“Yes. A friend introduced us and begged me to look at his work. I did. I saw it was marketable. People are turning away from abstracts. I arranged an exhibition for him, and he did very well indeed. He’s not top of the market yet, but if you want a Jock Fleming landscape, it’ll set you back ten thousand pounds. He’s a coming lad.”
“What did you think about his marriage?”
“I was a bit surprised. I thought her a coarse little thing. But he was so happy about the baby coming, and he was working harder than ever. Besides, it’s not my job to interfere in the personal life of my artists.”
“And yet you came all the way up here to be with him?”
“I needed a holiday, and I wanted to protect my investment. Jock was my first big success.”
The interview went on. Betty answered all Robins questions simply and directly.
After Robin had finished, Hamish said, “I’d like a word with Betty alone, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll wait for you outside,” said Robin.
“It’s like this, Betty,” said Hamish awkwardly. “Now that this is an official murder case, I can’t afford to socialise with you until the murderer is found. I’m right grateful to you for looking after the animals, but you see how it is.”
She gave him a warm smile. “Don’t worry, Hamish. Catch your murderer, and we’ll have a party to celebrate.”
¦
Hamish joined Robin outside. “Before we leave here, we should have a word with the maid, Bessie Jamieson.”
“Why?”
“I caught her in bed with Jock. Maybe he said something useful to her.”
Back in the hotel, Mr. Johnson summoned Bessie. “You can use my office,” he said. “Don’t be too long about it. Bessie’s got work to do. A lot of the guests have left, but they’ve been replaced by the gentlemen of the press.”
“Sit down, Bessie,” said Hamish. She was a plump girl with shiny brown hair and rosy cheeks. “Now, you went to bed with Jock Fleming.”
“It was just a wee bit o’ fun, Hamish.”
“I’m sure it was. Did he say anything to you that might have a bearing on the death of Effie Garrard?”
“Let me see. He’d ordered a bottle of whisky, and I took it up to him. He asked me to join him. We got drinking and talking. He said he’d like to paint me. He said Effie had been chasing him and she’d been a pain in the neck, but that was all. We got a wee bit drunk and he started kissing me and afore I knew it, we were in bed.”
“And has he spoken to you since?”
“He said it wouldn’t be a good idea, what with his wife being up here. I said okay, cos I’ve got a boyfriend down in Inverness. Och, it didnae mean anything.”
“And he didn’t say anything else about that American or Effie?”
“Not that I can bring to mind.”
“If you think of anything, Bessie, phone me right away.”
“Are there really women like that?” asked Robin after Bessie had left.
“Like what?”
“I mean, just hop into bed with a man and forget it next day?”
“Don’t ask me,” said Hamish. “They havenae exactly come my way. Who do you want to interview next?”
“I’d like something to eat first.”
“Let’s go to the police station,” said Hamish. “I’ve got a couple of trout in the freezer.”
“Okay. Then I’d like to interview the biggest gossip in the village.”
“Hard to tell. When it comes to gossip, they’re all on an equal footing. Maybe, though, the Currie sisters have the edge.”
¦
After lunch, Hamish led Robin to the Currie sisters’ cottage. He was not looking forward to the interview, knowing that both sisters regarded him as a sort of Lothario.
Strangely enough, Nessie was alone. Hamish could hardly remember a time when he had found the twin sisters separated from each other.
“Jessie’s gone up to the church to do the flowers,” said Nessie, her already wrinkled face creasing in disapproval. “I don’t hold with flowers in church. It smacks of popery. What do you want?”
“Detective Mackenzie here would like to ask you a few questions.”
“Don’t be long. I’m right tired of answering questions. I suppose you’ll be wanting tea, Macbeth.”
“No, thank you. We’ve just eaten.”
“He’s just saying that because you’re here,” said Nessie to Robin. “Hamish Macbeth is the biggest moocher for miles around. Sit down. I won’t be long.”
They both sat down in the neat little living room. The windows were open, allowing a gentle breeze scented with pine into the room. The only good thing about taking tea with the Curries, thought Hamish, was that it was served on the round table by the window and not on a coffee table. He was very tall and disliked bending double over low coffee tables to take tea.
Nessie came back with a tray laden with tea and scones. “Help yourself,” she said. They gathered around the table.
“Eat something first,” Nessie ordered Robin. “You’ve got to keep your strength up. A young lassie like you should be getting married and having bairns.”
The scones were feather light and generously filled with butter and strawberry jam. Robin dutifully ate one, took a sip of tea, and said, “I know you’ve been asked this question before, but I thought that perhaps you might have remembered something new. Did you see anyone on the waterfront the night Mr. Addenfest was killed?”
“We mind our own business, me and Jessie.”
“I am sure you do. But you are such a sharp-eyed and intelligent woman that I was sure you might have noticed something that nobody else would think important.”
Hamish was amused to notice the struggle between vanity and ignorance on Nessies face. Nessie was obviously delighted with the compliment and didn’t want to let Robin down. I hope she doesn’t make anything up, thought Hamish.
“Let me see, we go to bed at ten o’clock, and the bedroom’s at the back. I got up about midnight to go to the, er, you know what. I took a wee keek out of the window there. I thought I heard a cry, but, och, it was probably a seagull.”
“Nothing else?” asked Robin.
She shook her grey head.
“What about your sister? Did she see or hear anything?”
“No, Jessies a heavy sleeper.”
They thanked her and left. They were just walking away when Nessie called, “Detective Mackenzie!”
Robin hurried back. Nessie seized her arm and said in a fierce whisper, “You be careful of Macbeth. He’s a devil with the women.”
“What was that all about?” asked Hamish.
“A warning,” said Robin. “She said you were a devil with the women.”
Hamish sighed. “If only that were true. Let’s go to the newspaper office and see if Matthew Campbell has found anything.”
¦
Elspeth was sitting at Matthews desk. “Where’s Matthew?” asked Hamish.
“Probably up at the hotel bar drinking with the other journalists.”
“I am Detective Mackenzie,” said Robin.
“Sorry,” said Hamish. “Robin, this is Elspeth Grant, who used to work up here. She now works for the
“Not much. All the interesting characters at the hotel have been interviewed so many times they don’t want to talk to me. I’m going out to talk to people in the village. You know, they'll talk to me where they might not talk to
