“You better share my room for the rest of the night,” said Perry. “It’s got twin beds.”
“It’s all right,” said Priscilla. “There’s a free room next to mine.”
I really am beginning to hate you, thought Elspeth, but she smiled and said, “Perry and I have stories to discuss. I’ll share his room.”
♦
When Elspeth settled into the twin bed in Perry’s room, she said in a small voice, “Do you think I was imagining things?”
“I heard one of the maids say you were psychic. Did you sense anything?”
“No. I get strange feelings from time to time but I can’t seem to conjure them up when I need them.”
“It’ll be all right. We’ll try to get to the police station in the morning. Go to sleep.”
If this were a romance, thought Elspeth, he would take me in his arms and say he would protect me for the rest of his life. A few minutes later, Perry let out a gentle snore. So much for romance! Elspeth turned on her side and drifted down into a dream where a dark figure was chasing her along endless corridors.
♦
Priscilla was thinking of Perry. He was so attractive and so suitable. He was everything Hamish Macbeth was not. She wondered if there was anything going on with Elspeth. Elspeth often looked as if she bought her clothes exclusively in the cheapest type of thrift shop, but there was no denying that men did seem to be attracted to her. I’ll need to think up some way to have him to myself, thought Priscilla. Elspeth’s bound to go off on her own sometime or other.
♦
Lesley sighed with relief when she reached the forensic lab the following morning. She’d had to walk because the streets of Strathbane had not yet been cleared. Bruce, the head of the lab, was the only other person there.
“The lazy sods are using the snow as an excuse not to come to work,” he complained as Lesley pulled off her boots and put on a pair of dry flat shoes. “Well, that’s Fergus Braid off the hook.”
“What?”
“I was in the pub last night. Blair was furious, trying to say Macbeth made it up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Last evening Macbeth found a witness over in Cnothan who had seen Fergus at the time of his wife’s murder.”
“Did you say yesterday evening?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Just wondered.” Lesley bit her lip in vexation. So that was why he had still been in uniform and had brought those wretched animals with him. He must be furious with her. She decided to phone him.
“The phones aren’t working and in case you haven’t noticed, we haven’t any electricity, either,” said Bruce.
“There’s nothing we can do until the power comes on.”
“Haven’t we got a generator?”
“No,” lied Bruce, who had in fact borrowed it for his home during an earlier power cut and forgotten to bring it back.
♦
On the same clear and very cold morning, Elspeth and Perry borrowed skis and managed to make their way to the police station.
Hamish listened intently. He knew Elspeth well enough not to accuse her of imagining things. When Elspeth and Perry had finished talking, he said, “I can’t understand how someone would get up to the hotel in a raging blizzard unless it was one of the guests. Which guests who were here at the murder of Catriona are still at the hotel?”
“I don’t know,” said Elspeth.
“But I do,” said Priscilla from the doorway. Elspeth scowled. He saw the way Priscilla looked at Perry. Couldn’t that damn female leave her just one man?
“Who are they?” asked Hamish.
“Just the one. A Mr. Garry.”
“We checked on him.” Hamish had piles of papers spread out in front of him on the table.
“Ah, here we are! Mr. Dominic Garry. Stockbroker. Likes hill walking. Fifty-five years old. He’s pretty fit?”
“Yes. He’s tall and thin. Does a lot of walking. We borrowed the last of the skis so I don’t suppose he’ll be going anywhere today.”
“I’ll get up to the hotel and have a word with him.”
“We’d better get started on your colour piece, Perry,” said Elspeth. “We’ll go along to the Highland Times and use a desk there.”
“I heard the snow plough going past,” said Priscilla. “You might be able to get up there in the Land Rover, Hamish. I’ll come with you.”
As they arrived at the hotel forecourt, Priscilla said, “That’s Mr. Garry. Just leaving.” Hamish jumped down from the Land Rover and called out, “Mr. Garry! A word with you!”
Garry was wearing an expensive anorak over thick knee breeches and sturdy boots.
“I was just going out for a walk,” he said. “Isn’t it beautiful in the snow?”
“If you wouldn’t mind coming back into the hotel. It won’t take long,” said Hamish.
When they were seated in a corner of the lounge, Hamish waited until Garry had shrugged off his anorak and said, “As you will have heard, Mr. Garry, there have been murders committed.”
“And what’s that got to do with me?”
“I am just asking everyone around if they might have see anything,” said Hamish soothingly. “Now, I see from my notes that you are a stockbroker from London. I am curious as to why you are up here on such a long holiday. This hotel is expensive.”
“Do I have to tell you?” Hamish’s eyes sharpened. “Of course.”
“I had a nervous breakdown. You can check with my psychiatrist. I’ll give you his number. He suggested I take a long break as far away from London as possible. I have plenty of money, and this has been a very healing experience.”
“What caused the breakdown?”
“I was wrongly accused of insider trading. By the time my name was cleared and I was settling down, my wife asked for a divorce. Come up to my room. I am going to give you phone numbers to check my story and then will you please leave me alone? I will also telephone my psychiatrist and give him permission to speak to you. I gather the phones are working again.”
♦
Hamish, when he got back to the police station, telephoned the psychiatrist. As he listened, his heart sank. He had been hoping that it would turn out some crazed outsider had been responsible. But the psychiatrist confirmed that Garry had indeed had a nervous breakdown. He said that in his opinion, Garry was a gentle man, not suited for the cutthroat life of the City. The divorce had been the final straw. He had private means. He warned Hamish not to upset him.
Hamish gloomily went back to studying his notes. Surely somewhere in the middle of all this information was something he had missed.
His eyes fell on the statement he had taken from Timmy Teviot. The man hadn’t been lying about the poachers, but there had been something else he hadn’t been saying. There had been something at the back of his eyes, and Hamish was suddenly sure he knew about the brothel.
Timmy wouldn’t be working today. The road right round the loch wouldn’t be cleared yet, but he decided to put his skis on and call on Timmy.
The phone rang. It was Lesley. “Hamish, I am very sorry…,” she was beginning.
“Talk to you later,” said Hamish. “Got to rush,” and put the phone down.
The phone immediately rang again.
“I told you…,” Hamish was beginning when Elspeth’s voice came down the line.
“It’s me, Elspeth. Hamish, while Perry was writing his piece, I’ve been thinking and thinking about the murders. The one thing that seems to tie them all together is sex.”
“Sex!”
“Think about it.”
∨ Death of a Witch ∧
10
The beaten men come into their own.