed a bit. Hamish looked so inoffensive. “Did you do it?”
“Murder Harris to enliven the boredom of my holiday? No.”
“You just stick to seducing the ladies.”
He silently cursed Miss Gunnery. “As to that,” he said, “I might tell you something about the case if you’re interested.”
“I am interested. I would like to have more to do with it. I’m from Dungarton and my job is to do all the dogsbody work. That Deacon even asked me to make the tea.”
“Neffer!”
“Aye. Treats me like a secretary.”
“What’s your name?”
“Maggie Donald.”
“You’re not from these parts?”
“No, Fife. I came up here to live with my auntie when my parents died.”
“Let me get you another drink,” said Hamish, “and we’ll sit over there and have a wee chat.”
“As long as you’re going to talk about the case and not chat me up.”
Hamish looked at her severely. “Well,” she said defensively, “you have earned yourself a bit of a reputation.”
He bought them a drink each and carried them over to a table in the corner. The pub was quiet. Apart from them, there were only two seedy-looking youths over at the fruit machine.
“So,” said Maggie, “who do you think did it?”
“I would have thought the wife was the obvious choice,” said Hamish. “The man was a nag. He made her life a misery. Then along comes this Andrew Biggar and I think that pair are falling in love. But Andrew seems a decent fellow, and Doris is so meek and mild, and she was terrified of her husband. I can’t see her biffing him on the head.”
“What about the fascinating Miss Gunnery? Did she know Hamish before?”
He shook his head. “Look, I’ll tell you something about me and Miss Gunnery if you promise not to repeat it.”
“I can’t promise that in case it turns out to have any bearing on the case.”
“No, it hasn’t. Can you see me coming all the way from Lochdubh to murder a man I don’t know? Miss Gunnery, in a mistaken attempt to save me from being charged with murder, or that was the way she saw it, got herself up like a tart and told those gullible detectives that I had spent the afternoon in bed wi’ her.”
“And had you?”
“No.”
“But you should have told Deacon! That’s obstructing the police in – ”
“I know all that,” he interrupted impatiently. “I wass fed up wi’ the row I had that morning, what with Harris calling the police and accusing me of assaulting him. I went off and bought a couple of paperbacks in the village and went out to that bend of the river on the Dungarton side of the village and read all day. Then I bought a fish supper and took it to the harbour to eat it. That’s when I found Harris.”
“And you expect me to keep quiet about Miss Gunnery’s lie?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you want to get in on this case. Because I am living at the boarding-house. Because I know the people concerned.”
“I can’t promise. But I would like to know a bit more about them. Deacon has pulled in those two young girls.”
“Why did he do that?” asked Hamish. “I mean, they were evidently shooting their mouths off at the dance about how they would like to murder someone for kicks, but surely that isn’t enough to make them suspects.”
“Cheryl has form.”
“What kind of form?”
“GBH.”
“Grievous bodily harm! And her so young. She must be about nineteen at the oldest.”
“She’s twenty. She cut someone’s face with a bottle two years ago at a Glasgow dance hall. A drunken row. Cheryl thought the other girl was stealing her boyfriend. She met Tracey in prison.”
“And what was Tracey in for?”
“She did a short sentence for shoplifting. She was sent to prison because it was her fifth offence.”
“I’m slipping,” said Hamish, shaking his head ruefully. “I would haff said they were chust a pair of regular young girls who wore silly clothes and too much make-up.”
“So what do you know?” asked Maggie.
Hamish settled down and told her the alibis of the residents, some of which she had already heard from her colleagues. It was when he got to Doris’s alibi that he suddenly stiffened. “Wait a bit,” he said. “Doris told me and the others that she had walked away from the village along the beach the day of the murder. But I saw her myself walking towards the village. Why did she lie?”
“Perhaps she and this Andrew planned the murder together,” said Maggie. “It keeps coming back to her somehow.”
“I certainly don’t want to believe it, because they are nice people.” Hamish tilted his whisky this way and that in his glass. “I can’t imagine either of them murdering anyone.”
“It happens,” said Maggie. “Think of it – years of bullying building up resentment after resentment in Doris’s mind, and then she falls for this Andrew. Light the blue paper and retire. She might have gone up like a rocket, seen him standing right at the edge of the jetty and bam! into the water goes one very dead husband. And why did Doris lie to you about which way she went when she left the hotel?”
“I’ll find out. What did she tell the police?”
“I’ll need to look at the statements. I tell you what, I’m working until seven this evening. I’d better not be seen with you. If you start walking from the boarding-house just before seven, on the road, not the beach, I’ll pick you up and we’ll go somewhere and talk and share notes.”
“Right, Maggie. Can I get you another drink?”
She shook her head. “I’ve had my limit. It’s a good thing I’m slimming. I haven’t had anything to eat. Off with you before any of the coppers come in and find me talking to you.”
Hamish left feeling pleased with his morning’s work. He realized he was hungry and should have eaten something in the pub. He waited until Maggie left and then went back in and ordered some tired-looking sandwiches and a glass of ginger beer. He returned to the boarding-house by way of the beach and met Miss Gunnery walking Towser.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“You’re to report to the police station, Hamish,” she said wearily. Her hair was once more scraped back and the pale light from the grey sea and milky sky reflected on her gold-rimmed glasses and gave her a blind look. “They’ve been questioning and questioning. Me and the Bretts, Andrew and Doris, and the Rogerses. They even had a word with the children, especially Heather. That boatman is a menace. He told them all about Heather discussing ways to make murder look like an accident.”
“I’d best be off then.” Hamish stooped and patted Towser. “You’d best go home with Miss Gunnery like a good boy. I’ll get you some ham.” He waved to Miss Gunnery and set off back to Skag.
At the police station, he caught a glimpse of Maggie. She was carrying a tray of dirty teacups. He was ushered into the interview room again to face Deacon and Clay.
“So you and that Miss Gunnery were lying,” began Deacon.
With all his heart, Hamish cursed the fickle Maggie.
But he folded his arms and faced them in silence. “You should be mair careful who you tell secrets to,” jeered Clay.
“So why am I here alone?” demanded Hamish suddenly. “Surely you should haff pulled Miss Gunnery in as well.”
“Give us time,” said Deacon sourly. “So where were you, laddie?”
Hamish told them slowly and carefully how he had spent his day, ending up with an exasperated cry of “If I had murdered the man, I would haff left the body where it wass for somebody else to find.”