Death of a Village (24 page)

The word came back from Daviot that as he was supposed to be ill, Detective Chief Inspector Blair would be over to have a word with them.

Blair eventually arrived. He looked in high good humour. Hamish opened the kitchen door a crack and listened.

‘You lads want a statement,’ said Blair, ‘so I suggest we all go to the pub and I’ll give you one.’

‘What about Macbeth?’ shouted one.

‘You won’t get him. He’s off on vacation. Come along.’

Hamish waited until they had gone, then phoned Archie Maclean. ‘Blair’s taken the press along to the pub to make a statement. Could you do me a favour and get along there and see
what he’s saying?’

‘I’ll do that,’ said Archie. ‘But you owe me a dram.’

Hamish waited patiently that morning until he heard a knock at the kitchen door. He opened it and Archie slid in.

‘I haff neffer heard such a load o’ twaddle,’ said Archie. ‘I doubt if thae press’ll be bothering you for a long time.’

‘What did Blair say?’ asked Hamish, lifting down the whisky bottle and setting a glass in front of Archie. ‘Help yourself.’

‘The big man started off by telling them you still had the exhaustion but would be back at work in a couple of weeks. Then he began to tell them what a great detective he was, getting
drunker and louder by the minute. One by one they left and by the time they had all gone he was bragging away to an empty space. Then he got in his car and drove off.’

‘He
drove?’

‘Aye, but he won’t get very far.’

‘Why?’

‘I phoned Strathbane and said there was a fat man drunk as a skunk that had just left the pub and taken the Strathbane road, driving a W-reg Volvo. You look fine tae me. Are you suffering
from the exhaustion?’

‘Not really. Just want a holiday.’

‘Are you going away?’

‘I might. My dog got injured.’

‘Lugs! What’s been happening? There wass a bit in the papers, they say, but I havenae seen them yet.’

Hamish told Archie about his adventures. ‘So,’ he finished, ‘I’d better enjoy my bit of rest because I’ll be spending a lot of time in court giving
evidence.’

‘Do you know it’s all around Lochdubh that you and Angela Brodie were seen holding hands?’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Hamish crossly.

‘The Currie sisters tackled her with it and she telt them herself had been in love wi’ you for years.’

‘I’d better see Angela and put a stop to it. She never did realize what a lot of damage a misplaced sense of humour can do in a village.’

Angela, confronted by him half an hour later, looked guilty. ‘You know how it is, Hamish. They are so gossipy and righteous, I couldn’t resist it.’

‘The trouble is, Angela, if I go around denying it, folks will really begin to think there’s something in it.’

‘Maybe you should be seen around with Elspeth.’

‘I tried to phone her but she hung up on me.’

‘Have a word with her. She’s a pretty, clever girl. You couldn’t do better than that.’

‘I’ve had enough of women.’

‘Then stop chasing after the unavailable ones.’

‘I’ll have a chat with her anyway.’

‘Coffee?’

Hamish eyed the cats strolling across Angela’s kitchen table. ‘I’ll maybe drop by and have some later.’

He walked along to the newspaper offices. The air was clear and sharp. The loch lay glassy and still as if not even a breath of wind had ever disturbed it. The sound of chain saws echoed across
the loch where the forestry workers were clearing the debris of fallen trees. Peat smoke rose from cottage chimneys, straight up into the air. A pale blue sky stretched overhead and the sun was a
hazy yellow, as if it were losing its strength before the Highland winter had even arrived.

He was told Elspeth was out reporting but expected back soon. He turned up the lane past the Currie sisters’ cottage and round to where the Bains lived.

Mr Bain answered the door. He looked shamefaced when he saw Hamish and said, ‘You must think me a right fool. Come in.’

Hamish followed him into the living room. ‘Is that why you left Stoyre?’ he asked.

‘Aye. Sit down and take the weight off your feet. I was right scared. I didn’t want to have a part of it. They all believed, you see, that they would get the Holy Grail, drink from
it, and live forever.’

‘Didn’t you believe it yourself?’

‘I thought it was meddling in things best left alone but I was taken in by it all. I thought it best to clear out of Stoyre to where life was normal. But it had frightened me enough to be
terrified to speak of it. I’m glad you found out it was a trick or there would be some children like my wee girl having nightmares for the rest of their lives. Can I get you something?
Coffee, tea, drink?’

‘No, I’m fine. I’ll be on my way.’

Harry Bain looked at him awkwardly. ‘I hope it works out for you.’

‘Oh, the case is finished and I’m on holiday. All over now.’

‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘What did you mean?’

‘It’s just it must be hard on you being in love with a married woman.’

‘I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH ANGELA!’ howled Hamish.

‘Oh, the poor woman. She’s in love with you and you don’t want to know.’

‘Use your wits, man. She was teasing the Currie sisters. Angela was with me at the vet’s. I was sore upset because I thought Lugs wasn’t going to make it, and being the
warm-hearted person she is, she held my hand.’

‘Is that a fact? You’ll disappoint a lot of people,’ said Harry.

‘Why?’

‘My wife was just saying how they were all enjoying a good gossip.’

Hamish groaned. ‘Visions o’ God, Holy Grail, shipwreck, murder and mayhem, and all you lot can find to talk about is a mythical affair.’

‘I suppose. You know how it is. Anyway, turns out I missed out by leaving Stoyre. The money’s pouring into the village after that television programme. Still, it’s better in
Lochdubh. There’s more life here.’

Hamish left him and then walked to Mr Jefferson’s cottage. He knocked on the door and Mr Jefferson answered it. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said. ‘I read all about you in
the papers. You might have let me in on the action.’

‘If you mean the latest fright, how was I to guess some murderous German would still be roaming around? How are you doing? Still going south? Back to the city?’

‘I keep putting it off. There’s more things happen in this village than I could have guessed. Archie Maclean took me out fishing one night. Dr Brodie took me over to Strath-bane for
a round of golf, and various ladies of the village have been inviting me for meals. I’m beginning to enjoy myself. Sometimes I think of Annie and feel guilty.’

‘Annie Docherty is the one person who would have loved the idea of you enjoying yourself in Lochdubh,’ said Hamish.

‘True. There’s a lot goes on in the village. What’s this about you having an affair with the doctor’s wife?’

After he had put Mr Jefferson straight on the matter of Angela, Hamish headed back to the newspaper office This time Elspeth was sitting at her computer, a pencil stuck in her hair.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said curtly. ‘Any more stories you want to keep from me?’

‘Elspeth, I’m right sorry. But look at it this way. I’d been up all night in the hurricane and then they all arrived from Strathbane. There wasn’t time. Did you get my
flowers?’

‘Yes, and your soppy message.’

Hamish’s hazel eyes sharpened. ‘What message? I simply apologized.’

‘And sent me all your love.

‘That was Jimmy Anderson. He must have decided to spice up the message.’

‘So you couldn’t even send them yourself.’

‘Elspeth, this is ridiculous. What on earth are we quarrelling about?’

She stared down at her computer for a long moment. Then she raised her eyes. ‘Okay, buy me dinner.’

‘When?’

‘Eight o’clock tonight.’

‘I’ll be there. The Italian’s?’

‘That’ll do.’

That evening, Hamish phoned the vet and was told that he could pick up his dog on the following day. ‘The thing I don’t understand, Fred,’ said Hamish,
‘is why Lugs did not bark. That German said he lured him with a piece of cheese. But Lugs has a sixth sense for danger.’

‘I think I can answer that. I was busy today and had only time to grab a bite to eat in the surgery. I took out some crackers and a piece of Stilton I had in the surgery fridge and the
most terrible howling and barking came from the pens next door. I went through with the cracker and Stilton in my hand and there’s Lugs, going frantic. I opened the pen and offered him the
cracker and Stilton and he fair gulped it down and nearly took my fingers with it. Did you ever find out where Lugs came from?’

‘No, just that he was lost up on the moors.’

‘Maybe his previous owner had rich tastes. Your dog’ll be looking for the port to go with it next.’

Hamish laughed and promised to be over the next morning.

He took out his one good suit and brushed it carefully, his one good shirt, and one good silk tie. He hadn’t a decent pair of shoes so he wore his regulation boots. His feet would be under
the table anyway.

Elspeth in a cherry-red wool dress and black mohair stole made her way along the waterfront to the restaurant. She was looking forward to the evening. She was glad their
quarrel was over.

She was so absorbed in happy thoughts that she did not notice the approach of the Currie sisters until they bobbed up in front of her, the lights on the waterfront shining on their thick
glasses.

‘And where are we off to tonight?’ asked Nessie.

‘I’m joining Hamish for dinner.’

‘A young lassie like you could do better for herself than hang around with that adulterer, adulterer,’ said Jessie.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Elspeth, trying to walk round them, but Nessie clutched her arm.

‘Did no one tell you? It’s all over the village.’

‘No, folks wouldn’t tell
you,’
said Nessie. ‘You’d be the last to know.’

‘Last to know,’ prompted Jessie.

‘Know what? Look, it’s getting late . . .’

‘Hamish Macbeth is having an affair with Angela Brodie.’

‘And who told you that?’ demanded Elspeth scornfully.

‘Why, Angela herself. Did she not tell us, bold as brass, that she had been in love with him for ages?’

‘I’ve got to go,’ said Elspeth, tugging her arm free. She walked towards the restaurant and then stopped. Hamish seemed to confide in Angela a lot. She remembered days when she
would see them standing together on the waterfront, talking, their heads together.

All her resentment at Hamish came flooding back.

She turned on her heel and went home.

‘Are ye no’ going to order?’ asked Willie Lamont.

‘Not yet,’ said Hamish. ‘I’m waiting for Elspeth. She’s late. I’ll give her a ring.’

He waited until Willie had retreated, then he took out his mobile phone and dialled her home number.

‘Yes?’ came Elspeth’s voice on the phone.

‘Where are you?’ asked Hamish. ‘I mean aren’t you coming?’

‘No, and I don’t suppose you’ll be lonely for long. Why don’t you ask Angela Brodie, or have you finally had some decent consideration for her husband?’

Hamish did not often lose his temper but he lost it now. ‘For God’s sake, you silly cow . . .’

‘What
did you call me?’

‘I’m sorry, Elspeth. It’s just that –’

She slammed down the phone. He tried ringing several times again but got the engaged signal.

He waved Willie over. ‘She’s not coming. I’ll just have a bowl of spaghetti and a glass of your house wine.’

‘Right, Hamish. You know, Hamish, I’m always here for you.’

Hamish looked at him in surprise. ‘Thanks, Willie.’

‘I mean, a man in trouble could always do with someone to speak to.’

Hamish’s eyes narrowed.

‘Out with it, Willie.’

‘I know the kirk says that adulteration is a bad thing, but . . .’

‘The word is adultery!’ shouted Hamish.

There was a silence in the restaurant as the other diners stared at him.

‘Forget my order,’ said Hamish Macbeth, and slammed out of the restaurant door.

The following day, he collected Lugs and drove back towards Lochdubh with the dog beside him on the passenger seat.

‘Now, what’ll we do with our vacation, old friend?’ said Hamish. ‘I feel like going down to Inverness and picking up some pretty girl.’

Lugs let out a low growl.

‘Oh, you got that one all right,’ said Hamish. ‘But you couldn’t even sniff out a murder, you were that keen on Stilton.’

I’m really going barmy, he thought sadly. I’m talking about holidays with a dog.

If you enjoyed
Death of a Village,
read on for the first chapter of the next book in the
Hamish Macbeth
series . . .

Jenny Ogilvie was curled up on a sofa in her friend Priscilla Halburton-Smythe’s London flat. They had been talking for most of the evening. Jenny was secretly jealous of
Priscilla’s cool blonde looks. Although an attractive girl herself with her mop of black curls and rosy cheeks, she longed to look as stylish and composed as her friend.

A desire to rattle her friend’s calm prompted her to say, ‘You’ve talked an awful lot about this village policeman, Hamish Macbeth. I mean, you’ve barely mentioned your
fiancé. Come on. What gives? I think you’re still in love with this copper.’

A faint tide of pink rose up Priscilla’s face. ‘I was engaged to him once and we shared a lot of adventures. But that’s all. What about
your
love life? You’ve been
letting me do all the talking.’

‘Oh, you know me. I like to shop around,’ said Jenny. ‘I’m not prepared to settle down yet.’

‘What happened to Giles? You did seem frightfully keen on him.’

‘He bored me after a bit,’ lied Jenny, who had no intention of letting Priscilla know that Giles had broken off with her the minute she had hinted at marriage.