screaming that Peter would be killed.
Jock moved in, his great fists swinging. Peter dodged every blow, moving like lightning, while Jock lumbered around, swinging punches. Then Peter’s foot shot out in a karate kick and the kick landed fairly and squarely and with great force on Jock Kennedy’s balls. He let out a groan and rolled over, retching, on the ground.
“You asked for it,” said Peter lightly, and surrounded by a coterie of admiring and excited women, he went back into the dance-hall.
Heather Baxter moved slowly out of the shadows, her little face white. Her best party dress fluttering in the pate light, she moved away from the community hall in the direction of home, as light and silent as a moth, her feet making no sound on the grass.
? Death of a Charming Man ?
4
He speaks the kindest words, and looks such things,
Vows with so much passion, swears with so much grace,
That ‘tis a kind of Heaven to be deluded by him.
—Nathaniel Lee
Priscilla received a phone call from Susan Daviot right after she had learned that Hamish Macbeth had been seen having dinner with Sophy the night before.
“It’s quait near Craigallen,” fluted Mrs. Daviot. “Ever so naice and a reel snip, Priscilla. I have the aid conference today at the town hall, but if you and Hamish would like to see it, ai’ll give you the instructions.”
Priscilla took them down. She had no intention of doing anything about seeing another house. Why irritate Hamish further? But when she replaced the receiver her father came into the office and stood watching her, rocking a little on his heels. “How did you get on at the Frasers’ last night?” he asked.
“Fine,” said Priscilla. “Pleasant evening.”
“Was John Fraser there?”
“Yes, he was home for a few days.”
“Now that’s a fellow you should be thinking about. Successful stockbroker. When I think that my only daughter should be even contemplating throwing herself away on a layabout of a Highlander – ”
“That’s enough,” said Priscilla sharply. “Who solved all those cases which baffled Strathbane? Who…?”
“And who is such a lazy poacher that he refuses promotion?”
“Hamish will be a chief superintendent one of these days.”
“Rubbish!”
Priscilla picked up her notes and made for the door. “Stop criticizing Hamish, Pa, it doesn’t have the slightest effect on me.” But it did. Somehow, she found herself driving to the police station, more determined than ever to shake Hamish out of this village and into success.
Hamish was feeding his hens. His face lit up with all the old gladness when he saw her, and then a shuttered look came over his eyes when they fell on the notes in her hand. “You’ve found another house,” he said.
“Look, it wouldn’t do any harm to look at it, Hamish. Enjoy your dinner last night?”
“Aye, it was grand.”
“As your fiancee, I feel I should ask you your intentions towards Sophy Bisset.”
“My intentions are about evening the score. She asked me out, not the other way round, and since you had gone off to Inverness without even phoning…”
“I did phone, but you weren’t back. What did you find foot?”
“It seems the owner of Craigallen is a wife-beater.”
“And you know that for a fact?”
“Not exactly.”
Priscilla sighed. “Let’s just look at this house, Hamish. We want somewhere decent to bring up our children.”
His eyes gleamed with malice. “Aye, children would be fine. Know anything about how to go about getting some, Priscilla?”
“Hamish! Are you coming to see this house or not?”
“On one condition; we call in at Drim on the road back.”
“Why?”
“Jock Kennedy’s running an illegal pub at the back of his shop. Now I know about it, I’ve got to put a stop to it.”
“All right.”
“I’ll drive, as we’re going on police business sometime today. Down, Towser,” for Towser was standing on his hind legs with his muddy paws on Priaicilla’s skirt.
“He doesn’t bother me,” said Priscilla. “We’ll take him with us.”
Hamish felt weak at the knees. It was the occasional contrast between Priscilla’s cool beauty and her lack of concern at being pawed by the smelly and doting Towser that made him fall in love with her all over again. He pushed Towser aside and pulled her into his arms, but she said, “Your neighbour’s watching us.” He felt his spirits plunge again. He could not have given a damn at that moment who was watching them.
He wished with all his heart that Priscilla would lose her reserve. He had a sudden vivid memory of Willie Lamont when he was engaged to Lucia, hugging and kissing her and then noticing a group of grinning villagers. He had said something to the beautiful Lucia and she had laughed and put an arm about his waist and, with her head on his shoulder, they had gone into the restaurant. He began to become very angry indeed with Priscilla. He deserved someone a bit warmer and less managing. Priscilla sensed his change of mood as she climbed into the Land Rover. She had an impulse to put her hand on his arm, to say, “Let’s forget it,” but she remembered her father’s angry and contemptuous face and remained silent.
As they were approaching Craigallen, Priscilla said, “Care for another look, Hamish?”
He shook his head, but as they were driving slowly past, he saw Mrs. Hendry in the garden and slowed to a stop. “Well, maybe, just a quick look around the outside.”
As soon as Priscilla saw Mrs. Hendry, she realized the reason for Hamish’s odd enthusiasm to see a house he loathed; She wanted to tell him to forget it, but Mrs. Hendry was already rising to her feet from weeding a flower- bed. “How nice to see you again,” she said to Hamish. “Come into the house. I was just about to make a cup of tea.”
Priscilla opened her mouth to protest but Hamish had leaped forward. “I would chust love the cup of tea,” he chattered, following Mrs. Hendry into the house and not even looking round to see if Priscilla was following them.
“I was upset at the state of the garden,” said Mrs. Hendry. “You can’t get good workers these days. Is there any hope you will buy the house?” She gave an awkward little laugh.
“My husband thinks it’s all my fault that we can’t sell the place, but there you are, that’s men for you. Always need someone to blame.”
“Isn’t that the case?” agreed Hamish, avoiding Priscilla’s eye. “Why, the number o’ cases of wife-beating I’ve seen because the man has to take any bad luck out on the woman.”
“Really, Mr. Macbeth,” said Mrs. Hendry. “I hope you are not suggesting my husband beats me!”
Hamish raised his hands in horror. “Did I say such a thing? Och, no, it’s just that I am a policeman, Mrs. Hendry.”
“Really?” She fiddled noisily with the cups.
“And the hell some women put up with, you chust wouldna’ believe. And when I’ve said to them, “Take the man to court,” they chust look at me blankly and say, “He’s done nothing wrong. Besides, I’ve got the children.” And there are the children growing up warped and miserable.”
Mrs. Hendry dropped the kettle. Boiling water spilled all over the kitchen floor.
Priscilla took a cloth from the draining-board. “No, leave it,” said Mrs. Hendry shrilly. “Leave it! I have not been sleeping well lately and my nerves are bad. I am sorry. But you had better go.”
“Come along, Hamish,” said Priscilla. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you clear up this mess, Mrs.
