M.C. Beaton - Death of a Witch

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Returning from a foreign holiday, Hamish Macbeth is worried because he senses a dark cloud of evil hanging over the Highland village of Lochdubh. He learns that a newcomer, Catriona Beldame, is regarded as a witch and various men have been seen visiting her. Hamish himself is charmed by her until he finds out she has been supplying dangerous potions. At first the villagers won’t listen to him, saying that the loveless Hamish has turned against all women. He threatens to kill her so that when she is found murdered, he must clear his name and then work to solve yet another murder to bring peace and quiet back to his beloved village. His investigations are complicated by a romance with a female forensic expert. Perhaps he’ll get married at last!

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Oh, I wanted proof. I wanted something against her to open his eyes to what she was really like. I went in search of Wayne. He was older than Catriona and working at a garage out on the Inverness Road. Well, he tried to deny even having been at the house! Then he said it had all been a joke.”

“Where is he now?”

“He married a local lass a whiles back. I remember seeing the wedding in the local paper. He was a motor mechanic so maybe he’s in the same job. I always wonder if he was the one that stole the money.”

“What money?” asked Elspeth.

“It was the night of the day that Wayne had come to the house. Someone broke in during the night and stole five hundred pounds that Horace had in his desk. He kept it to pay workmen off the books. I know it sounds bad that a churchman should pay workers off the books but a lot of them, because of the VAT and the health and safety regulations, won’t work unless it’s for cash. The police were called. The lock on the front door had been jemmied open. Horace couldn’t understand why he didn’t wake because he was aye a light sleeper. You know what I think? I think that bitch from hell gave him some sort of sleeping pill and stole the money herself.”

“Did you tell the police any of this?” asked Hamish. “I don’t remember anything in the report.”

“No, it was a young female detective wi’ a snippy way about her. I don’t think she wanted to bother listening to me.”

After they had left her, Hamish said they should start asking at all the garages they could find and see if they could trace Wayne Abercrombie.

They were lucky the first time. He was still working at the garage out on the Inverness Road.

He was a tall man with a thick thatch of brown hair and a pleasant tanned face. But on hearing that they wanted to ask him about Catriona, he scowled and said it was all in the past and he had to get on with his work. Only Hamish’s threat to take him down to the police station made him sigh and say, “Let’s get out of here. I’ll tell them I’m taking a break and it’s about a stolen car.”

He came back shortly and stripped off his oily overalls. “Let’s go over to the pub,” he said.

Over a pint of beer, he reluctantly began his story. “Catriona was a wild one. I swear to God she seduced me. I mean, she was still a schoolgirl and her father a minister, but she got me fair worked up. Then she told me she was pregnant and I would have to marry her. I didn’t want to. There was something about her that frightened me. But I thought I’d better do the decent thing and call on her and see her father as well because she said if I didn’t marry her she would get an abortion. He wouldn’t believe me and said he’d call the police.

The next day, Catriona turns up here and hands me five hundred pounds and tells me to keep my mouth shut and that never to tell anyone we had had sex. I asked about the baby. She sneered and said there wasn’t any baby. She just wanted to get married and get out of that house.”

“When did you last see her?” asked Hamish.

He hung his head.

“Out with it?” said Hamish sharply.

“A chap came in for repairs, a tourist, and we got to talking. He was an Australian. He said the villages were fascinating and one even had a resident witch. Her name was Catriona Beldame and he had a photo of her. I suddenly wanted to see her. I wanted to know if perhaps she really had been pregnant and had our child. So I went up there.”

“When?” demanded Hamish sharply.

“It must have been the week afore she was murdered. She was very bitter.”

“In what way?”

“She blamed everyone, starting with her father. Then she blamed me for seducing a schoolgirl. I pointed out she had seduced me and that’s when she got furious and started screaming at me to get out. That’s all. I swear I had nothing to do with her murder.”

Hamish took him through the other three murders but he had cast-iron alibis for all of them.

“Will this need to come out?” he asked. “I don’t want the wife to know.”

“I’ll try to keep it quiet,” said Hamish.

“So what do you think of what we’ve got so far?” asked Elspeth over lunch.

“Not much,” said Hamish gloomily. “I had great hopes of Wayne.”

“Might be him after all.”

“I’m sure not. I don’t want to alert Jimmy to the fact that I’m in Perth where he told me not to go.”

“That Nicoise salad of yours is going to wilt if you don’t eat it, Hamish.”

“I keep thinking I ought to eat more healthy food and yet when I get it, my appetite goes away.”

“I can put you on my expenses. Send it back and order a steak.”

“It’s a waste.”

“I’m only having salad, so I can eat two.” Elspeth called over the waiter and ordered Hamish a T-bone steak and chips.

“If only Catriona had been a nice person like Ina Braid. So many people must have wanted to murder her,” mourned Hamish.

“Now, there’s a thing. What about Ina Braid? Surely the only reason she was murdered was because she knew something. She must have said something to her husband. Let’s go back and see him.”

“I’ve just remembered,” said Hamish. “Ina’s funeral is this afternoon. I’ll ask for a doggy bag and take the steak with me. We’ve got to be there.”

“It’s only on the TV that murderers turn up at funerals, Hamish.”

“I’d still like to be there.”

When they arrived, the church service was over and everyone was at the graveside. The whole village had turned out.

“Are you coming to the village hall afterwards?” asked Angela, appearing beside them. “The women decided that Fergus couldn’t cope with the entertaining and so they’re organising the funeral baked meats for him.”

“We’ll take a look in. I’d better contribute some whisky if Patel has any left. How’s Fergus coping?”

“He’s pretty shattered. It all seems to have finally hit him hard.”

When the graveside ceremony was over, Elspeth and Hamish bought a bottle of whisky and followed the black-clad figures to the hall. At other funerals, people might now turn up in colours, but Lochdubh kept to the tradition of funereal black.

At the hall, Tilly Framont came up to Hamish, her eyes wet with tears. “I’ve lost my best friend,” she said.

“Did Ina not tell you something about the murder of Catriona?” asked Hamish.

“No, all she said was ‘good riddance.’ And she wasn’t a secretive woman.”

Tilly moved away.

Nessie Currie then approached them. Jessie was over at the buffet, loading up a plate with sandwiches.

She glared at Elspeth. “Thon was a really stupid set of horoscopes,” she said.

Was it Hamish’s imagination, or was there not a sudden silence all around? People were still talking but he had an uneasy feeling that someone close by had been shocked by what Nessie had said.

“Sorry about that,” said Elspeth, “but Angus was off sick and I did the best I could.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself, meddling with people’s star signs. I’m a Scorpio.”

“You are that,” said Hamish and led Elspeth off to the buffet.

“How long is this guard of yours to go on?” asked Elspeth.

“I’ll try to look after you for as long as possible, but for my sake and your own, try to get off to Glasgow soon.”

A splash of colour appeared in the doorway of the hall. “Oh, look, it’s your girlfriend,” said Elspeth. “I’m off to circulate. I’ll have to report on this. I see my photographer’s got a glass in his hand. I’d better find out whether he got some decent pictures before he gets too drunk.”

Lesley, wearing a cherry-red coat, joined Hamish. “What are you doing here?” asked Hamish.

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