M.C. Beaton - Death of a Gentle Lady

He began to search in the cupboards, taking out old toys and children’s books and setting them aside. If Irena had found anything incriminating, it might have been in the form of a letter. He sat down on the floor and began to shake out all the books. Nothing.

He turned his attention to the toys: jigsaw puzzles, Monopoly, stuffed toys, and a complete Hornby train set in its original boxes. He opened up the boxes and began to lift out the engine and carriages bit by bit. He wondered as he searched if Mrs. Gentle had known just how valuable a set like this was. He opened the door of the guard’s van. Something gleamed black. He inserted his fingers and pulled it out. It was a miniature tape recorder.

He sat cross-legged on the floor and switched it on. Irena’s voice: “But it is dreadful that she should cut you out of her will.” And then Mark’s voice, loud and clear: “I’ll kill that old bitch. She’s doing it out of sheer spite. Well, I’ll spite her. She’ll be dead as a doornail before she changes that will.”

Irena again: “But you would not do anything silly, my darling?”

Mark: “Just you wait and see! Shut up. Someone’s coming.”

Then there was nothing but a long hiss. Hamish switched it off, pulled out his phone, and called Jimmy. “You’d better get up to the castle right away,” he said, then described what he had found. He finished by saying, “Ask to be shown up to the old nursery.”

♦

Not only Jimmy arrived but also his sidekick, Andy MacNab, Superintendent Daviot, and Anna.

“You’d better stay in the doorway in case you want this room searched further,” said Hamish. “Listen to this. I found it in the guard’s van of the toy train.” He switched it on.

“Got him!” cried Jimmy. “Those mechanics of his are from Eastern Europe. He probably told them they would lose their jobs if they didn’t back him up. Let’s go pick him up. Come along, Hamish. We’ll seal off this room for now.”

Hamish stood for a long moment. He looked lost in a daze. Then he shook himself like a dog and followed them downstairs while policemen sealed the door of the nursery.

Outside the castle, he paused again as Mark was being dragged to a police car, protesting his innocence.

“That was good work,” said Daviot. “Would you like to come with us to Strathbane?”

Hamish saw Anna sitting in the leading car.

“I’ll just be off to my station,” he said mildly. “I’ve been neglecting my other chores.”

♦

A mist was descending as he drove to Lochdubh, and when he arrived at the police station Elspeth emerged from the swirling fog. “Get ower to Strathbane,” said Hamish. “They’ve arrested someone. I’m not authorised to tell you anything more.”

Elspeth fled into the mist. Hamish went inside to a welcome from his pets. He lit the stove and made himself a cup of coffee, then sat down at the table and began to worry. Mark’s voice on the tape had not actually confessed to the murder. Certainly it sounded like intention to murder. But then Mark must have been in a foul temper at the news he was to be cut out of the will. People threatened to kill in the heat of the moment. Still, if he had been lying about his alibi and that were proved, then it would seem to cinch the matter.

What about that female in the phone box? Did Mark have an accomplice? Kylie Gentle was tall and thin.

He decided to go to the Tommel Castle Hotel and talk it over with Priscilla. Her cool common sense usually put things in proportion.

He took his cat and dog and left them in the hotel kitchen, where he knew they would be pampered and fed.

Mr. Johnson told him that Priscilla was in the lounge with Harold Jury. Hamish strode in and without preamble said, “I would like a word with you, Priscilla.”

“Do you mind?” demanded Harold. “We were just going through her part.”

“I need a break,” said Priscilla, getting to her feet. “I’ll get back to it later.”

“If you go on like this,” said Harold, “I’ll need to find someone else for Lady Macbeth.”

“Do that very thing,” said Priscilla coldly.

“I didn’t mean…,” Harold began to babble, but Priscilla was already walking off with Hamish.

“Can we go somewhere quiet?” asked Hamish.

“I still have my sitting room. My parents always keep my rooms in the hope I’ll come back.”

“And will you?”

“It’s all right for a bit and then I just want to get to London again.”

Why? wondered Hamish. Who’s there to pull you back?

But he said nothing, only following her into her small, pleasant sitting room.

“I suppose you want coffee,” said Priscilla.

“That would be grand. And maybe a sandwich?”

She picked up the phone and gave the order. “Now,” she asked, “what’s all this about?”

Priscilla was wearing a blue cashmere sweater over a blue cashmere skirt. Her hair was as smooth and golden as ever. Hamish wondered whether she had started to tint it and hoped she had. He felt he would feel more comfortable with a slightly flawed Priscilla.

He told her what had happened, only breaking off when the coffee and sandwiches arrived, and then continuing on.

“So what is troubling you?” asked Priscilla.

“First, the woman in the phone box. Mark is not tall and slim. Second, he may have said all that in the heat of the moment. People do, you know. If his alibi is broken, then they will definitely charge him with murder.”

“What you are trying to say,” said Priscilla as Hamish reached out the long arm of the law for another sandwich, “is that it doesn’t feel right. You think that if Mark had really committed the murder, then you would feel relief.”

“That’s it,” said Hamish eagerly. “I think that if it’s not him, then we’ll still have a murderer on the loose.”

“If Irena taped that bit of conversation and tried to blackmail Mark, then it looks as if Mark might have killed Irena. There might be two murderers. And why just that little bit of tape? She must have had something on Mrs. Gentle to make her pay for the reception and ten thousand pounds as well.”

“There was no wedding car to take her to Inverness, and none ordered,” said Hamish.

“So,” said Priscilla, “if Irena taped that little bit from Mark, doesn’t it stand to reason she might have had something on Mrs. Gentle?”

“Probably. But then, once Mrs. Gentle paid up, she would get the evidence back.”

“Maybe not.”

“Why?”

“It’s not like a blackmailer to let whoever it was she or he was blackmailing off the hook. Hamish, what on earth came over you? It’s not like you to be so taken in.”

“She was beautiful and genuinely seemed to be in distress,” said Hamish. “I thought I was doing a good thing. I thought, here I am still unmarried. She said she was a lesbian.”

“Oh, Hamish!”

“I planned to marry her and then we’d get a divorce later. I suppose she wasn’t even a lesbian. She could have been lying about that. But the real reason was that I knew if I told Daviot I was to be married, he would let me keep my police station. That really was what blinded me to her.”

“Lochdubh is all very well,” said Priscilla. “But it can get very claustrophobic in the winter.”

“Lochdubh has everything a body could want,” said Hamish defensively.

“Ah, well, that’s the difference between us.”

“I wish…,” began Hamish, and then hurriedly crammed another sandwich in his mouth.

Priscilla waited until he had finished eating. “Wish what?”

“Oh, that? I wish I could figure a way to get back into that nursery for another search.”

“You’ll think of something.”

“Are you going back to rehearse with Harold?”