it because she didn’t really know anything. But once it was done, we shut her up in a cupboard bound and gagged. I got rid of the car. If only I had put Jenny in it. That was a big mistake. So it had to be the quarry.”
Hamish looked up from his reading. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense?” asked Jimmy.
“That a perfectly respectable Highland couple should resort to such mad violence.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Jimmy. “You don’t know everything, Sherlock.”
“What?”
“Mary Roberts was at one time in her early life sectioned for psychopathy. Cyril Roberts used to be in the Royal Marines and spent a long time in the glasshouse and then got a dishonourable discharge for nearly beating an officer to death.”
“We never thought to dig up their backgrounds,” mourned Hamish. “What about Penny? How’s she taking it?”
“Last heard, she’s selling her story to the
“That video turning up at the film show at the community centre: That bothers me. Roberts didn’t mention anyone else being in on it?”
“No. He said he was frightened and puzzled because it couldn’t have been Miss McAndrew. She was already dead.”
“It’s a loose end, and I don’t like loose ends. Go easy on the whisky, Jimmy. I shouldnae even let you drive.”
“I’ll be just fine.”
Hamish studied the statement again. “I see Cyril Roberts says nothing about fairies.”
“You mean he was gay?”
“No. Look, I’ll tell you if you promise to keep it to yourself.”
“Go ahead. You know me. I never pass on anything you say because it always means, somehow, that Blair’ll get to hear of it and rant and rave and I feel I’ve had enough of that scunner’s temper to last a lifetime.”
“How’s his drinking?”
“Doing great, as far as I know. Swills down doubles like water.”
“That man’s liver must be cast iron by now. Do you know why more people don’t sober up?”
“Why?”
“Because they don’t wear their livers on the outside. If everyone wore their liver on their forehead, say, it would be on full view and people would say, “Heffens, Jock, that liver of yours is looking fair hobnailed,” and they would get shamed into doing something about it.”
“I’m glad, then, mine’s safely tucked away inside, hobnailed boots and all. What were you going to tell me?”
“Elspeth scared Mary Roberts into jumping into the quarry. She put on this weird voice and haunted them. Mary Roberts thought it was the fairies and lost her mind wi’ terror. But if Elspeth hadn’t done it, I wouldn’t maybe have had a chance to get Roberts. He had that shotgun and he would have used it.”
“Pretty lassie, thon Elspeth. Got your leg over yet?”
“Wash your mouth out with soap, Jimmy.”
“Whisky’ll do,” said Jimmy, and poured himself another glass. “Roberts is trying to put all the blame on his wife. But I’ll tell ye one thing that came out at the interview…”
“What?”
“Cyril Roberts was in love with Penny. Now, the wife, she was just obsessed with the idea of having such a beautiful child. But Roberts, it was mad obsession. He was fair crazy about her. I think he was the one who stabbed Miss McAndrew. And I think he’d sooner or later have got rid of his wife to have Penny to himself. I went to see her. She’s a right little minx. You’d think she’d have been shattered, but she seemed to be glorying in the notoriety of it all.”
“Well, Roberts will be put away for a long time. He won’t be seeing her again.”
“He doesnae know that. The crazed wee man thinks she’ll visit him in prison. God help the lassie. He’ll get out when she’s still alive. She’d better change her name and disappear.”
“It’s sad,” said Hamish. “Amy Beattie deserved better from her daughter.”
¦
A few weeks later Hamish returned to the police station after driving round his beat. He saw Elspeth going into the newspaper office and averted his head. He knew he had been avoiding her and felt guilty about it. He owed her a lot, but the memory of that kiss and the emotions it had stirred in him had frightened him. He didn’t want another romantic involvement, particularly one right in the village of Lochdubh.
He parked the police Land Rover and got out. The rain was being driven horizontally across the loch on the screaming wind. There was a slim figure huddled in the shelter of the kitchen door.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’ve come to confess,” said a female voice.
“Come in.” He opened the kitchen door and switched on the light and turned to look at his visitor. At first he did not recognise her, and then with a start he realised his visitor was Jessie Briggs.
Her hair was cut in a short crop and was a natural glossy brown. She was dressed in a smart tweed suit under a cream raincoat.
“Take your coat off and sit down,” said Hamish. “Confess what? First, do you want some tea?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll put the kettle on. It’s cold in here. I’ll just light the stove.”
He took the lid off the stove and raked down the ashes. He threw in firelighter and sticks and, when they were blazing, added several slices of peat. He put the kettle on the stove and sat down at the kitchen table opposite her.
“All right. I’m ready. What’s up?”
“Thon video,” said Jessie in a shaky voice. “That was me.”
“Och, Jessie. Neffer tell me you had a part in those dreadful murders.”
“No, only that Miss McAndrew called on me right after Miss Beattie was murdered. She seemed upset. She gave me the video and said it was to be delivered to the community centre. I asked her why she didn’t take it there herself and she said something about she didn’t like Blakey but wanted people to help the elderly. When she’d gone, I left it lying. I was drunk pretty much the whole time. I remembered it after she was found murdered and that prompted me into doing what she’d asked. I took it round and put it through the letter box. Then when I learned what had been in the tape, I decided to say nothing about it in case the police thought I had anything to do with the murders.”
“She must have been frightened,” said Hamish. “She must have hoped that the video would have given us some clue, or maybe she did it to warn the Robertses that she was not to be intimidated. So what prompted you to come to me now?”
“I’ve been going to the AA meetings and at last I told them about the tape. They said I’d better tell you and I’d feel better. Are you going to charge me?”
“No. My boss would probably curse and shout and charge you with obstructing the police in their enquiries, and it’s such a delight to see you off the booze, I wouldnae want to do anything that would put you back on it. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. I’ve got a part-time job.”
“Where?”
“At the gift shop in Braikie. Someone at the meeting’s got three little children and she said she would look after my baby in the afternoons.”
The kettle boiled and Hamish rose and made a pot of tea. “How’s Penny?” asked Jessie, sipping at her tea and refusing Hamish’s offer of shortbread.
“Last heard, she’s staying with her aunt over in Lochinver.”
“She must be an emotional wreck.”
“I wouldnae say that. Did you read her story in the
“No, I missed that.”
