Highland Laddie Gone

“No,” Cameron agreed. “But most of the ones here don’t know much about Scotland in the present century.”

“They don’t even want to. They’re perfectly happy rooting around for ancestors who might have held the Bonnie Prince’s horse, or been a third cousin of someone with a title. Titles are very glamorous to Americans. So when Heather McSkye-”

“Which couldn’t be her real name,” Cameron put in. “McSkye, indeed!”

“-When Heather claimed to be the niece of a duke, it just bowled poor Walter over.”

“So?” growled Lightfoot, hoping this was leading somewhere soon.

“So he divorced his wife and married her, which I’m practically sure he wouldn’t have done otherwise. He might have been attracted to her, but I think it would have passed otherwise. She wasn’t a very nice person.”

“She was a right bloody bitch.”

“Which brings us to another not-very-nice person,” said Elizabeth, ignoring him. “Colin Campbell. He was obsessed with Scottish traditions, and ancestry, and all the rest of it. So when he heard who Heather claimed to be, he knew she was a phony.”

“Why?” asked Lightfoot, interested.

Elizabeth explained about the Duke of Rothesay, and Heather’s real background as evidenced by her accent and manner. “Cameron knew she was a fake right away,” she said.

The sheriff looked over at Dr. Dawson. “Then how come you’re not dead, boy?”

“I think it’s because I let her know that I wasn’t interested in giving the game away,” said Cameron slowly.

“I think it’s because he hasn’t been near her since, and he hasn’t been alone all day,” said Elizabeth. “Anyway, Colin Campbell would have been delighted to make a fool of Walter in front of the whole festival. He already had a score to settle with him about that land business.”

The sheriff nodded. “I know about that. Go on.”

“He told Walter that he wanted to call a meeting about a fraud, and he meant Lachlan Forsyth and the S.R.A., but then he met Heather. I’m sure he was planning to put her in as Fraud: Part Two, and she overheard about the meeting and may have known what he planned. He let her know he was on to her.”

“How?”

“He congratulated her on having a new baby cousin. Prince Charles and Princess Diana have a new baby, of course. So that she knew that he realized who the Duke of Rothesay was.”

“So she killed him to keep the secret?”

“Yes. She had just as much access to Walter’s skian dubh as he did.”

“That’s the part that don’t make sense,” Lightfoot remarked. “If a woman kills somebody in order to keep her husband from being disillusioned with her, then why would she go and use his weapon-marked with his fingerprints-and get him arrested for the crime?”

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.”