“I’ll get them on to it. Getting anywhere?”
“The two people I’ve talked to so far think she was the epitome of respectability,” said Hamish. “What gets me is if she was on the game, how did she advertise?”
♦
For the rest of the day, Hamish trudged from door to door until he was weary. At last he joined his grumbling animals in the police Land Rover and set out for Lochdubh after checking with Jimmy.
He stopped halfway there and let them out for a run. The weather had turned cold again and he shivered as he walked up and down, waiting for the dog and cat to come back.
He eventually got them back by rattling their feed bowls. “You’ve been fed already today,” he grumbled, “but if you’re good, I’ll find you something when we get home.”
♦
As Hamish drove along the waterfront of Lochdubh, he suddenly stopped the Land Rover and stared ahead at the police station. It was a clear starry night, and he could see smoke rising from his chimney.
If someone wanted to ambush me, he thought, they’d hardly go to the trouble of lighting the fire. He drove on and parked outside. The kitchen light was on.
The door was unlocked. He opened it and went inside.
Elspeth Grant was sitting at his kitchen table. Hamish felt a sudden surge of gladness. She looked more like the old Elspeth than the citified one she had become recently. Her hair was frizzy and formed a halo round her face. Her peculiar silvery eyes looked at him seriously. She was wearing a black cashmere sweater over black corduroy trousers and black suede boots.
“Who’s dead?” asked Hamish.
“I came to ask you that. This murder over at Bonar. I went straight there but I couldn’t find you.”
“I meant the black clothes.”
“I was sent up here in a hurry, and put on the first things that came to hand.” The cat let out a slow hiss and Lugs glared up at her.
“I see your two wives are as jealous as ever,” said Elspeth.
“Just cut that out,” said Hamish. “I’d forgotten what a nasty piece of work you could be.”
“Simmer down. You’ve forgotten what a help I can be.” She fished in a bag at her feet and produced a bottle of whisky. “Want a dram?”
“I could do with one.” Hamish sat down with a sigh. “Then I need to eat something.”
“Have a glass and then I’ll take you to the Italian restaurant.”
“Can I take Lugs and Sonsie with us? They’ll give them something in the kitchen. And don’t look at me in that pitying way.”
“Sure. Bring them by all means.” Elspeth opened the bottle as Hamish put two glasses on the table. She poured them each a generous measure.
There was a knock at the kitchen door. “If that’s my photographer, get rid of him,” said Elspeth. “He’s the world’s worst bore.”
But it was Lesley. “I came to get my pot and plate,” she said. “Oh, you’ve got company.”
Hamish made the introductions. “A reporter!” exclaimed Lesley. “You should know better than speak to the press.”
“We’re old friends,” said Elspeth. “And Hamish knows I never use anything without his permission.”
Lesley stood awkwardly. “Anyway, I came to pick up my things and thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful.”
Elspeth wished she would go away. But her innate highland courtesy, combined with the fact that this was a forensic expert who might have some interesting details, prompted her to say, “I was just about to take Hamish out for dinner. Why don’t you join us?”
“I don’t want to barge in…”
“It’s all right. Give her a glass, Hamish, and then when we finish our drinks, we’ll walk along to the restaurant.”
♦
Over an excellent meal, Lesley listened as Hamish began to talk about the three murders. It was a concise and intelligent report. Lesley felt a stab of irritation that such an obviously intelligent man should waste his talents stuck in a highland village. Of course, if he married the right sort of woman, she would drum some sense into his head.
Then she became aware that Elspeth’s eyes were surveying her. And those eyes seemed to be saying, I know exactly what you ‘re thinking. To her fury, Lesley found herself blushing. She rose to her feet. “Got to go to the loo.”
“Hamish, oh Hamish,” teased Elspeth when they were alone. “She plans to marry you and make you over.”
“Stop havering, Elspeth, and turn your mind to these murders. What do you think?”
“There doesn’t seem to be anything to connect them. If Fiona McNulty was on the game, then that sort of life can lead to violence and her death may not be connected to the others. Catriona seems to have made so many enemies, it’s hard to know where to start. Now, it’s the one in the middle that fascinates me – Ina Braid.”
“Why her?”
“Think about it. Here’s a decent God-fearing woman, hardly a murderee. So she must have known something. It stands to reason. So the thing to do is to ask and see if she said something to anyone. I feel she must have said something, and if she did whoever she talked to might be too frightened to say anything. She must be part of the first murder, but I can’t see any reason for the murder at Bonar.”
Lesley rejoined them. “We’ve just been discussing the murders,” said Hamish. “Any idea when Fiona McNulty was killed?”
“About four or five days ago at a guess. Someone must have battled their way through the snow to get to her. The mobile home’s parked on heather so there’s no hope of getting a footprint. Everything in the trailer had been wiped clean. Not even a spare hair.”
“Do you know if they found a mobile phone?”
“No sign of one.”
“Anything off that threatening note?”
“What threatening note?” asked Elspeth.
“Someone called her a whore and told her she’d be next.”
“We’re working on it. It was written on a computer,” said Lesley. “But whoever wrote it used gloves.”
“No sign of a weapon?” asked Hamish.
“No, but it was not the same weapon that killed Ina Braid. This was as if it had been done with something like a hunting knife. The stab wounds on Catriona’s body were made with something with a serrated edge, like a bread knife.”
Hamish suddenly wanted to be alone with Elspeth.
“I think you should be getting on your road, Lesley,” he said. “The weather’s changing and you don’t want to be caught in a blizzard.”
Lesley looked from one to the other and then got up and put on her coat. Hamish walked with her to the door of the restaurant. “Good night,” he said firmly. She looked past him to where Elspeth was sitting watching them and then she stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on Hamish’s cheek, said breathlessly, “I’ll phone you,” and hurried off into the night.
∨ Death of a Witch ∧
7
The mair they talk I’m kent the better.
– Robert Bums
“What if,” said Elspeth when Hamish returned and sat down, “the murder of Fiona McNulty has nothing to do with the other two? She was a woman living alone in a trailer. Some passing maniac might have wanted money for drink or drugs. Was she sexually assaulted? And was there any money in the mobile home?”
“I’m slipping,” said Hamish ruefully. “I’ll phone Jimmy.”
Jimmy answered and asked, “Where are you?”
“I’m in the Italian restaurant.”
“Be with you in a minute. I’m along at the station.”
Hamish rang off and said, “Jimmy’s in Lochdubh. He’ll be with us in a few minutes.”
Jimmy arrived and shrugged off his coat. “Man, I’m famished.”