M.C. Beaton - Death of a Witch

“Drink your tea,” said Perry, “and I’ll get on with packing things up.”

Now that there seemed nothing further to find out, Elspeth could only marvel at Perry’s patience as he deftly wrapped kitchen stuff and other odds and ends and put them into packing cases.

When they eventually left, Perry said, “Now I really am starving.”

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” said Elspeth. “Clarry, the chef, will rustle something up for you.”

♦

Hamish was sitting in the lounge with Priscilla when Elspeth and Perry entered. Elspeth’s face was flushed and her eyes were shining. Her face fell when she saw Priscilla. She waited for the inevitable. Perry would forget all about her and be fascinated by Priscilla.

She introduced Perry to Priscilla and said, “Perry’s desperate for something to eat.”

Priscilla rose to her feet. “What about soup and a plate of sandwiches?”

“That would be great.”

“I’ll tell Clarry.”

When Priscilla had left, Elspeth said, “I thought you’d be out trying to find out where Fergus really was.”

“We were just going over my notes,” said Hamish defensively. Perry and Elspeth sat down.

“Could he have been with a woman?” asked Elspeth. “He wouldn’t want to say so, would he? I mean with his wife just dead.”

Hamish stared at her for a long moment. “The brothel,” he said. “What if Fergus was one of Fiona McNulty’s clients? He wouldn’t have the time to go all the way over to Bonar Bridge. And she was still in Cnothan when Ina was murdered. Maybe he went to Cnothan where she used to be. I’ll get down to the newspaper and get a photograph of him from Matthew and see if anyone over there saw him.”

He almost expected Elspeth to volunteer to go with him, but she said ‘Good idea’ and settled back in her chair.

♦

Having secured a photograph, Hamish was driving towards Cnothan when his mobile phone rang. He stopped at the side of the road and answered it. It was Lesley. “This is short notice, Hamish,” she said. “I wonder whether you would like to come over to my place tonight for dinner?”

Hamish thought rapidly. Priscilla was as cool as ever, and Elspeth seemed enamoured of the feature writer. “What time?” he asked.

“Eight o’ clock. Here’s the address.”

Hamish wrote it down. “See you then,” he said, and rang off.

He drove up to where the mobile home used to be and once more called at the croft where the gnome-like man lived. He showed him Fergus’s photograph but the man shook his head.

Hamish tried several of the other outlying crofts but without success. The trouble was, he thought, that to get to the mobile home, Fergus would not have needed to go through the town.

Then he had an idea. If Fergus had been in the habit of visiting Fiona, would he have known that she would have a supply of condoms, or, on his first visit, would he call in at the chemist in Cnothan to get a packet?

He drove into town and went to the chemist. The pharmacist, Mr. Hepworth, was standing behind the counter with a young female assistant. Hamish showed them the photograph of Fergus and asked if they could remember him ever buying condoms.

Mr. Hepworth shook his head but the girl giggled and said, “Oh, I mind him.”

“Tell me about it,” urged Hamish.

“He looked around for a long time. Then he bought toothpaste. Then he wandered around again. The condoms are right here on the counter. He kept staring at them as he was paying for the toothpaste and his face was bright red and he was sweating although it was a cold day. I took pity on him so I picked up a packet and said, “Can I wrap this for you as well?” He said, “Aye,” paid for them, and fairly fled out of the shop. I mind it well ‘cos I had a good laugh about it with my friends that evening.”

“When was this?” asked Hamish.

“Last September. I can’t remember the exact day.”

Hamish took a note of her name and address and then left, deep in thought.

Fergus had been in the habit of visiting Fiona. That was where he might have been on the afternoon his wife was being murdered.

He went back to the police station, collected Sonsie and Lugs, and drove to Strathbane.

He stopped in the car park and phoned Jimmy. “What is it?” asked Jimmy. “I’ve finished for the day and I want to get to the pub.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

♦

In the pub, Jimmy listened carefully and then said bitterly, “Trust you to throw a spanner in the works. If you want to make my life even more miserable, talk to her.”

He pointed to a woman at a corner table who was working on a laptop. “That’s Fergus’s lawyer, Agnes Dunne. She’s all set to get him out on bail. I’ll just stay here and get drunk.”

Hamish approached Agnes Dunne. She was a hatchet-faced woman in her forties wearing a power suit.

“Yes?” she demanded.

Hamish sat down opposite her and told her about Fergus’s visits to Fiona. “Get him to say that’s where he was and if he told anyone at work where he was going and if he maybe went into the town afterwards and might have been seen in one of the shops.”

She switched off her laptop and closed it down. “Come with me,” she said, “although I hope they don’t try to pin the murder at Bonar Bridge on him now.”

♦

Jimmy swallowed his drink and went with them. To Hamish’s relief, Blair was nowhere in sight. The duty officer led the way down to the cells in the basement.

Fergus was sitting with his head in his hands. He looked up when they entered.

Hamish sat down on the bed and faced him.

“You’re a right fool, Fergus. Why didn’t you just tell the truth? I now know you were visiting Fiona McNulty.”

“You cannae tell anyone, Hamish,” exclaimed Fergus. “Oh, man, the shame o’ it. They’ll never let me inside the kirk again.”

“Listen to me, Fergus. You have been charged with the murder of your wife. I am sure they are trying to pin the other murders on you as well. You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison if you don’t speak up now. Now, on the day of Ina’s murder, did you go to Fiona?”

“Aye,” he mumbled.

“Now, think very carefully. Did you go into the village?”

“Aye, I did that. I’ll never forget it. I thocht she might say something.”

“Who? Where?”

“It was after…you know…I went into that café on the main street and I ordered a mutton pie and peas and some tea.” He looked at Hamish with a sort of bewildered innocence. “It makes ye hungry.”

“Sex?”

“Aye. That lassie, Sky – stupit name – herself was serving. She says, “My dad says you’re getting to be a regular around these parts.” I was that feart, I leapt to my feet and knocked the teapot onto the floor. I threw some money on the table and ran for it.”

“You see how simple it is?” said Hamish. “I’ll get over there right now and check it out.”

♦

Lesley looked with pride at her dinner table. It was set with her finest china and a bottle of good claret nestled in its basket, ready to pour. She had brushed her red-gold hair until it shone. She was wearing a white silk blouse with a low neckline and her late mother’s pearls. Pearl drops hung from her small ears. A black velvet skirt went to ankle length, just showing a pair of high-heeled black patent shoes with thin straps. She was wearing a scarlet thong and wriggled a little with the discomfort of it.

Lesley went into the bathroom and sprayed herself with Givenchy’s Hot. Eight o’clock came and went. She began to pace up and down. She was just about to phone Hamish when the doorbell rang.

She opened the door and stared at Hamish. He was wearing his uniform, and his dog and cat were at his feet.