He sat down heavily opposite Miss Gunnery. “How did it go?” she asked anxiously.
“They know you were lying about being with me that afternoon,” said Hamish.
“How?”
“I told them,” said Hamish, too weary to explain how one policewoman had betrayed them. “It doesn’t do any good to lie. I’m grateful to you, but there wass no need for you to put your reputation on the line for me. You can’t cover up things in a murder case.”
“But surely the police are stupid sometimes. Deacon did not strike me as a particularly intelligent man.”
“He’s hardly an academic, but I know the kind, solid and plodding, and they get there in the end.”
Miss Gunnery glanced over at Doris. “I hope Doris is all right. She’s looking awfully strained.”
“She’ll still be suffering from shock,” said Hamish. “Oh, God, what’s this?”
He poked his fork at the mess on his plate. It was some sort of beef covered in an ersatz brown gravy. But it smelt bad. It smelt rank. Hamish looked around the dining room. He raised his voice. “Have any of you eaten any of this?”
“Just a little,” said Dermott gloomily. “That’s all I could manage.”
Mr Rogers came into the dining room with his usual glazed smile. “You can take our plates away,” said Hamish wrathfully. “This meat is bad. Where do you get it from?”
“From the butcher’s in Skag.”
“There isn’t a butcher’s in Skag.”
“I mean Dungarton.”
“Look here, Mr Rogers,” said Hamish. “Enough is enough. Take this muck away and produce something edible or I’ll report you to the tourist board and the health authorities.”
Rogers flashed Hamish a look of pure hatred, but he called his wife and together, in sulky silence, they took the plates away.
“Why did the police want to see you again, Hamish?” said Andrew.
“They weren’t satisfied with my earlier statement,” said Hamish. “I’m afraid we’re all going to be questioned over and over again.”
“I cannae take ony mair,” wailed Cheryl. “It’s like the Gestapo.”
“It’s murder,” said Hamish flatly. “We’re all in trouble until the murderer is found. I wonder where Rogers gets this filth he’s been giving us.”
A bell sounded from the hall outside. Rogers appeared, looking flushed and bad-tempered. He went into the hall and soon reappeared. “Someone to see you, Macbeth,” he announced.
“Mr Macbeth to you.” Hamish got up and went out to the hall. His face grew hard when he saw Maggie Donald standing there. “What do you want?”
“Look, Hamish, I’ve come to apologize. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Who else could haff told them the truth about Miss Gunnery?”
“It was the barman at the pub, Fred Allsopp. After we’d left, Clay came in for a drink and he told him I had been in and he described you. So Clay came back to the station and grilled me and said I was ‘consorting with a prime suspect’ and my job was on the line, and I panicked.”
“I still don’t see that’s any excuse.” Hamish looked every bit as huffy as he felt.
“You don’t know what it’s like, being a woman.” Maggie looked at him pleadingly. “The cards are stacked against you. Unless I play up to them, I’ll be carrying trays of tea and doing traffic duty at Highland games for the rest of my career.” She smiled up at him tentatively and Hamish relented.
“All right then,” he said. “I could do wi’ someone who’s not involved to discuss the case with.”
“Have you eaten?” asked Maggie.
“Not yet. Rogers produced some filth which I sent back. I’m waiting for the replacement.”
“I’ve got my car. As a peace offering, I’ll take you to Dungarton for dinner.”
“Right, you’re on. I’ll get Miss Gunnery to look after Towser.”
When he returned to the dining room, they were all still waiting to be served. He told Miss Gunnery that he was going out to dinner with a policewoman and could she please take care of Towser. For a moment she looked sad and he felt obscurely guilty. “Am I going to be arrested for lying?” she asked.
“No, as far as I know, nothing’s going to happen to you,” said Hamish.
“You’ve joined them,” she said. “You’re not one of us any more.”
“It’s my job.” Hamish looked down at her ruefully. Maggie came into the dining room. “A car has arrived to take Mrs Harris to the police station.”
Doris stood up. “Isn’t she even going to be allowed to eat?” demanded Andrew angrily. “I’m coming with you, Doris.”
They went out together.
“When you’re ready, Hamish,” said Maggie.
“So that’s your policewoman,” said Miss Gunnery, looking older and shrivelled somehow. She said half to herself, “Sometimes I forget my age.”
Hamish, sad and somehow still feeling guilty, was glad to get away from the atmosphere of the dining room and its smells of bad food.
“I feel like a traitor,” he said as he and Maggie walked out together.
“All part of being in the police force,” said Maggie cheerfully. She was pleased. Deacon had told her that as Hamish Macbeth obviously fancied her – having jumped to the idea that the only interest Hamish could have in the young policewoman was carnal – she should stick close to him because, “Macbeth is going to find out what he can for us, but I don’t want him hiding any evidence.”
Maggie drove competently along the road to Dungarton. White sand whirled and danced in the sidelights. It never got dark enough on these northern summer evenings to put the full lights on. “I’ll be glad when this is over,” said Maggie. “I’m beginning to feel I’m getting sand-blasted. The wretched stuff gets everywhere as well. What on earth brought you to a place like Skag for a holiday, Hamish?”
“I wanted a break,” said Hamish. “It looked a pretty place in a magazine someone gave me. And it was cheap. You know a policeman’s pay doesn’t go very far. I feel now I should ha’ been more adventurous, gone to a bucket-shop travel agency and risked one of those Spanish holidays and hoped they’d got around to building the hotel before I got there.”
“I went on one of those last year,” said Maggie. “It was very good, and at least you know you’ve got a chance of fine weather. Mind you, it seemed odd to be all the way down in the south of Spain and surrounded by British. I don’t think I met any Spanish apart from the staff at the hotel.”
“To get back to the case,” said Hamish, “why are they pulling Doris in again?”
“Did you tell them about her going towards Skag when she said she went the other way?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s no doubt why they want to see her. But little Heather swears she saw Doris where she said she was.”
“In order to see Doris,” said Hamish slowly, “she would need to have wandered away from her parents – sorry, you’ll find out if you don’t know already that Dermott and June aren’t married – but they both seem devoted to the children and I can’t see either of them letting young Heather wander off by herself.”
“I heard about Dermott. They’re checking into his background. Has his name appeared in the press yet?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t see all the newspapers. It’s a shame,” he added. “I can’t help hoping it works out all right for them.”
“It won’t work out all right if he’s guilty of bumping off Harris to shut his mouth.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence until she pulled up outside an Indian restaurant in Dungarton. “I hope you like curry,” said Maggie as they walked up the restaurant steps together.
“Anything’s going to taste marvellous after the cooking at The Friendly House.”
As they ate, Hamish looked about the crowded restaurant. He never ceased to marvel at these Asians who came all the way to the north of Scotland to start a business, so very far from home. And thank God for that, he thought, as he ate his way steadily through a delicious lamb curry.
“I’d like to find out where Rogers gets his supplies from,” he said as he finally pushed his empty plate away.
