She might be waiting in her car. Could you tell her I’ve gone off to Inverness clubbing with Freda? And your boat’s at the foot of the steps on the far side of the harbour. I didn’t want her to see me.”
“All right, Hamish. Back in a tick.”
Archie made his way to the police station. He went to a car that was parked in front of it and peered into the driver’s side. Heather Meikle had a bottle of whisky and a glass and was just helping herself to another drink. “What is it?” she snapped. “What do you want?”
“Hamish Macbeth has gone off to Inverness to go clubbing with our schoolteacher.”
“Rats!”
Heather drained her glass in one long gulp. She screwed the top onto the bottle and put glass and bottle on the floor. Archie drew back as she drove off.
Then he returned to report to Hamish.
“I hope that’s the last I’ll see of her,” said Hamish. He went to the police station, and although it was only late afternoon, he fell on the bed with his clothes on and plunged back down into sleep.
Just before he had gone to sleep, he vowed to ring Elspeth on her mobile and explain what had happened.
But he did not awake until six o’clock the following morning.
¦
Jimmy Anderson phoned him later in the morning. “Was our Heather over at Lochdubh to see you yesterday?”
“Aye. But I kept out o’ sight.”
“She had a crash.”
“Oh, God. Where?”
“On the Lochdubh-Strathbane road. She found the only tree by the road and crashed right into it. She was as drunk as a skunk.”
“Is she seriously hurt?”
“Not a scratch. But her alcohol intake was so great they pumped her out, and they’re keeping her in Strathbane Hospital for observation.”
“I should maybe have seen her, but, man, I was frightened that that one would eat me alive. Is Paul Gibson fit to be interviewed?”
“No. The psychiatrist says his mind’s gone. We’ve been ferreting into his background. Seems he once worked on a police series, and they had a man there showing the actors how to break in to a car. That must have been how he learned to hot-wire that van. What are you doing now?”
“I’m still off duty, and I plan to eat and sleep.”
Hamish phoned Elspeth on her mobile. It was switched off. He tried her flat in Glasgow and got an answering service. He did not want to leave a message. He would try her later.
He took himself and Lugs along to the Italian restaurant, and he ate a large meal while the waiter, Willie Lamont, led Lugs off to the kitchen to spoil the dog with a large helping of osso bucco.
When he returned to the police station, he checked his messages. There was one from Elspeth. “It was typical of you not to turn up,” she said. “Face up to it. You don’t want to marry me. In fact, I don’t think you want to marry anyone.”
Hamish felt guilty and ashamed because deep down he felt a little surge of relief.
? Death of a Bore ?
Epilogue
—Samuel Johnson
A week after the arrest of Paul Gibson, the vet phoned Hamish. “Come and get your cat. It’s spooking the other animals.”
“Is the plaster off?”
“Of course not. But you’ll need to look after it yourself.”
Hamish decided to take Lugs with him. If the dog saw him taking the cat home, he might not react so badly.
“Can it walk?” he asked Hugh.
“Yes, it can limp around with the plaster on. But you’d better keep her indoors.”
“It’s a she-cat?”
“Yes. What are you going to call it?”
“Nothing at all, since I’m going to let her free as soon as the plaster’s off. How long exactly?”
“Bring her back in three weeks’ time.”
“Three weeks!”
The vet put on a pair of thick gloves before lifting the cat out of the cage. He handed her to Hamish.
Hamish expected her to twist and fight, but she lay supine in his arms.
“She’s still weak,” said the vet. “But look out when she recovers her energy.”
Hamish carried the cat back to the police station. Lugs plodded amiably beside him.
“What’s up with you, Lugs?” demanded Hamish. “I thought you’d be barking your head off.”
At the police station he found two mackerel laid out on a plate on the table with a note from Angela: “For your cat.” The news that Hugh had ordered him to take the cat home must have already gone round the village. Angela had obviously let herself in with the new spare key that Hamish had put in the gutter. Now the computer was gone, he didn’t see any reason to keep visitors locked out.
Hamish put the cat on the floor. He put one of the fish on a plate and set it down beside her.
The cat ate ravenously while Lugs calmly watched. “I don’t understand you,” said Hamish to his dog. “Another animal eating, a cat at that, and you don’t bother! I just can’t make it out.”
Hamish put Lugs on the leash and went along to Patel’s and bought cat litter and a litter tray. When he returned, there was no sign of the cat. He wondered whether she had slipped out after him.
But when he went into his bedroom, the cat was lying asleep, stretched out with her head on the pillow.
Hamish phoned Angela. “Thanks for the fish. I was wondering…”
“No, Hamish. I love my cats, and that beast would eat them.”
“It’s awfy quiet. Just like a house cat.”
“It’s still recovering. No, Hamish. It’s all yours.”
¦
The snow had melted and a soft wind was blowing up the sea loch from the Atlantic when Hamish went to the vet and watched as the plaster was taken off.
“She’ll limp a bit,” said Hugh, “but she should soon get the full strength back in that leg. I’m surprised to see you and Lugs in one piece.”
“I’m surprised, too, Hugh. She’s right quiet.”
“Take my advice and get rid of the thing as soon as possible.” The cat stared at Hamish.
“She iss not a thing,” protested Hamish. “She iss one fine animal.”
“Don’t be daft and get any ideas of keeping her. She belongs in the wild.”
¦
Hamish carried the cat back to the police station despite Hugh’s protests that he ought to be carrying such a dangerous animal in a cat box. He let the cat out in the kitchen and said to Lugs, “It’s the grand day. We’ll just go for a stroll.”
He opened the kitchen door. Lugs went out and the cat slid after him.
“No, you don’t,” said Hamish. “Get back in.” He bent down to lift the cat but she moved away from him. He looked at her curiously, then he began to walk away with Lugs at his heels. The cat followed behind Lugs, and the odd procession made its way along the waterfront.
