“We doted on Penny as she grew up. Have you seen her? Have you ever seen anything more beautiful? Amy seemed to have started a new life for herself. We’d given her a large sum of money and she bought the post office. We’d inherited a lot of money after Mary pushed her own mother down the stairs.”
“I remember,” said Hamish, “that Mary said her mother had Alzheimer’s and died a week before she married Cyril.” He went back to reading.
“And then one day Amy Beattie turned up. She said she wanted Penny to know the identity of her real mother. We couldn’t be having that. We threatened her and we thought that would keep her quiet. But she went to Miss McAndrew. Miss McAndrew was hot for Penny to go to university and Penny wanted a career in television. Miss McAndrew told us that if we did not make sure Penny went to the university, then she would tell everyone in Braikie that Penny was not our child. Then the anonymous letter arrived, addressed to Penny. The post was late that morning and it arrived after Penny had left for school. We opened and read it and we were pretty sure it was from Miss McAndrew.
“Mary said no one was going to take our precious child away. We told Amy that we had decided to let her tell Penny but we would like to discuss it with her first. We went round to her flat. Mary put a strong sleeping draught in her tea and when she was unconscious, we hanged her and left that anonymous letter, knowing that Miss McAndrew would read about it in the papers and take it as a warning. Just to be sure, we took a bit of video film and sent it to her as a further warning. No, I don’t know who sent it to the community centre. We thought that was an end to it. Then Miss McAndrew phoned up soon afterwards and said she had been wrestling with her conscience. She said she would have to go to the police and tell them everything. It was late at night and Mary said she wouldn’t go to the police that night and had to be silenced. I said that one killing was enough and Mary said she would kill me if I didn’t help her. She said she would do it. Now, Penny had keys to Miss McAndrew’s house. I begged Mary not to do it, just to frighten Miss McAndrew, and Mary said all right. We let ourselves in and crept up to the bedroom and then Mary produced this knife and began to stab and stab and stab.
“And we thought for a while we’d got clean away with both murders. We were even able to go on as normal. We adore Penny. And then that girl Jenny called. Mary hit her on the head. I wish we had just bluffed our way out of it because she didn’t really know anything. But once it was done, we shut her up in a cupboard bound and gagged. I got rid of the car. If only I had put Jenny in it. That was a big mistake. So it had to be the quarry.”
Hamish looked up from his reading. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense?” asked Jimmy.
“That a perfectly respectable Highland couple should resort to such mad violence.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Jimmy. “You don’t know everything, Sherlock.”
“What?”
“Mary Roberts was at one time in her early life sectioned for psychopathy. Cyril Roberts used to be in the Royal Marines and spent a long time in the glasshouse and then got a dishonourable discharge for nearly beating an officer to death.”
“We never thought to dig up their backgrounds,” mourned Hamish. “What about Penny? How’s she taking it?”
“Last heard, she’s selling her story to the Sun. She may end up on television after all.”
“That video turning up at the film show at the community centre: That bothers me. Roberts didn’t mention anyone else being in on it?”
“No. He said he was frightened and puzzled because it couldn’t have been Miss McAndrew. She was already dead.”
“It’s a loose end, and I don’t like loose ends. Go easy on the whisky, Jimmy. I shouldnae even let you drive.”
“I’ll be just fine.”
Hamish studied the statement again. “I see Cyril Roberts says nothing about fairies.”
“You mean he was gay?”
“No. Look, I’ll tell you if you promise to keep it to yourself.”
“Go ahead. You know me. I never pass on anything you say because it always means, somehow, that Blair’ll get to hear of it and rant and rave and I feel I’ve had enough of that scunner’s temper to last a lifetime.”
“How’s his drinking?”
“Doing great, as far as I know. Swills down doubles like water.”
“That man’s liver must be cast iron by now. Do you know why more people don’t sober up?”
“Why?”
“Because they don’t wear their livers on the outside. If everyone wore their liver on their forehead, say, it would be on full view and people would say, “Heffens, Jock, that liver of yours is looking fair hobnailed,” and they would get shamed into doing something about it.”
“I’m glad, then, mine’s safely tucked away inside, hobnailed boots and all. What were you going to tell me?”
“Elspeth scared Mary Roberts into jumping into the quarry. She put on this weird voice and haunted them. Mary Roberts thought it was the fairies and lost her mind wi’ terror. But if Elspeth hadn’t done it, I wouldn’t maybe have had a chance to get Roberts. He had that shotgun and he would have used it.”
“Pretty lassie, thon Elspeth. Got your leg over yet?”
“Wash your mouth out with soap, Jimmy.”
“Whisky’ll do,” said Jimmy, and poured himself another glass. “Roberts is trying to put all the blame on his wife. But I’ll tell ye one thing that came out at the interview…”
“What?”
“Cyril Roberts was in love with Penny. Now, the wife, she was just obsessed with the idea of having such a beautiful child. But Roberts, it was mad obsession. He was fair crazy about her. I think he was the one who stabbed Miss McAndrew. And I think he’d sooner or later have got rid of his wife to have Penny to himself. I went to see her. She’s a right little minx. You’d think she’d have been shattered, but she seemed to be glorying in the notoriety of it all.”
“Well, Roberts will be put away for a long time. He won’t be seeing her again.”
“He doesnae know that. The crazed wee man thinks she’ll visit him in prison. God help the lassie. He’ll get out when she’s still alive. She’d better change her name and disappear.”
“It’s sad,” said Hamish. “Amy Beattie deserved better from her daughter.”
♦
A few weeks later Hamish returned to the police station after driving round his beat. He saw Elspeth going into the newspaper office and averted his head. He knew he had been avoiding her and felt guilty about it. He owed her a lot, but the memory of that kiss and the emotions it had stirred in him had frightened him. He didn’t want another romantic involvement, particularly one right in the village of Lochdubh.
He parked the police Land Rover and got out. The rain was being driven horizontally across the loch on the screaming wind. There was a slim figure huddled in the shelter of the kitchen door.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’ve come to confess,” said a female voice.
“Come in.” He opened the kitchen door and switched on the light and turned to look at his visitor. At first he did not recognise her, and then with a start he realised his visitor was Jessie Briggs.