to the staff up at the hotel. But keep this under wraps. People at the hotel might gossip a bit more freely if they think the murder solved. People will aye try to protect people, and that’s what always stops me getting at the truth.”
Clarry went off to pack his suitcase, and Hamish settled down and began to go through the folders. Kirsty had said that Angus had believed their troubles to be over. What did that mean? Angus’s bank account had been checked and there was nothing other than an overdraft.
He phoned up Angela, the doctor’s wife. “Is Kirsty up at the croft?”
“I believe so. I saw her the other day in Patel’s. What’s this about?”
“I chust wanted a word with her; see if she’s all right.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’ve still got my job.”
“Come round for a coffee when you can.”
Hamish buttoned on his tunic, minus the three stripes. He called to Clarry, “I’m going out.”
Clarry appeared in the doorway. “You’ve got nothing for your dinner as usual. Call round at the kitchen. I’ve got some nice braised venison. It’ll do you and Lugs a treat.”
“I might do that. Is Priscilla back yet?”
“I heard she might be on her way up.” Clarry drew himself up and said, “I would just like to say that you were the best boss a man ever had. I will never forget your kindness. Furthermore…”
“That’s all right,” said Hamish, turning red with embarrassment. “I’m off.”
“May I give you a hug?”
“Well, no, Clarry. Take care of yourself and stop watching those touchy-feely soaps.”
Hamish drove up to Kirsty’s croft house.
¦
She jerked open the door as if she had been waiting, had noticed his arrival.
“How are things, Kirsty?”
“Oh, it’s yourself, Hamish. I’m managing as best I can. Everyone around is giving me help with the sheep until I decide what to do. Come in.”
Hamish walked into the kitchen. It sparkled and shone. Every surface gleamed, and the air smelled strongly of disinfectant.
Hamish removed his hat and put it on the kitchen table. “I don’t want to distress you, Kirsty, you’ve been through a lot.”
Her eyes widened. “What’s happened? Not another death? I mean, it’s all over. It was that Greek bastard who killed my Angus.”
“Maybe.”
“What d’ye mean, ‘maybe’?” she demanded shrilly.
“At Strathbane, they’re beginning to think that maybe someone else murdered Angus.”
Her face turned white, and she clutched at the table for support.
“Sit down, Kirsty,” said Hamish, in that moment hating his job. “There may be nothing in it.”
“But if it’s possible there’s someone else,” she whispered, “he could be out there, waiting for me, and I’m up here on my own.”
“There, now. We have to examine everything, and there iss no reason why anyone should come after you.”
“But it was all over,” she wailed. “After the funeral, I had to try to put my grief behind me.”
Hamish said quietly, “I’ll need to ask you if he said anything at all that might be of help. Now, I know you were in shock right after the murder. But you said that Angus had said your troubles were over. And he had a phone call from the same box on the waterfront that Fergus got his last call from. Now, he was, I gather, fairly friendly with Fergus. Fergus was attempting to blackmail Ionides. He may have told Angus what he had. And after his death, Angus, desperate not to lose his croft, might have tried the same trick.”
“If he did, he said nothing to me,” said Kirsty.
“I cannae myself believe yet it was anyone else. There’s that phone call. That’s what bothers me.”
“I’m tired of all this.” Kirsty leaned her head on her hand. “I just want to put it all behind me.”
“I’m asking you, however, to think and think hard,” said Hamish. She stayed where she was, silent, and after a few moments, he let himself out.
He then drove to Elspeth MacRae’s croft. “Come in, Hamish,” she said happily. “I was just about to have a cup of tea.”
How relaxed everyone was now that they thought the murders were solved. Hamish went into the stone- flagged kitchen. A peat fire burned in the hearth and an old clock ticked noisily on the wall, the chintz curtains fluttered at the open window: a scene of Highland tranquillity, far removed from murder and mayhem.
“It iss not really the social call,” said Hamish awkwardly to Elspeth’s back as she busied herself pouring boiling water into a teapot. Her back stiffened. She carefully put the lid on the teapot, placed it on a tray along with two mugs, milk, sugar and biscuits, and carried it to the kitchen table.
“I don’t see what it can be,” said Elspeth. “You have my sheep dip papers. Help yourself to sugar and milk.”
“It’s like this,” said Hamish. “It seems there’s a possibility that Angus was murdered by someone else.”
“How can that be?”
“The pilot swears blind that neither he nor Ionides was responsible for that murder. And yet it’s strange. For Angus got that call before he went out, and we traced it to that call box on the waterfront.”
She lowered her eyes quickly. Hamish eyed her sharply. “What iss it? You’ve got to tell me.”
She clasped her hands and said in a low voice, “You’ve known me a long time, Hamish.”
“Yes.”
“You know I’d never hurt a fly.”
“What have you been keeping from me, Elspeth?”
A sheep bleated nearby and a gust of wind blew around the cottage. The clock ticked away, marking out the seconds of her silence.
“Angus was going to sell me his croft house,” she finally said, “and then, having the house, I was going to apply to the Crofting Commission for the tenancy of the land. He had been saying one day he would do it, then the other that he had changed his mind. I was down in the village, and I saw the phone box and decided to call him before I got home and see if he had come to any decision. He sounded excited, happy, said something had come up. He said he would drive over and tell me. I said I was phoning from the village, and I would see him at my place. I went home and waited and waited. And then I heard he’d been murdered.”
“So why didn’t you tell me or any policeman that it wass you that made the call?”
“I was shocked. I didn’t know the call was important. I was shocked, Hamish,” she repeated.
Hamish sighed. “I may need to take a statement from you, Elspeth. You should neffer have held back information like this.”
“But I had nothing to do with the poor man’s murder!”
“Someone did. It looks as if it was you he was going out to see. Wait a minute, I remember Kirsry saying he had told I her to go away somewhere and leave him for a bit. I mean, why would he do that if he was the one that was going out? I’m sorry, but there’s no way I can keep this bit of evidence quiet.”
“Then you can take yourself off,” said Elspeth. “Just get out of my house. If it’s a choice between your friends and the police, you’ll always stick to the police. You’re a fascist!”
“I’m off,” said Hamish. “But I want you down at the police station at ten o’ clock tomorrow morning.”
As he left, he damned the secretiveness of the locals. What other bits of evidence were some of them keeping from him?
He went back to Kirsty. “What is this?” she demanded angrily. “Haven’t you upset me enough for one day?”
“Kirsty, you never told me Angus was thinking of selling to Elspeth.”
“Oh, that. He changed his mind from day to day.”
“But Elspeth was the one who phoned him, and he told her he was going to drive over and see her. He sounded happy. He said something had come up.”
