Hamish Macbeth 18 (2002) - Death of a Celebrity (24 page)

He was just washing his hands at an outside tap at the back of the police station when Elspeth appeared.

“Feeling all right?” asked Hamish.

“Bit shaky. To tell the truth, I’ll see that body going over the falls until the day I die.”

“Come inside. I’ll make coffee.”

“I thought they’d all be here.”

“No, their guilty consciences are keeping them away. But I’m as much to blame.”

“Why?” she asked, following him into the kitchen. Hamish took the cleat and lifted the top off the stove and threw some peat inside.

“If I hadn’t been so anxious not to leave Lochdubh, not to get promotion, I’d have charged her myself. I could have talked her away from the edge of the falls.”

“Maybe you could. But you’re forgetting one thing. She’d killed two people. If her husband treated her so badly, then maybe that turned her mind. But to plan cold-bloodedly to kill Felicity! I mean, when she saw Felicity, all she had to do was tell you. Felicity would have been arrested. But she’d still be alive. No one would have been any the wiser about Mary. On the other hand, I don’t think anyone should go unpunished for taking a life.”

Hamish put a kettle on the stove. “You’re a comfort, Elspeth. That’s a rare gift you’ve got. It was you fainting in Patel’s that put me on to her.”

“Don’t tell anyone about it, Hamish. It’s not in your report, is it?”

“Not a word.”

“Thanks. Heavens! Is that the time? My friend Sally will be arriving on the bus any moment. I’ll get coffee another time.”

Hamish walked her to the kitchen door. “Thanks again.”

She suddenly put her arms around him and held him close. She closed her eyes and raised her lips for his kiss.

Nothing happened. She opened her eyes. Hamish was looking down at her with an expressionless face.

She released him and backed away, her face flaming. “Got to go,” she said, ducking her head. She hurried out.

Friend Sally listened fascinated to Elspeth’s tale. Then she said, “You seem keen on this Hamish Macbeth.”

“I was. In fact I made a pass at him today. Got rejected.”

“Well, it’s your fault when you’ve got a gorgeous man like George Earle panting after you.”

“Oh, George is just George.”

“And George is just what you need. Show that village copper you don’t care. Tell George to drive up here after work. Go on. You phone him or I will.”

“All right,” said Elspeth reluctantly. “May as well.”

Later that day, Carson stood awkwardly in the police station. “Blair will be back next week, so I’ll be leaving for Inverness.”

“Right,” said Hamish, fiddling with a pot on the stove.

“I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye and thanking you for your hospitality.”

“Right.”

“Hamish, come and sit down and listen to me!”

Hamish sat down at the kitchen table opposite him. “It was like this,” said Carson heavily. “I’ll be honest with you. Yes, I didn’t want to keep the CID out of it, but I should have taken you along. Mary Hendry’s death is on my conscience.”

Hamish rose and took a bottle of whisky and two glasses down from the cupboard. He sat down again and screwed the top off the bottle. “I am as much to blame as you,” he said. “If I hadn’t been so anxious to avoid promotion, I would have handled it all myself. But Elspeth pointed out that we’re forgetting Mary Hendry killed two people. All she had to do was report Felicity. Felicity would have been banged up and we’d never even have looked at Mary. Have a dram.”

“Thanks. So we’ll never really know quite how the murder of Crystal was done.”

“I think Felicity had it well planned. I think she was waiting on the Lochdubh road, on a quiet stretch, not far outside Strathbane. I think maybe she left her own car in Lochdubh, say the evening before, and took the bus back. There’s a bus leaves at seven in the evening. I can check that, just out of curiosity. So, she waits until she sees the green BMW coming along. Maybe she phoned from a call box and asked Crystal when she was leaving. She sees Crystal coming along and flags her down. Says something like her car’s broken down and she had started to walk. Then maybe she says something like, your tyre’s flat at the front. Crystal gets out to have a look. Felicity stuns her with a tyre iron or something. Crystal may have staggered a bit before collapsing in the heather at the side of the road. Felicity heaves her into the backseat, puts on the hat and glasses, and drives like hell. First she thinks of the Glenanstey road, but remembers the back road at Lochdubh and how it’s never used. During that Gaelic programme of hers, she must have picked up a lot of local knowledge.

“She drags Crystal out and pushes her into the front seat and then arranges the suicide and goes about her interviewing. She must have got a shock when Mary Hendry told her she had seen her. Mary must have found it a relief after all this time to be able to confide in a fellow murderer. We’ll never know exactly, but to my mind, that’s probably the way it happened.”

Carson surveyed him. “I went through all your notes again, Hamish. Before, I could understand you wanting to live here. Nice, simple life. But there’s a nasty picture comes out, of brutal marriage, petty crime, and nasty little secrets. It’s no different from Strathbane, really.”

“There are right nice people here,” said Hamish defensively.

Carson gave him a sly smile. “Your girlfriend’s a fine lassie.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Why not? Taken a vow of celibacy?”

“Och, I’m off women at the moment.”

“The trouble about being off women,” said Carson, “is that when a stunner comes along, you never even notice her.”

“You speak from experience?”

“I was getting over an affair away back when. I said I’d never look at another woman again. But I had to take someone to the police ball in Inverness, so I asked a neighbor’s daughter, Anna. I didn’t really notice her, until all the other fellows at the ball seemed fair taken with her. That opened my eyes. She’s now my wife and we’ve been happily married for twenty years. Imagine if I had let such a chance slip!”

“So you’re going back to Inverness.”

“Yes.” He drew out a card. “That’s my home address and telephone number. If you ever feel like coming down to see us, you’d get a right welcome.”

“Thanks.”

“So am I forgiven?”

“Och, yes. We just have to forgive ourselves.”

Carson drained his glass and stood up. “Take my advice and don’t let that lassie get away.”

When he had gone, Hamish pulled forward a copy of the
Highland Times
. He wondered how Elspeth’s horoscopes were getting on. “Libra,” he read. “There are none so blind as cannot see. You are at a crossroads in your life. One road leads to romance and companionship, the other to solitary loneliness. Which will you take?”

The trouble was, thought Hamish, that he had been pushing Elspeth away because he kept imagining commitment and marriage. There had been no reason to be so heavy. Nothing to stop him having a light and enjoyable romance and seeing where it led.

He went through to the bedroom and laid out his best suit. Then he had a long hot bath and washed and dried his red hair until it shone with purple lights. He dressed carefully, patted Lugs, and went along to Patel’s where he bought a large box of chocolates.

He then headed for Elspeth’s flat. He was nearly there when under the greenish pools of light cast by the lamps on the waterfront, he saw her walking toward him. She was on the arm of George Earle. They were laughing together. George’s face was radiant. They had not seen him.

Hamish leapt over the nearest garden hedge and crouched down. “Come on, Elspeth,” he heard George say. “What about coming back to Inverness? You could maybe get a job on the
Courier
.”

“I might at that,” Elspeth replied. “This is a bit of a dead-alive hole. Nothing ever happens here.”

Except two murders, thought Hamish bitterly.

A voice behind him made him jump. “What are you doing in my garden, Hamish Macbeth!”

Nessie Currie stood looking down at him, her arms folded across her aproned chest.

Hamish straightened up and handed her the large box of chocolates. “I wanted to surprise you. These are for you.”

“Oh, Hamish. Thank you. I never guessed. I mean, an old woman like me. Mind you, there was this interesting article in
Elle
magazine about summer-winter relationships…”

“Nessie!” called her sister. “What is happening out there, out there?”

“Nothing,” called Nessie. She winked at Hamish and smiled roguishly. “Let it be our secret.”

Hamish let out a squawk of alarm and jumped back over the hedge and headed away as fast as he could.

He went straight to the Brodies’ cottage. Angela let him in. “What’s up, Hamish? You’re all flustered. Come in.”

“You’ve got to help me, Angela. I’m in a right mess.”

He followed her into the kitchen and told her about his meeting with Nessie Currie. Angela laughed until the tears streamed down her cheeks.

When she had finished laughing, Hamish said, “How do I get out of it?”

“I don’t think this Elspeth is having a romance with this George person. Yes, he’s staying with her, but she’s got a female friend staying there as well. I would watch until he leaves and then go and tell Elspeth what happened. Ask her to look like your girlfriend to help you out. That way Nessie will feel she’s been jilted for a young woman, and as she thinks you’re a Lothario anyway, she’ll only be nasty for a bit. Then with Elspeth playing at your girlfriend, you’ll get to know her better and it might turn into the real thing.”

“I’ll try.”

“His car’s a Volvo, parked outside her flat. I’ll let you know if I see him leave.”

Angela phoned at lunchtime the following day to say that she had just seen George loading an overnight bag into the Volvo and drive off. He had Elspeth’s girlfriend with him.

Hamish was about to leave the police station when he saw Nessie heading purposefully in his direction. He ran up the back way, vaulting over dry stone walls, across muddy fields, and so in a large circle and then back down into the village again.

He ran to the newspaper office. Sam said that Elspeth was over in Drim, covering a concert, but was expected back at any moment.

Hamish waited and waited. The light was fading fast. The sun went down about two in the afternoon, now the winter nights had set in.

At last he saw her car driving up outside and rushed out to meet her.

“Hamish,” said Elspeth. “Are you waiting for me?”

“Yes, I need to talk to you.”

“Can it wait until I’ve typed out my report?”

“Yes, I’ll wait for you. Don’t be long.”

Hamish sat down in the reception area of the newspaper office. It was great to finally take action. Time to go on living. After an hour, she came out. “Now what is it?”

“Let’s walk a bit and I’ll explain.”

They went outside. There was a full moon, and the black sky was thick with stars.

“It’s like this, Elspeth,” said Hamish, stopping and looking down at her.

“You’re so serious. Not another murder?”

“God forbid. No, I’ve done something daft. You see…”

“Hamish!” cooed a voice.

He stiffened. There was Nessie Currie leering up at him. “I left a casserole for you on the kitchen step…darling,” she said. “Come along.”

Elspeth stared at Hamish.

“Can’t it wait, Nessie?” he said desperately.

“No, come quickly before Jessie sees us.” She hooked a surprisingly powerful arm in his and began to drag him away.

Hamish twisted his head back and looked at Elspeth.

“Hamish Macbeth,” she said clearly, “you’re
weird
.”