“You could have been caught lighting that fuse,” said Hamish.
“Not me. The Lord was with me that day.”
“But Ina? Why Ina?”
A tear ran down one of her cheeks and she brushed it angrily away. “She was my best friend. We were always agreed on everything. Keep the men in their place and if they won’t stay there, give them a good whack. I thought she’d be pleased but she said it was on her conscience and she felt she ought to tell the police. The Lord was watching over me again and he sent down a fog to cover me when I darted into Patel’s and killed her.”
“And Ellie Macpherson?”
“I couldn’t take a chance. She had to be silenced. The Lord told me she had to be silenced.”
“And Fiona McNulty?”
“That hoor. I made Colin tell me about her. He said Fergus had been seeing her. My Ina’s husband betraying her by going to a hoor?”
Jimmy Anderson came in flanked by Harry MacNab and a policewoman.
“I have her confessions on tape,” said Hamish wearily. “You’ll find Clarry has excellent shorthand notes as well. Take her away and interview her yourself, Jimmy.”
Hamish found Colin Framont in the hall. He turned his head away as Tilly was taken past him.
“You as well,” said Jimmy, taking Colin’s arm. “Hamish, file a full report.”
Colin was led out protesting that he knew nothing about it.
Hamish went back to where Priscilla was looking blankly at the stairs. “Where’s Elspeth?”
“She and Perry have gone to file a story. Want a drink?”
“Just the one. I never asked where Blair was.”
They went into the bar. Hamish was miserable because the murderer had turned out to be one of the villagers. Priscilla was miserable because Perry and Elspeth seemed to be close.
They ordered whiskies and sat in silence for a while. Then Priscilla said, “You should have gone with them. You solved the case.”
“The old, old reason, Priscilla. Too much focus on me means a promotion and promotion means moving to Strathbane.”
“I can hardly believe it,” said Priscilla. “I worked with Tilly from time to time on visits up here when there was a crofters’ fair or something like that.”
“She beat her husband.” Hamish took a swallow of his whisky. “Fergus’s wife beat him, too, and I’m supposed to know everything that goes on in the village. I wonder what other bit of misery is going on behind closed doors that I don’t know about. You seem pretty low. Get a fright?”
“Yes, something like that.”
¦
When Hamish got back to the police station, he typed out a report and sent it over to Strathbane. Then he took the dog and cat out for a walk through the snow on the waterfront. The loch was glassy black. The air was still and crisp and cold. Bright stars shone down overhead. A television set in one of the cottages was playing a comedy, and the sound of canned laughter made Hamish feel as if the old gods were laughing at him for being such a blind fool.
What was it Archie had said? “We don’t do sex in Lochdubh.”
Poor buggers, thought Hamish. He had a bright picture of Priscilla staring desolately at the stairs when Elspeth and Perry had just gone up to write their story.
“Poor me,” he said out loud.
? Death of a Witch ?
11
– Sir William Alexander, Earl of Stirling
Jimmy called the following morning. “She’s gone completely round the twist, Hamish.”
“Are you sure she’s not just pretending to be mad to get out of a trial?”
“Blair finished her off, in a way. He insisted on doing the questioning while I sat there like a tumshie. Tilly decided he was the devil’s messenger and she quoted the Bible at him nonstop. If you hadn’t got that confession out o’ her, he might have had a job proving her guilty. And would you get this? They dug up the garden and found a computer and a supply o’ chemicals. More than that, our Tilly studied chemistry for a year at Strathbane University before dropping out. Blair’s trying to take the credit but Daviot read your statement. I think he’s going to promote you this time. Give you a policeman to help you.”
“Oh, no!”
“Relax. He’s just putting you up to sergeant. He says this police station, as he remembers it, has two bedrooms.”
“Chust the one.”
“Come on, Hamish. You look shifty. Show it to me.”
“Oh, all right.” Hamish led him into the living room. He pulled back a curtain next to the bookcase, revealing a door. He opened it.
Jimmy looked in. “What on earth…?”
“I chust used it over the years to put away stuff that might come in handy,” said Hamish.
“An old fridge, a broken electric kettle, a lawn mower, and that’s just the stuff that’s blocking the entrance. You’ll need to get a skip and clean the place out.”
“I don’t want a policeman living with me.”
“Settle for it, laddie. It’s either that or Strathbane. I gather they’re going ahead with Catriona’s funeral this afternoon.”
“Yes. There was some fuss about her being buried in consecrated ground, but Rory McBride is having her cremated and taking the ashes away with him. There’s a service in the kirk at three o’clock this afternoon and then what’s left of her body will be taken to the crematorium at Strathbane.”
“Won’t be many there, I suppose.”
“The women will turn up. They’ll say it is their Christian duty but it’s just an excuse to wear a hat and gossip. They fair frighten me now. I feel I don’t really know what they’re like.”
“Better not to. You know, Hamish, the day I discovered I didn’t understand women at all was a great relief. After that, I just learned to take them as they came.”
“Unfortunate choice of words, Jimmy.”
“Got any whisky?”
“The sun isn’t even over the yardarm.”
“This is still winter. The sun has barely the strength to crawl up the sky.”
“Oh, all right. Just the one. How’s Colin taking it?”
“I think he’ll be all right. I took him home late last night. Fergus came round and hugged him and said he’d stay the night.”
“Maybe they’ll be able to help each other get over this.”
¦
Hamish went up to the church in the afternoon. The Currie sisters had put in an appearance along with Mrs. Wellington. Rory McBride was there. Other than that, the church was deserted. Mr. Wellington gave a short sermon, they sang several hymns, and then the undertaker’s men, who had been smoking outside the church, came in and bore off the coffin with the remains of Catriona.
Hamish gave a sigh of relief as the hearse drove off followed by one single car, driven by Rory McBride.
“I hope never to see another person like Catriona as long as I live,” he said.
“He’s talking to himself again,” came the voice of Nessie Currie. “Daft, that’s what he is.”
Hamish made his escape.
¦
