Death of a Kingfisher (7 page)

‘Right.’

‘Do you have a photograph of him?’

‘Yes,’ said Charles. ‘There’s one in the school brochure.’

‘And do you have it with you?’

‘It’s in my room. I’ll get it.’

They waited until he came back. Hamish said, ‘Now, I’m going to tell you this,’ said Hamish. ‘I believe you and I’m going to fix this. When are your parents due back?’

‘They said they would not be back until this evening. They want to avoid the press,’ said Olivia. Hamish felt a sudden surge of hatred for such parents who could leave their children alone when they needed support the most.

‘I want you to sit tight. I will fix this for you and that includes Smithers.’

They looked at him with a gleam of hope in their
usually
flat eyes.

‘Annie, I want you to take them out of here, down to a movie in Strathbane, anywhere to cheer them up. Leave all this to me.’

Elspeth Grant had come back north to cover the story. Hamish sped back to Lochdubh, where he phoned her. ‘Get over here to Lochdubh,’ he said. ‘I might be having the big story for you.’

Elspeth walked into the police station to find Hamish in front of his computer, a school brochure spread out in front of him. He rapidly filled her in on the story. ‘I’m trawling through the pictures of sex offenders. Maybe that art teacher changed his name.’

‘You’re putting yourself at risk, Hamish,’ said Elspeth anxiously. He swung round and found her silvery Gypsy eyes surveying him.

‘Why?’

‘Just a feeling.’

‘Oh, you and your feelings. Let me get on with this.’

Elspeth pulled up a chair next to his. ‘There!’ she said suddenly.

‘How can you tell? He’s got a beard. Smithers is clean-shaven.’

‘Use your imagination, Hamish. The eyes are the same. See how the left eye droops at the corner. Real name, Frederick Styles, charged with the rape of a nine-year-old girl ten years ago. Got eight years and out in six.’

‘Right. I’ll report to Jimmy and get the wheels in motion. Those precious parents went down to Strathbane to see the lawyer. You might catch them there. If not, look for the most expensive restaurant in town. Don’t tell anyone I tipped you off.’

As Elspeth shot out of the police station, she nearly bumped into Dick, who was wiping the sleep from his eyes. Dick strolled into the station. ‘Don’t suppose
anything’s
been happening,’ he said. ‘Anything to eat?’

Elspeth was in luck. Ralph and Fern Palfour were just emerging from the lawyers’ offices when Elspeth approached them, microphone at the ready, filming already begun.

‘We have just discovered,’ said Elspeth, ‘that your daughter was sexually attacked by her art master, a registered sex offender, and was only saved from rape by her brother. The man’s real name is Frederick Styles. Why did you do nothing to protect your children?’

Fern burst into tears. Ralph tried to punch the
cameraman
who stepped nimbly out of the reach of his fist. ‘I’ll sue you for this!’ he howled.

‘Please do,’ said Elspeth. ‘In the meantime, have you considered removing your children from that school?’

But Ralph and Fern had got into their car and roared off.

Hamish was later to wonder if all the resultant fuss had slowed down the investigation into Mrs Colchester’s death. Frederick Styles had disappeared and the police were searching for him. The Palfours were at one point in danger of having their children taken away from them. But a psychiatrist recommended that they should attend the local school in Braikie and try to lead normal lives while receiving counselling from him every week. Ralph and Fern Palfour were told that they were to stay in the Highlands until the police gave them permission to leave.

Mary Leinster had not been arrested. She insisted she had the second sight and that was that. On the evening of the murder, she said she had been at home with her husband.

Elspeth called on Hamish before heading south to thank him for the story. ‘It seems the sort of awful school where
parents
board difficult children just to get them out of the way. When I finally got to speak to Fern Palfour, all she would say was, ‘But Lady Firthing sends her children there!’

‘I’m still puzzled by the violence and intricacy of the murder,’ said Hamish.

‘Have you thought that it might have been done that way as a warning?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve a feeling,’ said Elspeth, ‘that someone out there knows something and has to be frightened into silence. And what makes it worse, someone
enjoyed
planning this murder. And what about Mary Leinster?’

‘What about her?’ demanded Hamish sharply. ‘There’s no proof against her.’

‘If she didn’t commit the murder,’ said Elspeth, ‘and I can’t see her having the expertise, then she may be at risk. Either you believe in the second sight, either Mary was just showing off by saying she had a foresight of the murder, or she knows something and the murderer or murderers might consider she’s a risk.’

‘You often have flashes of something verra like the second sight,’ said Hamish.

‘I don’t think it’s that,’ said Elspeth slowly. ‘I think my brain gathers up all the knowledge and then gives me a feeling of something about to happen. Have you visited our famous seer?’

‘Angus Macdonald. No. Why?’

‘I’ll bet Mary’s been to see him at some point. He might be worth a visit.’

Dick came into the kitchen carrying a shopping bag. ‘I’ve got some nice lamb chops here,’ he said. ‘Is it just you and me for supper or will Miss Grant be joining us?’

‘Not me,’ said Elspeth. ‘I’ve got to be going. Be careful, Hamish.’

‘That’s a grand lass,’ said Dick when Elspeth had left. ‘I’ll just be popping these chops on the stove.’

‘Give me about another hour, Dick. I’ve got someone to see.’

Hamish found a box of cigars he had bought on a trip to Spain in his bedside drawer, and with the box tucked under his arm he went off to see Angus. The seer always expected a present. Hamish did not believe for a moment that the seer had any magical powers. He thought Angus relied on his wits and gossip.

A light drizzle was falling as he walked up the brae to Angus’s cottage. The seer, shaggily bearded and wearing a
ratty dressing gown, answered the door. He accepted the cigars and tucked them into his dressing gown pocket.

When they were seated in front of the smoking peat fire in Angus’s living room, Hamish asked, ‘Have you had a visit from Mary Leinster?’

‘Aye?’

‘What did she want?’

Angus grinned, showing yellow nicotine-stained teeth. ‘Herself wanted to build me a grotto in the Fairy Glen. I was to sit there and say wise things to the tourists. I told her my arthritis wouldn’t hear of it.’

‘Would you say she had the second sight?’

‘I would say that one could see round corners. Cunning, she is.’

‘Come on, Angus. She’s a pleasant woman who’s
bringing
a lot of trade into Braikie.’

‘Set her cap at ye, has she?’

Hamish blushed. ‘Nothing like that.’

‘Aye, well, chust so long as she doesn’t give you that auld chestnut about an unhappy marriage and so there’s hope for one red-haired copper getting that cuddly body into bed.’

‘Whateffer gave you such a nasty idea?’ said Hamish stiffly.

‘You aye let the good ones get away, that’s why.’

Hamish’s Highland accent was pronounced. ‘I do not know what you are talking about. Chust mind your ain business in future.’

‘You came up here to make it my business,’ said Angus.

‘I’m off!’ Hamish headed for the door.

‘Look out for the fairies,’ cackled Angus as Hamish slammed the door and set off down the brae.

He was taken aback to find Mary Leinster waiting for him in the kitchen, being served tea by Dick.

‘Oh, Hamish!’ she cried, when she saw him. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

‘What’s the matter?’ demanded Hamish sharply. ‘Not another murder?’

As Mary gulped and sobbed, Dick explained. ‘Some residents of Braikie say that the glen was left to the public of Braikie. Nothing was ever said about charging
admission
. They are threatening to take Mary to court.’

Hamish hung his peaked cap on a hook behind the door and sat down next to Mary. ‘Does the late Lord Growther’s will say anything about not charging anyone?’

Mary shook her head. ‘But some of the townspeople are beginning to say we’re greedy.’

‘There is one way round it,’ said Hamish. ‘Bus tours and car parties of people from outside the area pay the usual fee. The townspeople do not pay. That should settle the matter.’

Mary took out a lace-edged handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. ‘How clever you are!’ she exclaimed. But there was a flash of something in those large blue eyes, gone in a minute. Hamish was suddenly reminded of the kingfisher.

‘So,’ said Mary, ‘that’s settled. I’ll tell the council
tomorrow
and get a broadcast on the local radio. I owe you dinner, Sergeant Macbeth.’

Hamish hesitated. She looked at him, those magnificent eyes soft with appeal. He reflected dizzily that it was not often one saw a
rounded
, attractive woman these days. The fashion was for skinny muscular figures and high
cheekbones
. Mary was wearing a thin blue cashmere dress and small sapphire earrings.

Why not, he thought, suddenly angry with Elspeth and the seer for putting nasty thoughts about her in his head. ‘Grand,’ he said.

‘I’ll just hae the lamb chops and give the beasties some,’ said Dick cheerfully.

But as Mary preceded Hamish to the kitchen door, she found the wild cat, Sonsie, blocking her way, eyes yellow with hate and fur raised. Mary gave a cry of fright and backed against Hamish.

‘Get lost, Sonsie!’ shouted Hamish. ‘Out!’

The cat turned and slid out through the large cat flap. ‘Sorry about that,’ said Hamish. ‘I swear that animal gets jealous.’

Mary took his arm as they walked outside, and dimpled up at him. ‘I can understand that.’

The cat had joined the dog, Lugs, by the waterfront wall. They both turned and stared at Hamish and Mary.

‘What … what unusual animals,’ gasped Mary. ‘I mean, a wild cat! And a dog with blue eyes!’

‘They’re grand beasts,’ said Hamish defensively, ‘and they’ve both saved my life on some occasions.’

‘How exciting! You must tell me about it.’

Priscilla Halburton-Smythe, Hamish’s ex-fiancée, arrived at the Tommel Castle Hotel for a brief visit. Her parents owned the hotel. The manager, Mr Johnson, welcomed her, and Priscilla asked him about the murder which had been in all the newspapers.

When he had finished giving her all the gossip, Priscilla asked, ‘Where is Hamish this evening?’

‘He’s in the Italian restaurant right at this moment being bewitched, bothered, and bewildered by Mary Leinster.’

‘Indeed! The Fairy Glen woman?’

‘The same.’

‘But she’s married, isn’t she?’

‘There’s a rumour she’s getting a divorce. She claims to have the second sight.’

‘Pooh, and double pooh.’

The window of the manager’s office overlooked the car park. ‘I think a couple of your friends are out there,
waiting
for a word.’

Priscilla joined him at the window. Sonsie and Lugs were sitting next to her BMW.

‘How very odd,’ said Priscilla. ‘What do you think they want?’

‘Those beasts give me the creeps. If they were human, I’d say they want you to get down to that restaurant and stop whatever is going on.’

‘They’re probably just hoping for a free handout from the kitchens.’

As soon as she had driven off, Mr Johnson phoned Dick at the police station. ‘She’s on her way with the cat and dog,’ he said. ‘Clever of you to sneak them up here.’

‘How did you know Mary Leinster and Hamish were having dinner?’ asked Dick.

‘As soon as they left the police station together, the jungle drums started beating. I thought if Priscilla felt obliged to take his pets back to him, it might throw a spanner in the works. He shouldn’t be cavorting around with a murder suspect and a married one at that.’

Hamish was thinking pretty much the same thing. The restaurant was offering a cheap Recession Special, and the place was crowded. He was aware of curious and accusing eyes on him and his partner.

Willie Lamont, the waiter, took some time to get round to take their order. He had just written it down when the door of the restaurant opened. Priscilla entered with the cat and dog. Sonsie jumped on Hamish’s back, pressed her furry chin on his shoulder, and glared balefully at Mary.

‘Get off!’ said Hamish furiously. ‘Priscilla, why are you here? And why did you bring Sonsie and Lugs?’

‘I found them in the hotel car park. I was worried
something
might have happened to you, and Mr Johnson told me where you were.’ Willie was quickly drawing out
another chair at the table for Priscilla. ‘Come along,’ he said to Sonsie and Lugs. ‘Osso buco tonight.’ The cat plopped down on to the floor and, followed by Lugs,
disappeared
into the kitchen.

Hamish made the introductions. The two women
surveyed
each other. Mary was angry. Priscilla with her height and cool fair beauty was making her feel diminished.

Willie came back and Priscilla gave her order. Hamish wanted to protest that she hadn’t been invited, until he quickly realized that her presence was restoring an air of respectability to his meeting with Mary.

‘Tell me all about it,’ urged Priscilla. And Hamish, remembering how useful Priscilla had been as a sort of Watson in the past, began to outline everything he knew while Mary’s face began to register boredom.

When Hamish had finished, Priscilla turned her
attention
to Mary. ‘It’s a horrible business. What do you plan to do with the money?’

‘We have to finish building the gift shop,’ said Mary, becoming animated. ‘Then we will be able to take out
full-colour
advertisements in all the major magazines. A lot of the paths through the woods need to be gravelled. Then I thought a Fairy Fête would be a good idea with the local children dressed as pixies and little lights hung through the trees. Oh, all sorts of ideas.’