Hamish Macbeth - Death Of A Dustman Part 16

"No. I'm too worried about the chef to think about anything else."

"I might have another word with Heather Darling. Is she on duty?"

"She's left."

"Why?"

"Didn't say."

"I'd better go and see her."

When Hamish drove off, he could see Priscilla working in the shop. What had happened to the days when they used to discuss his cases? Somewhere inside her, she had retreated even further from him.

He was driving slowly along the waterfront when he saw Nessie Currie working in her garden. He stopped and climbed down.

"Lazing about as usual?" asked Nessie, stooping to pull out a weed.

That remark irritated Hamish enough for him to say angrily, "I believe you're hiding something from me."

"And what makes you think that?" she demanded tartly.

But there was a certain shiftiness about her that made Hamish decide to use Blair's tactics. "If you'll chust step along to the station with me," he said.

"Why? Why should I?"

"I want to take down a statement from you that you never saw Fergus Macleod on the night he was killed, and I want you to swear on the Bible that you are telling the truth!"

She stared up at him, her eyes magnified by her thick gla.s.ses. Hamish stared back, his normally genial face hard and set.

"You'd best come in the house."

Hamish followed her in. "Where's your sister?"

"Along at Patel's."

Hamish removed his cap, sat down and took out his notebook. "Right, Nessie, let's have it."

"I didn't want to get him into trouble, such a decent wee man."

"Who?" demanded Hamish.

"Archie Maclean."

"And when and where was this?"

"It must've been the night Fergus was killed. I went up the back for a bit o' fresh air. I saw them up on the grazing."

"Were they arguing? Fighting?"

"No."

"And then what?"

"Fergus went away over the back, and Archie walked down past the house here."

"Why the h.e.l.l didn't you tell me this afore?"

"It wasn't important."

"A man's murdered and you're the only witness for that evening, and you thought it wasn't important?"

"There's no need to shout at me like that, Hamish Macbeth. I used my intelligence, which is something you should try. Archie Maclean. As decent a body that ever lived in Lochdubh."

"I want you to come to the police station tomorrow and make a statement."

"Why tomorrow?"

Because tomorrow, thought Hamish, I bring the whole house of cards, of subterfuge and coverup, down around the ears of everyone.

"Because I'm busy today," he said stiffly.

He drove to the police station and left the Land Rover and then went in search of Archie. Archie Maclean, he thought bleakly. Archie with his tight suit and bullying wife was part of the scenery of Lochdubh. He was a kind and gentle man. But just what if Fergus had found something out about him and threatened to tell Mrs. Maclean? The only thing in the whole wide world that frightened Archie was his wife.

When he saw Archie sitting on the harbour wall, he wondered for the first time when Archie slept. He went out fishing at night but was often to be seen wide awake around the village during the day.

"Archie!" Hamish hailed him. "A word with you."

"What about?" asked Archie amiably. He rolled a cigarette, popped it in his mouth, lit it and inhaled smoke. Hamish had a sudden sharp longing for a cigarette.

"I have a witness, Archie, that saw you up on the grazing land on the night Fergus was murdered, and you were seen talking to him."

"Oh, aye? And chust who saw me?"

"Never mind. Chust answer my question. Did you speak to Fergus?"

"Aye."

"You'd better tell me about it, Archie. This is bad."

"I wasnae going to be dragged down tae Strathbane and grilled over that dustman. I had nothing to do with his death."

"Tell me what happened."

"The wife's been after me for drinking. I chust wanted a wee dram in peace and quiet afore I went out with the boat. I thought I'd get a half bottle from Patel's and go up to the grazings. Nice and quiet up there. I was sitting in the heather when I saw Fergus, all dressed up, coming towards me."

"'Sneaking a dram,' he jeered. "Bet your missus would like to know about it.""

"So I stood up, and I told him what I thought of him. I called him a nasty b.u.g.g.e.r. I said the whole village hated him. He chust laughed in that sneering way o' his and said, "Cheer up. I'll soon be leaving the lot of you." Then he headed up through the grazing."

"Any idea where he was going?"

"No."

"Was he sober?"

"Stone cold and nasty with it."

"I'll need to get back to you, Archie. You should have told me this."

Hamish went back to the police station. "Priscilla phoned," said Clarry. "She says her father will see you at seven o' clock this evening."

"Good."

"So I can go?"

"What?"

"The cooking?"

"Oh, sure. But I want you to go first up to the grazings." Hamish told him about Archie Maclean. "Start searching. See if there's any sign of blood. Except we're too late. The rain'll have washed anything away. But try to find something that might point to where he was heading. I'll join you shortly. First, I want a word with someone."

As he walked up to the Darlings' cottage, Hamish heard his stomach rumbling. He was hungry, but this little break had excited him. Food could wait.

There was no answer at the cottage. He stood still for a moment. He felt sure there was someone inside. He turned and walked away out through the garden gate and down the brae. He went a few yards and then whipped round and stared up at the cottage. A curtain twitched.

He marched back up to the cottage door and called through the letter box: "Police! I know you're in there. Open up." Then he waited.

After a few moments, the door opened and Heather Darling peered nervously up at him.

"Why didn't you answer the first time I knocked?" asked Hamish.

"The washing machine was working in the kitchen," said Heather. "I thought I heard something, but I wasn't sure."

"Can I come in?"

She stood back reluctantly and then turned around and led the way into the living room.

"What's this about you leaving the Tommel Castle Hotel?"

"I don't see what that's got to do with the police," said Heather defiantly. "But the fact is I need a rest. Josie's gone back to the bank, and she's got a bittie o' a rise, so she asks me to turn in my job."

Hamish studied her face and then said simply, "You're lying. Somehow I feel that everyone has been lying to me about this and that. Come on, Heather, what happened? Did you have a row with the colonel?"

"I'm telling you, I just needed a rest."

"And I'm telling you," roared Hamish suddenly, "that you are lying and G.o.d help me when I find out why."

And that, he thought privately, was a performance worthy of Blair.

She gave a little shrug and sat down. "I don't like to seem disloyal," she said. "Them up at the castle have been good to me."

"And what does that all mean?"

"I'm starting work at the new hotel in two weeks' time."

"Why?"

"It's all modern and posh."

Hamish sat down and eyed her shrewdly. "More money?"

"Aye, a fair bit more. Anyway, what's it to do with you where I work?"

"Nothing. But when you don't answer the door at first and then you lie to me, I begin to wonder what's behind it. Look here, Heather, I have to keep asking questions and following up everything because time is pa.s.sing fast and if I don't get something today, that letter to Josie from Murdo that was found at Fergus's cottage will have to go to the police."

"Now that everyone knows the wedding's off," said Heather, "Josie won't mind so much."

"Are you sure you're making a good move?" asked Hamish. "I mean, the Halburton-Smythes are good employers. You don't know about this new lot."

"I've got to take a chance."

"But if other staff start to leave, the Halburton-Smythes may be ruined."

"Maybe if they put up the wages, I'll go back."

"Have you looked into this thoroughly? I mean, what are the working terms? Have you any sort of contract? What happens if they suddenly decide to sack you?"

"I'm a good worker."

"So there's good pay and good benefits. How long do they give you for holidays?"

"They said they would discuss all that sort of thing after I had started. You've got to see it from their point of view. They say all new staff will be on a month's trial."

"Surely it's not usual to put a hotel maid on a month's trial?"

"This is big business, you see," said Heather naively. "Mr. Ionides has hotels all over the place. He says if we're good workers, he'll even give us a chance of working in one of his foreign hotels."

"I would be careful if I were you," said Hamish, "and try to get some sort of written agreement. Tommel Castle won't be anxious to have you back after they've gone to all the trouble to replace you."

"It'll be fine. You should see the bedrooms. Gold taps on the bath, pink sheets on the bed. Grand, it is."

"And how did they approach you?"

"I got a letter asking me to come for an interview."