loss.”
“Who inherits his money?” asked Hamish.
“Probably the state will take most of it like they always do when someone has been profiting from drugs. His only living relative is his sister, a churchy woman, who’s horrified at her brother’s criminal activities. Got to go. Give me that phone and I’ll get it over to forensics.”
Hamish and Josie drove to a restaurant in Strathbane. A woman at the next table said loudly, “The day when policemen actually took a bath seems to be long over.”
Josie dissolved into giggles.
“We really must smell something awful,” said Hamish. “After this, we’ll get back to Lochdubh and clean up. I’ve got an old uniform I can use. What about you?”
“I’ve got a spare recently,” said Josie.
They had a pleasant meal. Hamish was in high good humour. He felt the case was beginning to break at last.
Josie thought about her mad dream of drugging him. What a silly idea!
At the town hall, Hamish asked to be directed to wherever the switchboard was. He was grateful that the town hall was old-fashioned and didn’t go in for a phone tree-press one for so-and-so, press two for someone else, and so on.
The young girl at the switchboard seemed vaguely familiar. “Police,” he said. “Just a few questions. What is your name?”
“ Iona Sinclair.”
“Have we met? I am Police Constable Hamish Macbeth.”
“I saw you last year at the crowning of the Lammas queen. It was promised to me because Annie had been queen the year before, but she got it again which wasn’t fair.”
Iona was a tall girl in her late teens with hair as red as Hamish’s own, green eyes, and freckled skin. She had the lilting accent of the Outer Hebrides.
“We’re interested in a call that came through here to the switchboard on the evening Mark Lussie was murdered,” said Hamish.
“Well, we close at five o’clock. There were a lot of calls before then. People ask for various departments.”
“Did anyone ask for waste disposal?”
“We get a lot of those. People are always girning on about the evil dustmen, persecuting them because the waste isn’t in the proper bins.”
“Did you know Annie Fleming well?”
“I was at school with her, but she wasn’t popular with the girls. She was too busy chatting up the teachers.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“Harry Massie, the English teacher.”
“Is he still teaching at the school?”
“Last I heard.”
Outside the town hall, Hamish sighed. “Another suspect. Let’s see this English teacher.”
“What about Iona?” asked Josie. “She must have borne a grudge against Annie.”
“I haven’t forgotten her,” said Hamish. “But she doesnae seem the type to know how to put together a sophisticated bomb.”
Harry Massie was a tall, rangy man in his late thirties. He had thick brown hair, a beaky nose, and a small mouth. He was wearing corduroy trousers and a well-worn Harris tweed jacket over a checked shirt open at the neck.
“We want to ask you about Annie Fleming,” said Hamish.
Josie got an inner glow. Hamish was beginning to say we.
“Poor girl. Any idea who did it?”
“Not as yet. I must ask you this: Did Annie Fleming make a pass at you?”
“By all that’s holy, someone who doesn’t think she was a saint. Yes, she did.”
“Explain what happened.”
The classroom smelled of chalk, sweat, and dust. Outside the wind howled and screeched.
Harry leaned on his desk. “Annie was very good at English. Then she started waiting in the classroom until the others had left, asking me questions. I began to feel uneasy because other members of the staff began to tease me about being seen alone with Annie. So I told her that if she had any questions, to put them in writing and leave them on my desk and not to stay behind in the classroom. I was very firm with her. I held the door open for her and she…she stuck her tongue in my ear.
“I told her I would report her and she laughed and said who would ever believe me and if I didn’t keep my mouth shut she would report me for having tried to rape her. I felt nothing but relief when she left the school for good.”
“Who’s the chemistry teacher here?”
“Sol Queen. But I hardly think…”
“Where can we find him?” asked Hamish.
Harry glanced at his watch. “He’ll be in the staff room having a break. I’ll take you along.”
Various teachers were standing at an open window in the staff room, smoking and braving the gale that was blowing in.
“Sol,” said Harry. “The police want a word with you.”
An elderly teacher turned around. He had sparse grey hair and thick glasses. “We can’t talk here,” he said. “Come outside.”
Josie and Hamish followed him into the corridor. “What is it?” he asked, peering myopically up at Hamish. Hamish thought that Annie could hardly have made a pass at this elderly gentleman, so he asked instead, “Is there anyone you can think of who might have the expertise to make a letter bomb?”
“Funnily enough, I’ve thought of that. But I cannot think of anyone at all-apart from me. I mean, I would know which chemicals to use, but I would not know how to install the fuse. That takes a lot of sophisticated knowledge.”
Hamish had a sudden idea. “Do you have computer classes in the school?”
“No. We were supposed to get them, but there is so much else needing to be done here. The roof’s in need of repair and it would mean finding extra money over the cost of the computers to hire another teacher.”
Hamish thanked him and then, as they walked towards the entrance, he phoned Jimmy. “Did forensics go through Annie’s computer?”
“She didnae have one,” said Jimmy. “Her father says that computers are the instruments o’ the devil. They searched the one at the wildlife place but nothing but business on it.”
Hamish rang off. “I can’t think of any young person who didn’t use the Internet,” he said. “There’s that new Internet cafe, just off the main street. Let’s try there.”
The Internet cafe was run by a Pole, Lech Nowak, and the place was full of Polish accents as other immigrants e-mailed home.
Hamish asked whether Annie Fleming had ever used the cafe. “The girl that was murdered? No, she never came in here,” said Lech.
Another possible lead gone, thought Hamish gloomily.
The cafe sold snacks, so Hamish suggested they should both eat something. He hoped his pets
