metallic smell on the wind heralded more snow to come. The seer’s cottage was on top of a hill with a path winding up to the front door. It looked rather like the illustration in a children’s book.
Angus opened the door as Hamish approached. Angus looked more like one of the minor prophets than ever with his long grey hair and long grey beard.
“I knew you would be needing my help,” he said simply. “Come ben.”
His light eyes raked Hamish up and down, looking for the expected present, before he turned away. People usually brought the seer something, a bottle of whisky or a homemade cake. Only Hamish Macbeth did not usually bother.
“Well, Hamish, sit yourself down,” said the seer, swinging the blackened kettle on its chain over the peat fire.
“Now, then,” he went on, a flicker of malice in his eyes, “romance hass come back into the life of our Hamish Macbeth. But I see no hope, no hope at all, laddie.”
“I am not interested in my love life at the moment, Angus,” said Hamish stiffly. “Thon dentist was murdered with a dose of nicotine poison. Now the nicotine could have been extracted from cigarettes or probably cigars in a still. Who’s running a still around Braikie?”
“Aye, we’ll have our tea first. I am a poor man, Hamish, and that farm salmon I get in the supermarket iss not a patch on the wild ones. It seems this age since I’ve had a salmon out of the river.”
“You old moocher,” said Hamish crossly.
“Och, it takes one to know one.”
“All right. I’ll get you a salmon.”
“When?”
“This night. I’ll bring it along tomorrow.”
“Good lad.” Angus swung the now boiling kettle off the fire. He filled a teapot, then two mugs.
“Let me see,” he crooned, settling back in his chair. “You want to know about an illegal still. I would not want the honest to be arrested.”
“Running a still is dishonest and you know it, Angus. Chust tell me who it is and I’ll ask a few questions and if they’re not involved in the murder, I won’t be taking the matter further.” Unless they’re producing stuff that might turn the population blind, thought Hamish.
Angus closed his eyes. “I will chust be consulting the spirit world.”
Hamish suppressed an exclamation of impatience.
“Aye, I see twa men. There’s a wee white house which looks like the Smiley brothers’ croft.”
“Stourie and Pete Smiley?” demanded Hamish sharply.
Angus opened his eyes and gazed at Hamish reproachfully. “You’ve frightened the spirits away.”
“Oh, really, were they illegal spirits?”
“The spirits do not like levity. Och, well, I shouldnae be too hard on you, Hamish. Thon pretty lassie at the Tommel Castle Hotel iss going to cause you the pain and grief.”
“You know what I think,” said Hamish. “I think you forecast doom and gloom and that’s all people remember about your predictions and if you go on forecasting doom and gloom the whole damn time, then some of it iss bound to come true.”
“You’re chust cross because you know you’ve got to keep your promise and get me that salmon.”
Hamish drained his mug and walked to the door. He nodded to the seer, who grinned maliciously at him from his chair by the fire.
“All your predictions are based on gossip, Angus. What have you heard about the girl at Tommel Castle Hotel?”
“I only hear the voices in my head, Hamish, and they tell me she’s not for you.”
Hamish made an exclamation of disgust and strode out and walked down the hill. Forget Sarah. He had what he wanted. An illegal still at Braikie. Now if he told Blair, the equivalent of a SWAT team would descend on the Smiley brothers and take their croft apart. But they would arrive with such noise and fuss that before they even got there, the Highland tom-toms would have been beating and by the time they arrived, there would be no trace of a still.
He was also anxious to confront Maggie Bane, but he had heard she was back at police headquarters.
He walked back to the police station to collect the Land Rover.
Jimmy Anderson was lounging outside.
“How are the investigations going, Hamish?”
“As well as a local policeman can investigate while being kept in the dark about everything.”
“Well, there’s a fuss at Strathbane. Last night some hacker broke into the police computer records.”
“And why aren’t you somewhere looking for the hacker?”
Jimmy grinned evilly.
He put an arm around Hamish’s shoulders. “Shall we be having a wee look inside? Yes, I’m looking for the hacker. Why do you think I’m here?”
? Death of a Dentist ?
5
It requires a surgical operation to get a joke well into a Scotch understanding.
—
Hamish’s mind worked furiously. How could they have found out? If only he knew more about computers other than the basic word processing necessary for filing reports.
“Can I use your toilet afore I take ye apart?” said Jimmy.
“Aye, go ahead, the bathroom’s through there.”
Jimmy went into the bathroom, Hamish ran into the police office, seized up the pile of printouts and stuffed them up under his dark blue uniform sweater. The phone rang.
“Hamish?” said Sarah’s voice.
The flush went in the bathroom.
“Sarah,” said Hamish urgently. “They’ve found out they’ve been hacked into and suspect me.”
“They can’t know exactly.”
“Why? How? What do I do?”
“Stick to your guns and look innocent.”
Jimmy walked into the police office.
“I will be looking into that matter right away, madam,” said Hamish.
“Call me later,” Sarah said and hung up.
Hamish turned to face Jimmy. “I’m flattered you think I should have enough expertise to hack into any computer.”
“You’re a clever bastard, Hamish. Someone hacked into Blair’s records during the night and it wisnae Blair.”
“Look around for a computer buff, Jimmy, but don’t come bothering me. Blair’s off his trolley. You know what he’s like. One sniff of trouble and he decides it must be coming from me.”
Jimmy sat down behind the desk and opened the bottom drawer. “Where’s the whisky?”
“I don’t think I should tell you,” said Hamish crossly. “You chust go back and tell Blair to spend his time looking for criminals instead of bothering innocent policemen.”
“Don’t be so sour. It was a way of getting away from the big grump.”
“All right. You can have a dram and then off with you.”
Hamish went through to the kitchen and found a bottle in the cupboard with the groceries. He collected a glass and then walked back through to join Jimmy.
“Great, man, pour it out.”
“You’ll be getting as much o’ a problem wi’ the booze as Blair,” commented Hamish, pouring a measure of whisky into the glass.
