Hamish gave a shiver. “We should have closed her eyes,” he said wearily. “Why did we forget to close her eyes?”
¦
Dawn was breaking. Hamish had changed into dry clothes. Detectives Jimmy Anderson and Harry MacNab were sitting in his living room facing him. Priscilla sat beside Hamish on the sofa. In his bedroom, Willie slept on, as he had slept during the whole business. “So, Hamish,” said Anderson, “you’ve got it sewn up nicely. And you’ve got her confession on tape! Good man. Where is it?”
“It iss where I left it,” said Hamish slowly. “It iss by the old quarry.”
“No, it’s not,” said Priscilla cheerfully. “I picked it up.” She opened her handbag and drew out the tape recorder.
Hamish gave her an agonized look. On that tape was Cheryl’s voice not only admitting to the murder but talking about the drugs and money and the video. “Chust leave it be, Priscilla,” he said quickly. “I’ll type it up, Jimmy, and let you have it.”
“No, let’s hear it now,” said Anderson. “How does it work? I was never any good wi’ gadgets.”
“Simple,” said Priscilla, seemingly oblivious to Hamish’s warning look. “You just press this button here.”
Hamish covered his face with his hands as Cheryl’s voice sounded into the room. The tape ran on to the bit about Cheryl confessing to smashing Sean and then there was Hamish’s voice saying she should accompany him to the police station and Cheryl shouting ‘No!’ and then nothing but the sound of Hamish running and panting and then his shouting a warning about the quarry.
Hamish slowly took his hands down from his face. Priscilla was sitting there calmly, as cool as a lettuce in a tailored green dress. The whole piece about the drugs, the money and the video had miraculously disappeared from the tape.
“Well, I must say you did a grand job, Sergeant,” said Anderson. Hamish glanced at him. Could it be his imagination, or had Anderson become more pompous in manner and heavier in figure? Was the mantle of the repulsive Blair about to fall on his shoulders? “Of course,” went on Anderson, “I consider it my duty to put in my report that the case could’ve maybe been solved earlier if you had not decided to investigate the Strathbane end on your own.”
“That’s unfair,” said Priscilla.
“A good detective is always honest in his report,” said Anderson.
The telephone rang in the police station and Hamish went through to answer it.
“When I’m Detective Chief Inspector, MacNab,” said Anderson, “I’ll be keeping Macbeth up to the mark. So he tricked that girl into a confession, but it’s most irregular.”
Hamish came in with a smile on his face. “I’ve got the grand news,” he said. “That was Turnbull from Strathbane. He forgot to tell you last night that Blair is recovering. He’ll soon be back on the job.”
Anderson seemed to dwindle in size to his former thin shape. “Pillock!” he said. “Here, Hamish, hae you any whisky?”
“A good copper does not drink on duty,” said Hamish primly.
“Come on, Hamish, I’m off duty as from now.”
“Particularly,” went on Hamish, “a good copper who plans to put in a bad report about me.”
“Did I say that?” Anderson looked wounded. “There’ll be nothing but praise.”
“In that case,” said Hamish, “I seem to mind I have the bottle somewhere.”
? Death of a Travelling Man ?
10
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.
—John Howard Payne
Anderson and MacNab had finally left, Cheryl’s body had been taken to Strathbane, and Hamish, supplied with black coffee by Priscilla, had typed up his report.
He came back into the living room and sat down with a sigh. “What a night! Now, tell me how on earth you managed to doctor that tape.”
“Easy. The minute I heard Cheryl was dead, I ran back to the castle with it. Someone had found it on the shore and I grabbed it and said I’d give it to you. I simply cut that bit out of the tape and then spliced it together again.”
“How did you know how to do that?”
“Oh, some friend showed me how some time ago. You’d better get to bed, Hamish.”
“Not yet. I’ve got to get that stuff up from under the packing case and I’ve got to erase the video. Are you awfully tired, or can you get the three women here?”
“Yes, but what about Willie?”
Willie was up and crashing dishes around in the kitchen to show his displeasure. He had learned of the solving of the murder from Priscilla as soon as he had got up and had come to the conclusion that Hamish had deliberately been keeping him out of the investigation.
Hamish went through to the kitchen. “Look, Willie,” he said, “most of the investigations took place in Strathbane, where I shouldn’t have been. I couldnae risk getting the both of us in trouble.”
Willie was polishing dishes in the sink with a little mop. He hunched his shoulders and did not reply.
“It’s no’ as if you’ve shown any real interest in police work,” said Hamish, exasperated.
“I would ha’ shown interest enough with any encouragement,” said Willie. “You wanted all the kludos for yourself.”
“If you mean kudos, I did not. Take a walk, Willie I really need to talk to Priscilla in private. Take the morning off.” His voice grew wheedling. “Mr Ferrari may not know the case is solved and he’d be right happy to hear about it.”
“I suppose it’s ma duty to tell him,” said Willie reluctantly, “seeing as how the auld man said you were trying to pin the murder on him because he’s a foreigner.”
“Havers. But run along and tell him and don’t come back until lunchtime.”
Willie removed his apron. “I’ll come back when I feel like it,
When he had gone, Hamish returned to Priscilla and said, “That’s got rid of him. Go and get the women here and I’ll get that bag up from under the packing case.”
Hamish went up to the field and looked about to make sure no one was watching before he took the rocks out of the packing case and shoved it aside. He took the metal box out of the bag and then replaced it with some of the rocks.
Mrs Wellington, Jessie Currie and Angela Brodie were sitting in the living room when he returned.
“Do the police know?” asked Mrs Wellington, her face a muddy colour. “Miss Halburton-Smythe would not tell us anything.”
“Only we know, us here in this room,” said Hamish. He opened the box. “All the money Sean got from you will not be here, for I’m sure he spent a lot of it, but I’ll leave it to you to divide up what’s here, and Angela, you’d best put those packets of morphine back in the surgery.”
The three women looked at him without moving.
“Oh, the video,” said Hamish. “Here it is.” He put a couple of fire-lighters on the fire, lit them and then threw the video on top of them.
Priscilla slid quietly out of the room.
Jessie, Angela and Mrs Wellington watched solemnly until the video disintegrated into a black molten mess.
“Now let’s get to the money,” said Mrs Wellington with a return of her usual bossy manner.
¦
Willie Lamont was met at the kitchen door by Lucia. She was carrying a sack of rubbish. “I’ll take that,” said Willie. “You should not be carrying heavy loads like that.”
He walked round to the back of the restaurant and heaved the sack into the large rubbish container.
