M.C. Beaton - Death of a Dreamer

“It’s a new one for you, Hamish. You see, I don’t think you’ve come across someone so completely amoral as Jock Fleming before. It is my opinion he would screw the cat.”

“Has he made a pass at you?”

“Not even a flicker. It’s my money he’s after. And there’s a point: You say drugs were found? Maybe Jock’s a drug addict.”

“I don’t believe it. Neither Jock nor Dora shows the slightest sign of drugs – unless you count alcohol as a drug. I think someone really did plant it there and someone very clever who knew that with the sun shining through those cheap curtains, the envelope would be spotted.”

“So either someone knew about the fire door or someone managed to get in during the day unseen. How could they do that?”

“Mrs. Dunne doesn’t lock the outside door during the day. It took a strong nerve to sneak in there and calmly sit sewing that envelope into the curtains. I’d better ask around again. Maybe someone saw someone going into Mrs. Dunne’s who doesn’t live there.”

“There’s something mad, calculating, and cunning about our murderer,” said Priscilla. “And somehow, though Jock may not be the murderer, it’s something to do with him. Unless, of course, Effie’s sister is right and she really did commit suicide and Hal’s wife knew about his will and decided to finish him off before he got married to whoever he was talking about.”

“That’s if there was another woman,” said Hamish. “He could just have been saying that out of malice.”

“And yet he went out in the middle of the night to meet someone.”

“Could be someone from his past, someone we don’t know about.”

“What about Betty Barnard?”

“Hard to imagine,” said Hamish stiffly. “Oh, well, I’d better get off and start questioning people. That means starting with the Currie sisters, since they’re next door to Sea View.”

♦

Hamish started by questioning Nessie Currie, mentally editing out the Greek chorus that was her sister.

“I saw no one going in there that shouldnae be going in there,” said Nessie. “There was just the folks that live there when I looked and the postie.”

“What time of day did you see the postie?”

“Must have been about lunchtime yesterday.”

“But the postman only delivers at nine in the morning.”

“Then it must have been a special delivery because he walked right in.”

“Did you see him come out?”

“I’ve got more to do with my day than stand on my doorstep and watch people.”

“What did this postman look like?”

“Tall. One of thae baseball caps. Couldn’t see his face.” It could have been easy for someone to masquerade as a postman, thought Hamish. Navy clothes, a canvas bag, and a baseball cap pulled well down. Must have known Dora Fleming wasn’t due back for a while. So we’re looking for a man. Maybe it’s Jock, after all.

He thanked Nessie and went along the waterfront, questioning one villager after another. A few had seen the postman. He had arrived on a bicycle, but they could not add anything further to Nessie’s description of him.

Then Hamish remembered that the hotel had a few bicycles for use by more energetic guests.

He headed back to the hotel and asked the manager if he could take a look at the bikes.

“Go and take a look yourself,” said Mr. Johnson. “They’re in a shed by the kitchen door. It’s not locked during the day. No one’s taken one out for months.”

Hamish went round to the back of the hotel. He could hear the clatter of dishes from the kitchen. He went to the shed and opened the door. There were six mountain bikes.

At first, they all seemed to be clean and oiled. The roads had been dusty. He went from one to the other. The one at the end had a thin film of dust on it. Need to get this fingerprinted, he thought. Things are looking bad for Jock.

He went back to the mobile unit to meet Robin. Her face was flushed, and she looked as if she had been crying.

Robin had gone to Strathbane to see Daviot. He had received her coldly. Robin asked him what had happened between them, and he had said his affair with her had been nothing but a bit of dangerous folly and that he loved his wife.

Upset and furious, Robin tried to hint that she could make life difficult for him if the affair ever came to light.

“If you do that,” Daviot had said, “I will deny everything. I should never have got mixed up with a harpy like you. I am arranging for you to be transferred to Inverness. You start there next week. My secretary will give you the details.”

Robin knew she was beaten. If she did make the affair public, then she would be found to be the guilty one in the chauvinistic world of the police force.

She seemed barely to listen when Hamish told her about the bicycle and suggested they both go to Strathbane to interrupt Jimmy’s interview.

“You go,” she said. “I’ll keep on asking questions.”

♦

Robin wandered along the waterfront. The air was close and warm, and midges stung at her cheeks and bare arms. She stopped to slap at them when she heard herself being hailed by Elspeth. “You should go to Patel’s and get some repellent,” said Elspeth. “In the meantime, have some of mine.”

“Thanks.” Robin took the stick from her and applied it.

“How’s the case going?” asked Elspeth.

“Who cares?” said Robin bitterly. “I’m sick of the police. You know, I always thought policemen would be honourable, but they’re just rats like any other men. Take you to bed one night and claim the moral high ground the next. Makes me sick.”

She handed back the repellent and strode off, leaving Elspeth staring after her in dismay.

Faithless, philandering Hamish, thought Elspeth bitterly. She went back to the local newspaper office and phoned the news editor in Glasgow.

“Things have ground to a halt up here,” she said.

“We could do with you back in Glasgow,” said the editor. “But your colour pieces have been very good. What about a piece on that local copper? File it and then come back. We can always send you up again if anything breaks.”

Elspeth switched on her laptop and began to write. Her fingers seemed to fly across the keyboard.

♦

Hamish pulled Jimmy out of an interview to tell him about the postman and the hotel bicycle which looked as if it had been used.

“What are they playing at?” asked Jimmy, meaning Jock and his wife.

“I cannae see that either Jock or Dora would put those drugs in Dora’s room. Why should they?”

“I’ll get someone to check with the post office and see if there was any delivery made to Sea View that day. Get back to Lochdubh and see if you can find out more.”

“Will you have to release them ”

“I’ll need to release Jock when six hours are up, but I can hang on to Dora with a drugs charge.”

“Get the medical examiner to look at both of them,” said Hamish. “I’ll bet anything you don’t find a single bit of evidence of drugs.”

“She could have been selling the stuff.”

“Who to? It’s mostly alcohol here and a bit of pot. Why come up here to sell drugs when she could be doing a roaring trade in Glasgow?”

“Anyway, go back and check. Meanwhile, the FBI are checking Hal’s background. They’ll let us know if he had any enemies.”

♦

Hamish did not immediately head back. He wanted to walk and think. There was something tugging at the back of his mind. He felt that if he could get to it, he might have an inkling about the identity of the murderer.

He wandered past shops and pubs, lost in thought.

The sky above was changing from grey to black. Thunder coming, thought Hamish. I hope it clears the air.