They waited. There was a sound of squeaking wheels. Matthew opened the door a crack.
A hospital porter was trundling a laundry basket on wheels. He went into a door at the end of a long corridor. Matthew waited. The man reappeared and walked down past where they were hidden.
When he had gone, Matthew said, “I know where the laundry is. Come on.”
They hurried along to the laundry room. “The stuff’ll be dirty,” complained Elspeth.
“Then we’ll pick out the least dirty ones.”
¦
Freda sat by Hamish’s bed and held his hand. “Are you sure you feel all right?”
“I’d feel better if someone from police headquarters would arrive and tell me why that computer was never checked.”
The door opened and two masked figures entered. One said to Freda, “You’ll need to leave, miss. We have to take Mr. Macbeth to the operating theatre.”
“What’s this?” cried Hamish in alarm. “No one said anything to me about needing an operation.”
The smaller of the ‘surgeons’ held open the door and said pointedly to Freda, “If you don’t mind, miss.”
When Freda had gone, Elspeth jerked down her mask and said, “Surprise!”
“What the hell are you two doing?” exclaimed Hamish. “Trying to give me a heart attack?”
“We checked Harry Tarrant’s alibi,” said Elspeth. “It checks out. Tell us what happened to you.”
“I was looking at John Heppel’s computer. It had been wiped clean, but I wondered why it had been left behind. Surely some computer expert could have recovered stuff from the hard drive. Then someone hit me on the head.”
“And the computer was gone?”
“That was the reason for hitting me on the head,” said Hamish impatiently.
The door opened and Jimmy Anderson walked in. Matthew and Elspeth jerked up their masks and walked out.
“Press?” asked Jimmy, staring after them.
“Yes.”
“Oldest trick in the book. You don’t need surgery, and yet here are two masked surgeons in dirty robes in your room. I hope they catch something awful. Who were they?”
“Couple of reporters from the
“Ah, your ex-squeeze.”
“Never mind her. Tell me, Jimmy, why that computer was left there.”
“Well, the cops are blaming the forensic team, and the forensic team are blaming the cops. I think it was because it was a black laptop on a black desk. They didn’t notice it. Daviot is blaming Blair, and Blair is blaming everyone he can think of. They’re getting on to the server to see if they can retrieve anything that might have been in the e–mails.”
Hamish leaned his bandaged head back on the pillows. “You know the trouble? We’re dealing here with a rank amateur who killed in a fit of spite and rage and then tried to cover it up. I wish the villagers had never attacked John Heppel and been filmed for television doing it. It’s taken the whole focus away from Strathbane Television. At least the press have their uses. Harry Tarrant was nowhere near Cnothan on the night of the murder. Oh, the magic of television. No one asked him where he was on the night of the murder.”
“Don’t be so high and mighty. We didn’t ask him either.”
“I would like to see a copy of that script for
“Why?”
“There might be something in there. I don’t know.”
“When are they letting you out?”
“Tomorrow, I hope.”
“For the sake o’ decency, you should stay in longer. There’s half the village waiting to visit you and they’re all carrying gifts.”
“No, the sooner I get out of here, the better. My dog! Who’s looking after my dog?”
“Your dog’s waiting like everyone else. Angela Brodie’s looking after him.”
¦
By the time the last of the villagers had gone, Hamish felt quite weak and weepy. Their kindness was overwhelming. The room was crowded with presents of cake, jam, flowers, chocolates, and even two trout.
He decided that the best thing he could do was to find out where they were filming the next episode of
The phone beside Hamish’s bed rang, jerking him out of his worried thoughts.
Jimmy Anderson’s voice came on the line. “Worse and worse, Hamish. Blair’s been suspended, pending an enquiry.”
“But that’s good news.”
“He’s been suspended because Miss Alice Patty has committed suicide by slashing her wrists. She left a note blaming police brutality. Patty’s lawyer said that by the time she got in to see her at police headquarters, Blair’s bullying had reduced the girl to a nervous wreck.”
“So are you in charge?”
“No. They’ve brought in a detective chief inspector from Inverness, Heather Meikle.”
“What’s she like?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow. She arrives tomorrow.”
¦
The next day Freda drove to the hospital as soon as school classes were over. Hamish had phoned her and asked for a lift to the police station. He had said he was checking himself out of the hospital.
She wondered whether she should have done something like make him beef tea. Freda decided to urge him to go to bed and then she would minister to him. As she drove off, she noticed several Strathbane Television vans parked on the waterfront. She hoped nothing else horrible had happened.
When she arrived in Hamish’s room at the hospital, it was to find him dressed and sitting waiting for her. His bandages had been removed, but part of his fiery-red hair had been shaved off and a sticking plaster put over the wound.
As she drove off with him in the direction of Lochdubh, Freda said, “I think when we arrive, I should make you something to eat and then you should go straight to bed.”
“No, I’ll be all right. I’m sick of bed. I’ve been in bed for most of the day.”
“I still think you should rest. There are a lot of television vans on the waterfront at Lochdubh.”
“Anything happened?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Any press there?”
“No.”
Hamish’s interest quickened. “Maybe they’re using Lochdubh as a location for that soap. Where’s Elspeth?”
“I don’t know. Running around with that boyfriend of hers.”
“He’s not her boyfriend. He’s just a colleague.”
“That’s not what I heard,” lied Freda.
“You shouldn’t listen to village gossip. They always get it wrong.”
“Are you keen on Elspeth?”
“The only thing I am keen on is getting to the police station and finding out if police headquarters have any idea of who hit me,” said Hamish stiffly.
Freda began to wish she’d arranged some sort of welcome at the police station for him. All the villagers knew where the spare key was kept – in the gutter above the door. She could have placed a bowl of flowers on the kitchen table. She could have lit the stove.
When she drove up to the police station, she noticed the lights were on. “Someone’s there,” she said. “Should
