Elizabeth thought it over. “I don’t think Heather loved Walter. She didn’t want him to divorce her, but that was for economic reasons.”
“If he was sent to prison for the crime, she would have control of all his money, wouldn’t she?” asked Cameron. “A lot of money and no husband might be preferable to having money and one you didn’t care for, especially if you were always having to worry about your lies coming out. Getting him sent away might have been a great relief for her.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I agree. I think she went to see Colin Campbell early this morning and stabbed him-before he could call that board meeting and ruin her scheme.”
“What about murder number two?”
“Another source of danger,” said Elizabeth. “Lachlan would have known she was a fake as well.”
“He’d have got it faster than I did,” said Cameron. “He knew which part of Edinburgh I came from straight after I’d met him.”
“Blackmail?” asked Lightfoot.
“Maybe,” sighed Elizabeth. “But he didn’t approach her until after Walter was arrested, did he? I don’t know. I’d like to think that he didn’t want the wrong person convicted for the murder, and that he wanted her to give herself up.”
“Blackmail,” said Cameron.
“This isn’t evidence,” Lightfoot warned them.
“Tell Walter the truth about her,” Elizabeth advised. “I’ll bet he knows that she took the skian dubh, and that she wasn’t around early this morning. You’ll have all the evidence you need.”
“You’ll give her the third degree, anyway, won’t you, Sheriff?” asked Cameron.
Lightfoot turned to Elizabeth. “Get him out of here.”
She smiled. “I bet you’ll be glad to get this case out of the way.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He was dialing his mobile telephone. “Hello, Merle? Bring Dr. Hutcheson with you out to Glencoe Park. Yeah, we got a new development. Quick as you can. Out.” The sheriff put the phone back on his belt. “Yep, I sure will be glad to finish this case. We need to get this park back to normal, too.”
“For the Civil War reenactment?”
“Right. I still got practices to schedule. And then after that, I’ll have to come back up here next weekend, because the park is being used by the SCA.”
“Is that the group that dresses up in armor and holds jousting tournaments? Those people are crazy,” sniffed the Chattan Maid of the Cat.
“I agree with you there, ma’am,” said Confederate Colonel Lightfoot MacDonald.
Elizabeth found Marge Hutcheson in the practice meadow with Somerled and the rookie ducks. The feathered troops had calmed down considerably since they realized that they were not intended to be puppy chow, and they were now happily marching through concrete pipes and up little ramps, at the border collie’s bidding.
“We may be able to do the trials again tomorrow,” Marge remarked. “These brutes are nearly manageable now.”
Elizabeth nodded. The collie seemed in perfect control again, sliding across the field like the planchette of a Ouija board. “I came to tell you that the case is solved,” she said quietly.
“Someone confessed?” asked Marge.
“No. Cameron and I figured it out.” She hesitated, wondering what effect this was going to have. Marge didn’t need more complications in her life. She hoped this wouldn’t be one. “It was Heather.”
Marge pulled a cigarette out of the pack in her pocket. “Tell me about it,” she said.
Elizabeth explained about the Duke of Rothesay, and the rest of their deductions. “The sheriff brought Walter back, and we told him the truth. He had known, of course, that she was the logical person to have taken his skian dubh.”
“Didn’t want to believe it, of course,” muttered Marge.
“He did, though,” said Elizabeth. “When they confronted her with the evidence, she confessed, but she’s trying to say that Colin attacked her, and that it was self-defense.”
“Hardly twice in one day,” said Marge dryly. “You say Walter is back?”
“Yes. I think he’s in the camper. The sheriff took Heather away. Walter says that the lawyer can take over her case, since he’s on his way down, anyway.” Elizabeth hesitated again.
“What else?”
“Well… Walter wants to see you.”
“Does he?” Marge smiled. “I expect he does. Poor Walter. He’s had a roller-coaster of a year, hasn’t he?” She brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “I’d better go and see about him.”
“Are you sure?” asked Elizabeth.
Marge Hutcheson smiled. “Oh, yes, Elizabeth. You have to be forgiving in this world. And I think it’s best for Walter. Tell him I’ll be along when I get things packed up here.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHAT a happy ending, thought Elizabeth as she walked back to the festival area. The bagpipes were playing “Scotland the Brave,” and she almost felt like dancing. She was sure that Marge and Walter would get back together again, and she was glad for Marge. And as for herself-the case was over, and there was still another night and half-day of the festival to spend with Cameron. The fleeting thoughts that she spared for Heather were intended to reflect sympathy for her, that she should have resorted to murder over something that should have been so trivial; but Elizabeth was not very good at empathizing with people she disliked. She caught herself gloating, and dismissed Heather from further consideration.
Elizabeth found it easier to be sorry about Lachlan Forsyth. He had been a charming old scoundrel-like Long John Silver-and she regretted his passing. She patted the pocket where she had put the note he left her. Looking toward the souvenir stall, she expected to see it covered in canvas, awaiting removal, but it was surrounded by customers, just as usual. What on earth, she thought.
When she had elbowed her way past a dozen people, Elizabeth found two clerks doing a brisk business: Jimmy and Geoffrey. They were edging around each other, making change and reaching for paper bags with the ease of long-practiced co-workers. “What are you doing in here?” Elizabeth demanded as Geoffrey went by.
“Fleecing this little plaid flock,” Geoffrey purred.
“And Cluny is right over here in his basket. He makes a great crowd-attractor, does Cluny.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Geoffrey lowered his voice. “The money we make will go toward the funeral expenses,” he said quietly. “Jimmy wants it this way.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Well, I’m glad I found you. I wanted you to know that I solved the case.” She tossed her head in satisfaction.
“Did you?”
“Yes! It was Heather. Come out of there for a minute and I’ll tell you about it.”
Geoffrey listened patiently while Elizabeth gave him a full account of the brilliance of her deductions, with a little credit to Cameron for providing all the keys to the puzzle. “It was very simple, really,” she told him. “I knew that Walter would never want Heather if he knew the truth, because he’d think she’d made a fool of him. Heather must have known that, too, of course. And there was no way to shut up Colin Campbell, short of murder. You know what a tartar he was.”
“Very interesting,” said Geoffrey politely.
Elizabeth looked up at him suspiciously. “You needn’t think I’m wrong,” she snapped. “The sheriff agreed with me, and once he got Walter back here and confronted Heather with it, she confessed.”
“You are to be commended,” said Geoffrey gently.
Elizabeth looked embarrassed. “Oh, it isn’t just that. The best part is that Marge and Walter are getting back together. At least, I’ll bet they do. She’s down in the practice meadow now, but she’s going to go and see him in a little while. I’ll bet you anything they’ll be at next year’s festival as a married couple again. I’m really happy for Marge. She’s such a wonderful person that she deserves some happiness.”