The colonel suddenly brought both of his small plump hands down on the desk with a thump that made them all jump.
“I’ve found a way to save Tommel Castle,” he said.
“How? How can we?” gasped Mrs. Halburton-Smythe.
“We’ll open it up as a hotel,” said the colonel triumphantly. “Think of it. With the best shooting and the best fishing here, we’ll make a fortune. We can invite our friends – ”
“No,” said Hamish quickly. “No friends. Mark my words, they’ll look offended when you hand them the bill.”
“Don’t interrupt,” snapped the colonel. “I have to make plans. Priscilla, get that secretary of mine here and get that architect chappie over from Strathbane.”
“Do you think it will work?” asked Priscilla cautiously. “I mean, have we enough to keep going until we open for business?”
“Of course it will work,” said her father robustly. “We’ve just enough to manage on until then. Trust me to come up with something. My chaps in the regiment always relied on me. Always a good man for thinking up ways out of a scrape. That was me.”
Priscilla glanced at Hamish, who gave her a limpid look.
“Well, dear,” said Mrs. Halburton-Smythe, “I am sure we are all grateful to Hamish for – ”
“Stop wittering, woman, and tell the staff they can stay. Priscilla, get that architect on the phone. And you, Macbeth, have you nothing better to do?”
“I’m off,” said Hamish cheerfully. “Grand to see you’re your old horrible self.”
Priscilla followed him out. “Honestly,” she said furiously. “Daddy is the uttermost limit. That was your idea, Hamish.”
“So long as you’re all happy,” said Hamish amiably. “I chust hope I haff not messed up your own career. I mean, surely they won’t expect you to work in the hotel.”
“They won’t. But I’m going to,” said Priscilla. “Can you imagine Daddy as mine host, Hamish? He’ll forget they’re paying guests and start insulting them!”
“I wass going to point out to him that he could have sold off his estates and kept the castle,” said Hamish.
“It wouldn’t have done any good. He wants to keep everything and you’ve found him a way to do it.”
“Aye, that’s what I thought. So long as he remembers that a hotel keeper can’t go on like the lord of the manor.”
“I doubt if he’ll remember it for a moment,” said Priscilia. “I’ll probably have to run it myself and let him think he’s doing it all on his own.”
“You really don’t mind?”
“Not really, Hamish. I was getting tired of London anyway.”
“And I hope you don’t feel guilty anymore,” said Hamish. “Anyone daft enough to trust a rat like Harrington would be bound to lose their money to some fool sooner or later…or their heart.”
Priscilla’s cheeks turned pink. “That’s below the belt, Hamish.”
“Perhaps.”
“Is Alison staying on in Lochdubh?” asked Priscilla, deliberately changing the subject.
“No, she’s getting married to Peter and they’re going to live in London. Let’s hope that’s the last of crime in Lochdubh.” He told her about his visit from Blair.
“I don’t think you’re cut out to be a policeman,” said Priscilla. “You let these detectives walk all over you. And for what? So that you can stay on as village constable and do as little as possible.”
“That’s right,” said Hamish amiably.
“You are infuriating. Why don’t you come in on this hotel lark?” She walked out of the hall with him and across the drive to the police Land Rover.
Hamish raised his hands in mock horror. “Tae my mind, working for your dad would be worse than working for Blair any day. What’s the matter, Priscilla? Don’t you like me the way I am?”
She looked down thoughtfully at her sandalled feet and did not reply.
“Well, cheerio,” said Hamish. “See you around.”
“Hamish, I…”
“Yes?” He turned around.
“Nothing,” mumbled Priscilla.
As Hamish drove down to the police station, he found he was feeling very happy indeed, almost elated. It could surely not be because a moneyless, hotel-owning, working Priscilla was within his reach.
No, he told himself, that nonsense was over, but happiness bubbled inside him. He felt sure the days of crime were over for Lochdubh, and Priscilla would be just up the road all year round.
In the evening, he realised he had forgotten to buy anything for his dinner. He had sent, as usual, a good part of his monthly wage back to his mother and father and brothers and sisters over in Cromarty and so he could not afford to dine at the hotel. He ransacked his cupboards and came up with a solitary tin of baked beans.
“Beans it’ll have tae be,” he said to Towser. “And no butcher’s meat for you tonight, my boy. Dog food’s all we’ve got.” Towser hung his head and glared at the linoleum.
The phone rang. Hamish put down the cans and went to answer it. The caller was Priscilla.
“Hamish,” she said. “There are a few points about this hotel business we would like to discuss with you. Could you possibly come to dinner this evening? Just the family and don’t dress. You can even bring Towser.”
Hamish accepted the invitation. He put down the phone and grinned at the receiver. “The auld man must hae been at the whisky,” he said to Towser who had followed him. “Dinner at the castle for us. Come along.”
He put on a clean shirt and tie and a pair of new trousers. He gave Towser a quick brush and then led the dog out to the police Land Rover.
“Times are changing, Towser,” said Hamish Macbeth as he drove through the heathery twilight.
