came back to the living room and raked the dead ashes out of the fire, put on paper and kindling and logs, and struck a match. She went into the kitchen and came back with a cup of kerosene and threw the contents on the fire. It exploded into flames with a roar. “I never could be bothered waiting for the things to light,” she said. She poured Hamish a stiff brandy. “Get that down you. I know it’s not the thing to give people in shock, but I think you’re exhausted and need a bracer.”
“I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never cried before.”
“Tell me what happened.”
So Hamish told her the story, ending up by saying, “I thought I’d lost Elspeth.”
“Maybe you should marry her, Hamish.”
“She’s changed. She’s all citified. She’d never fit in here now.”
“You won’t know until you ask her.”
“Maybe.”
Dr. Brodie came in. “I put a splint on the beast. I’ll take it to the vet in the morning, and he’ll put it in plaster. Why didn’t you wake him?”
“Because both you and Angela love cats,” said Hamish.
“And what are you going to do with this one when it’s recovered? A wild cat will never make a house pet. And it would probably kill Lugs.”
“If the vet can mend it, I’ll take it up on the moors and get rid of it. Now I’m going home.”
¦
Wearily Hamish showered and put on his pyjamas. He climbed into bed, and Lugs climbed in after him and stretched out at his feet.
He plunged down into vivid dreams of fire and smoke and murder.
¦
In the morning Hamish called headquarters and said he was taking the whole weekend off unless there was any major crime he had to cover. The snow was sparkling under a pale sun as he walked Lugs along the waterfront. He called on Angela and was told that Dr. Brodie was at the vet’s with the cat. Hamish made his way there.
The vet, Hugh Liddesdale, was not pleased to see him. “Brodie’s just left. A wild cat, Hamish! A
“Can I see it?”
“Come along.” Hugh, a small fussy man who thought all cats were an indulgence and only favoured working animals like sheepdogs, led him through to a line of cages. The wild cat was sleeping.
“I got it to take some food. It’s a splendid beast, I’ll grant you that.”
“Are there any pure wild cats left in the Highlands?”
“I think they’ve all been mongrelised over the centuries. But this one’s still a big creature.”
The cat was larger than a household one, with a big proud head, tabby markings, and a bushy tail with two black rings at the tip.
“Do you think it’ll make it?”
“The break was clean and recent.”
“How did it get starved, then?”
“Well, it’s a mystery for you to solve. The only thing I can think of is that someone caught this and kept it and ill-treated it. I wouldn’t advise you to keep it.”
“No, I wouldn’t do that to Lugs. When it’s healed, I’ll let it loose on the moors.”
“This is going to cost you, Hamish.”
Hamish sighed, thinking of the dinner bill at the Tommel Castle Hotel.
Hugh threw him a sympathetic look. “I tell you what. When you get my bill, just pay it off weekly.”
“Thanks, Hugh.”
“Of course, a nice wild salmon would defray the cost.” Everyone in Lochdubh knew that Hamish occasionally poached salmon.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Lugs sat silently at Hamish’s feet, staring curiously at the cat. Hamish was amazed that the dog neither bristled nor barked.
“Aye, well, I’ll leave you to it,” said the vet.
Hamish went back to the police station but found he could not enjoy the peace and quiet. The thought of that computer up in the loft was haunting him. The telephone rang. He reluctantly answered it.
It was Elspeth. “Hamish, I’m leaving this afternoon. We should talk.”
“Come here in an hour’s time,” said Hamish.
He climbed up to the loft and collected the computer. “It’s a cold day, Lugs, but we’re going for a row in a boat.” Lugs wagged his tail almost as if he knew what Hamish was saying. Lugs loved going out on the loch.
Hamish put the computer in a plastic shopping bag and walked along to the pub with Lugs. He found Archie Maclean propping up the bar. The little fisherman was dressed in his usual tight clothes. His wife was a fanatical housekeeper and boiled all the clothes in a copper so that everything that Archie wore had shrunk.
“Can I take your rowboat out, Archie?”
“It’s a right cold day, Hamish. Won’t be much good for the fishing.”
“I feel like getting a bit of exercise and there’s nothing like a good row.”
“Help yourself. You know where it is.”
Hamish went down to the beach to where the boat was tied up at the foot of stone steps leading down from the harbour. He lifted Lugs in, settled himself, and picked up the oars.
He rowed and rowed to the middle of the loch, feeling all the tension leaving his body. He would talk to Elspeth and see what they could work out.
When he judged he was far enough out, he slipped the bag with the computer over the side and watched it spiral down into the icy waters of the sea loch.
Then he glanced at his watch. He had better row back fast or he would miss Elspeth.
He was just nearing the shore when he saw, to his horror, Heather Meikle standing outside the police station clutching a bottle. He rowed quickly round the far side of the harbour until he was out of sight.
¦
“What are you doing here?” Elspeth asked Heather.
“I’m waiting for Hamish. We have a lot to talk about. Where is he?”
“He may have been called to Strathbane.”
“His Land Rover’s still here. I’ll wait.”
“I have an appointment with him,” said Elspeth.
Heather glared. “Well, as his superior officer, I think my visit comes first.”
Matthew drove up and honked the horn. “Are you coming, Elspeth? We’d better get on the road.”
Elspeth gave a little shrug and joined Matthew in the car.
“No sign of lover boy?” asked Matthew.
“Shut up and drive. You’ve got my case in the back, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
They drove a little way in silence. Elspeth twisted her head and watched Lochdubh disappearing behind her.
“You know, Matthew,” she said, “I’ve been thinking of asking Sam for my old job back.”
“God, you should have told me!”
“Why?”
“Freda and I are going to be married, and I asked Sam for a job and he’s given me one.”
“Matthew. He can’t take on both of us.”
“Look at it this way: I’m getting married and you aren’t.”
“No, I’m not,” said Elspeth in a small sad voice.
¦
Hamish finally tied the rowboat up at other steps on the far side of the harbour. He carried Lugs up and made his way to the pub. Archie was sitting at a table in the corner, playing dominoes.
“Archie, another favour,” said Hamish. “Detective Chief Inspector Heather Meikle is outside the police station.
