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Authors: M.C. Beaton

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Hamish’s quiet voice interrupted her. ‘Why was I hit on the head in Glasgow? How did you know I was there? What was so important about that letter from Brighton?’

‘I was always wary of you,’ she said. ‘I followed you when you left for Glasgow. I had to keep well behind before you got on to the busier roads. I saw you take the Glasgow
plane. It was crowded. I bought myself a hat and dark glasses at the shop at the airport, bought a ticket and took a chance. You never even noticed me. I followed you while you talked to people.
Then I followed you back to Jock’s flat. I was worried what you would find. I stood inside the door and watched you take that letter from Brighton out. Jock and I went to Brighton for a
weekend once. I stayed behind. I wrote him a passionate love letter. Jock kept a baseball bat by the door. I whacked you with that and took the letter, went to the airport and got the next plane
back to Inverness.’

‘When Jock was in Brighton, he managed to have a one-night stand with Caro Garrard. How did he manage that?’

‘He couldn’t have . . . He wouldn’t.’

‘Okay, maybe he met her and went back to Brighton later. But did you know Jock was still having sex with his wife?’

‘Liar. Not possible. He told me he was sick of her and she’d only followed him up here to get more money out of him.’

‘We have forensic proof that he did,’ said Hamish. ‘He said something about her having certain tricks.’

Her eyes grew wider and wider, and then she began to scream and scream.

‘Take her away,’ said Jimmy. ‘That’s enough for now.’

After she had gone, Hamish said, ‘Just as well she didn’t know, or we’d have another dead body.’

‘Have you and your lady friend made your statements?’ asked Daviot.

‘She is not my lady friend, but yes, we have made our statements.’

‘I think the least we can do,’ said Daviot, ‘is to put you and Miss Grant up in a hotel for the night.’

‘Thank you, sir, but we should be getting back. Her luggage is there, and I have to look after my animals. The cat saved my life.’

‘The medical officer treated that bite your dog gave her,’ said Jimmy. ‘Okay, off you go. You’re looking very white again, Hamish. Sure you’re up to driving
back?’

‘I’ll be okay.’

Hamish and Elspeth drove back in silence for most of the way. Then Hamish said, ‘I plan to do absolutely nothing tomorrow. You?’

‘I’ll do a follow-up piece in the morning. You know the stuff – the shadow of murder leaves Lochdubh and yackety-yak.’

‘At least with the attempt on our lives, I’ve got a good excuse for not giving Matthew the story. I promised him first bite. I think we should go out to the Italian’s tomorrow
and celebrate the end of all this.’

‘You’re on.’ Elspeth grinned in the darkness. ‘And for once in your life, you’ve got the money to pay for it.’

Although he was exhausted, Hamish did not fall asleep right away. He now knew that Betty had been nice to him only to throw him off the scent. Had he become such a pathetic
bachelor that he could not see what lay behind her attractive appearance?

Sonsie stretched out beside him and gave a rumbling purr. He patted the cat’s silky coat and slowly drifted off into tortured dreams in which Betty was dragging him down into the black
depths of the lake.

Hamish awoke late the next morning to find Elspeth had gone out. He washed and shaved and decided not to put on his uniform but to take the day off. He had just finished
dressing when the phone rang. It was Jimmy.

‘Betty Barnard is asking to see you, Hamish. You don’t need to.’

‘I’ll drop over. Is she still at police headquarters?’

‘Until this afternoon. We’re transferring her to the women’s prison to await trial.’

Hamish drove off, taking Sonsie and Lugs with him. He could let them out for a run in the heather on the way back.

The day was grey and misty. As the Land Rover mounted a rise above Strathbane, he looked down on the place he loathed most. He always thought the town a scar on the beauty of the Highlands.

He parked outside police headquarters and went up to the detectives’ room where Jimmy was waiting. ‘I’ll take you down to the cells,’ said Jimmy. ‘Daviot is
thrilled to bits. He’s about to hold a press conference.’

‘I hope you took all the credit,’ said Hamish uneasily.

‘You’re still frightened of promotion in case they take you out of that backwater called Lochdubh. Relax. I did a Blair. I took all the credit.’

Hamish was led to Betty’s cell. The door was left open, and a policewoman stood on duty outside.

Betty was sitting on the cell’s narrow bed. She looked up when he came in.

‘I just wanted to say goodbye,’ she said.

‘Why?’ Hamish sat down on the bed next to her.

‘We were friends, believe it or not. I even began to think at one time that it might be nice to be married to someone like you.’

‘Why did you have to go and murder two people and ruin your life?’ asked Hamish.

‘Passion,’ she said. ‘Have you ever really been in love, Hamish? Deep, all-consuming love? It tricks the mind. Jock always had some excuse. “We’ll get married next
year, or when I’ve had the next exhibition”, and I believed him because love had driven me mad.

‘I’ve asked my lawyer to contact Jock and tell him to come and see me. Even now I can’t let go.’

There were voices outside, and then the policewoman came in and handed Betty a letter. She opened it up and glanced at the signature. ‘It’s from Jock,’ she said.

She read the letter while her face grew stiff with pain. Then she numbly handed it to Hamish. Jock had written:

Dear Betty,

I am not coming to see you and I will never forgive you for what you’ve done. I never really wanted to marry you but you’d lent me money I couldn’t pay
back and you were such a good agent I thought I’d string you along. Don’t contact me again.

Jock

Hamish sat in an awkward silence. Then he said, ‘Well, that’s that. You’ll chust need to get on with life.’

‘In prison?’

‘Why not? No death penalty. It didn’t come out at the interview, but it was you that defaced the portrait of Priscilla, wasn’t it?’

‘I got sick of him raving on about her beauty. Oh, God, help me! I don’t know what to do.’

Hamish stood up. ‘There’s nothing you can do but take your punishment. Have you no remorse for killing these two people?’

‘No. I despised them both.’

Hamish left the cell, and the policewoman slammed and locked the cell door behind him.

 
Epilogue

Never give all the heart, for love

Will hardly seem worth thinking of

To passionate women if it seem

Certain, and they never dream

That it fades out from kiss to kiss.

– W.B. Yeats

As he drove back down into Lochdubh, Hamish saw the mobile unit being towed away.

He found he was looking forward to his evening with Elspeth.

She was in the bathroom when he entered the police station. ‘Is that you, Hamish?’ she called nervously.

‘Only me. Betty’s locked up tight. Don’t use all the hot water.’

‘I already have. You’d better stoke up the fire.’

Hamish lifted the lid of the stove and added kindling and peat to the dying fire.

It was grand to have Elspeth for company, he thought. They’d been through a lot together. Her psychic abilities were better than the seer’s any day. He felt like going up to Angus
and demanding his fish back.

The phone rang. What now? He went into the office. Jimmy’s voice sounded down the line, harsh and upset.

‘She’s hanged herself, Hamish.’

‘What? How?’

‘With her tights on the bars of her cell.’

‘I thought they would take anything like that away from her.’

‘There’s going to be an inquiry, and that means statements and forms and bureaucracy by the mile. You’d better come over tomorrow and make a statement about her condition when
you saw her last.’

‘I’ll send it over, Jimmy. I’m heartsick about the whole business.’

‘Well, it’ll save the state a trial.’

‘Did she leave a note?’

‘She wrote on the back of a letter from Jock Fleming. It simply said, “You’ve killed me, Jock.”’

Hamish felt a sudden burst of anger. ‘I’m going over to see that bastard tomorrow. If he hadn’t been stringing her along, these murders might never have taken place.’

‘Don’t punch him,’ said Jimmy wearily, ‘or he’ll charge you with assault and you’ll lose your job.’

‘I’ll keep my hands behind my back.’

‘Good man.’

‘How’s Blair?’

‘Who cares? As far as I know, he’s back home convalescing. See you.’

Elspeth came out of the bathroom. She was made-up and wearing a filmy gown of green silk chiffon and high heels.

‘You look a picture,’ said Hamish. He bent and kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll put on my best suit.’

‘You mean your only suit,’ said Elspeth.

He went off into the bathroom to shower and then into the bedroom to dress.

Elspeth smiled to herself as she heard him whistling. Everything was going to be all right.

The phone rang. Hamish went into the office.

‘Hamish?’ said Priscilla’s voice.

‘Who else?’ said Hamish coldly.

‘Hamish, I saw the story in the newspapers, and I think I should explain.’

‘Explain what?’

‘I was on my way to see you when I met Betty Barnard. She asked me where I was going, and I said I was going to see you because Angela Brodie had phoned me to say you had a concussion.
Betty said, “Don’t worry. As his future wife, I think I should be the one to take care of him.” I now realize she was probably lying.’

‘Why did you believe her?’

‘I had seen the pair of you together. I thought you were in love with her, Hamish.’

Hamish gripped the receiver hard. ‘Tell me, Priscilla, if at the time you believed Betty, why should you care? You’re engaged to be married.’

‘Was
engaged to be married.’

Hamish could feel his heart beating hard. ‘Was?’

‘Yes. I broke it off as soon as I got back. It wasn’t working out. I’m tired of London. I’m thinking of coming back and working at the hotel. I miss my home.’

‘That’ll be grand. When?’

‘I’ll need to give a month’s notice. After that, I suppose.’

‘I’ll look forward to it.’

Hamish said goodbye and slowly replaced the receiver. She was coming home for good. Priscilla was coming back. But she hadn’t said why she was so upset when Betty lied to her about
marrying him.

He finished dressing and went into the kitchen. Elspeth smiled at him and said, ‘Don’t you look . . .’ and then the smile faded from her face.

‘Priscilla,’ she said flatly. ‘That was Priscilla on the phone.’

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

Hamish’s face flamed. ‘It wass a private conversation.’

‘You poor sucker. She keeps jerking your chain.’

‘You’ve got no right to speak to me like that.’

Elspeth sighed. ‘One’s as bad as the other. She sat at this table one evening and told me how she was looking forward to her wedding to dear Peter.’

‘I don’t want to talk about her!’ howled Hamish.

‘You may as well take me for dinner,’ said Elspeth. ‘Otherwise I’d be all dressed up and nowhere to go.’

Hamish and Elspeth tried to make conversation during dinner, but their silences lengthened.

‘This is hopeless,’ said Elspeth finally. ‘Stay and finish your wine. I’m going back to pack.’

‘Stay the night.’

‘I’d rather stop somewhere on the road. Thanks for the story, thanks for getting me my job back, and I hope you and Priscilla Halburton-Smythe will be truly miserable.’

She stalked out.

Hamish stayed where he was, feeling guilty But as he saw her car drive past, a surge of elation went through him. Priscilla was coming home to the Highlands.

The next day, Hamish drove over to the caravan park at Cnothan.

Jock and Dora were sitting on deck chairs outside their caravan.

‘Betty’s dead,’ said Hamish, standing over them.

‘How? What happened?’ asked Jock.

‘She got your letter and hanged herself in her cell. You are a piece of scum. If you hadn’t led her on, she might never have murdered those two folk.’

‘Och, get off your high horse. Don’t tell me you’ve never led some woman on.’

A picture of Elspeth rose before Hamish’s eyes. He shook his head to get rid of it.

‘Don’t cross my path again,’ he said. ‘In fact, get off my beat, or I’ll make your lives a misery.’

Hamish stalked off. Then he had a sudden thought. He got into the Land Rover and telephoned Jimmy. ‘Betty didn’t say anything about sewing the cocaine into the curtains when I was
there.’

‘We interviewed her later when she stopped screaming. We had to fill in the blanks. Yes, she confessed to that and to defacing Priscilla’s portrait.’

‘Pity,’ said Hamish. ‘I’d ha’ loved to arrest one of that pair.’

As Hamish drove back towards Lochdubh, he suddenly thought of Detective Chief Inspector Blair. He felt sure no one had gone to visit him. He wrestled with his conscience and
then decided a ten-minute call would be all right.

He bought a bottle of whisky and drove to the housing estate in Strathbane where Blair lived.

It was a semi-detached house with a weedy garden in front. He rang the doorbell and waited, hearing shuffling from inside.

Blair opened the door and blinked up at Hamish. He was leaning on a pair of crutches.

‘What is it?’ he demanded.

‘I brought you a present and came to see how you were,’ said Hamish.

Blair snatched the bottle from him, snarled, ‘I know you, you came to gloat. Bastard!’ and slammed the door in Hamish’s face.

Hamish walked away, shaking his head and giving his conscience a talking-to. ‘Now, wasn’t that a waste of time?’ he raged. A woman passing by gave him a nervous look.

He drove into the centre of Strathbane and parked the Land Rover. He would take a look around the shops and treat himself to lunch.

Hamish was not used to having money to spend on himself, and he felt quite profligate as he bought himself a new pair of shoes, his old ones having fallen apart a long time ago. The odd times he
had worn a suit, he had worn his regulation boots with it.

BOOK: Death of a Dreamer
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