won’t chust listen to me like a sensible woman, I’m out of here.”
“Sorry, Hamish, but you do have a bit of a reputation. Go on.”
“It’s like this. I thought that Kylie Fraser might have been having a fling with Gilchrist, the murdered dentist. She phoned me this morning, asking me to call on her in her flat at eleven o’clock this evening because she said she had something to tell me. Now,” Hamish went on, pinning a pious expression on his face, “normally I would ask Strathbane for a policewoman to accompany me, but, och, it bass been my experience that the policewomen in Strathbane would be apt to frighten a girl like Kylie, whereas a woman of good sense like yourself, and the minister’s wife, too, might be the very person to go with me.”
“I take a strong line with girls like Kylie.”
“Chust what I thought,” murmured Hamish. “Would you be tree this evening?”
“I have a mothers’ meeting this evening at the church hall, but it would be finished by ten.”
“So you’ll come with me?”
“Yes, I would consider it my Christian duty.”
“Good,” said Hamish. “I’ll pick you up at ten-thirty.”
“I will follow you in my car,” said Mrs. Wellington severely. “Members of the public should not be in a police vehicle. Which brings me to something I have heard…”
“Got to go,” said Hamish, heading for the door. “I’ll be here at ten-thirty.”
He strolled back to the police station. The air was becoming colder and the wind was shifting round from the west to the north. He hoped there would not be another storm.
The phone in the police office was ringing and he went to answer it. It was Sarah.
“That cure of yours worked like a charm,” she said, “and then I remembered you telling me about the effect of the Smiley brothers’ whisky and that brought a little thing to mind. I’m sure it’s not important but it happened when I was at The Scotsman Hotel.”
“What’s that?”
“Mrs. Macbean went up to the bar and asked for a whisky and said, “Give me the decent stuff.” It may be nothing at all.”
“But The Scotsman could be stocking hooch and putting it into regular bottles on the gantry. If the Smiley brothers were supplying the hotels, that would mean a major operation. I turned a blind eye to it because I thought they were running the usual Highland still, a few bottles for themselves and their friends,” said Hamish.
“Do you want me to go out there and ask for a whisky and see if I get a headache?”
“Too risky. They’ve seen you before. I’ll send someone else.”
There was a little silence.
Then Hamish said tentatively, “I don’t need to leave until ten-thirty this evening. Any chance of us having dinner together?”
“Not tonight. I’m expecting a call from London.”
“Oh, well in that case…”
“Maybe tomorrow, Hamish. There’s always tomorrow.”
“Bye.” He rang off and sat looking sadly out at the loch. In this modern age, he could not ask things like, “Did our night together mean nothing to you?”
Well, of course he could, but the answer might be a simple no and he felt he would not be able to bear that.
He went down to the Lochdubh bar and found Archie Macleod. “I want you to do a wee favour for me, Archie.”
“I hivnae had much sleep, Hamish. I was going to have a snooze this afternoon.”
“It won’t take long. I’ll pay you. I’ll pay you to drink.”
“That’s different.”
“Okay. Here’s what I want you to do…”
Archie strolled into the bar of The Scotsman Hotel an hour later. The barman, Johnny King, looked with contempt at the little fisherman in his tight, shiny suit. “What’s your pleasure, sir?” he asked with a sneer in his voice.
“I’ll hae a shot o’ Bells,” said Archie, pointing to a bottle on the gantry. The barman held the bottle under the optic and then put the glass down on the bar. Archie paid with the money Hamish had given him, and tossed the measure back in one gulp. “Anything else?” asked Johnny.
“No, I’ll be on my way.” Archie headed for the door. Nothing. He felt fine. Whistling cheerfully, he went out into the car park. Then he stopped and clutched his head as pain stabbed through it. He opened his car door and fished a half bottle of Bells that Hamish had given him out of the glove compartment and took a swig of it. The pain in his head miraculously disappeared. Archie drove off to Lochdubh and straight to the police station.
“Grand,” said Hamish. “Don’t be telling a soul about this, Archie. I’ll bet those brothers haven’t destroyed the still at all.”
“Are ye sure it isnae a wee bottle here and a wee bottle there, Hamish? If it were a big operation, someone would have talked afore this.”
“If it were a big operation,” said Hamish slowly, “they’d be verra quiet about it, and those in the know wouldnae dare talk. I think those Smiley boys are nasty customers.”
“So are ye going to raid them?”
“I think I’d better get some more proof. Anyway, if I got that whole lot over from Strathbane, the Smileys would hear of their coming afore they even left the town.”
“I’ll ask about, Hamish. Someone might let something slip.”
“All right, Archie, thanks. But be careful.”
Hamish then phoned Jimmy Anderson. “Are you any, farmer forward wi’ the investigations?” he asked. “Full stop, Hamish. Someone’s been at Blair’s computer again. But when he went to complain to the super about it, the super got a bit worried about Blair’s mental state because the man was reeking o’ whisky.”
“Probably nobody’s been near his records,” said Hamish. “I thought Blair didn’t know one end of a computer from another and was always getting one of the girls to type up his notes for him.”
“Aye, that’s what the super says so nothing’s being done about it this time.”
“What about the burglary at The Scotsman?”
“Dead full stop there as well, although it looks as if Macbean’ll probably get the insurance money anyway.”
“How come?”
“The company that owns the hotel have got hotshot lawyers who are pointing out that a robbery is a robbery: and even if the safe hadn’t had a wooden back, the burglar or burglars obviously knew what they were doing and that the money was there and so would have taken it anyway. Also the company has all their hotels insured with the same insurance company and they don’t want to lose their custom. Well, it’s not as if Macbean keeps the insurance money himself. It’ll go to a prize for the annual bingo night. So it’s not as if he stole the stuff himself and then meant to keep the insurance money.”
“Grant me patience,” moaned Hamish. “He could have stolen the money himself, kept it, reported the robbery, the company gets the money back from the insurance people and Macbean keeps the money he stole.”
“Aye, I suppose so. I wasnae thinking straight.”
“Have you gone thoroughly into Macbean’s background?”
“With a fine-tooth comb.”
“What about Mrs. Macbean, and the barman, Johnny King?”
“All there is tae know about Johnny King, I’ve already told ye.”
“And Mrs. Macbean?”
“Like I told you, born in Leith, bright at school, wouldn’t think it to look at her, would you? Used to be a looker, too. Policeman down there was questioning friends and relatives. Saw a photograph of her, Miss Leith 1970. He said she was a stunner.”
“What did she work at before she met Macbean?”
“Worked as a secretary.”
“Where?”
