M.C. Beaton - Death of a Poison Pen

♦

When Hamish presented himself at the bank, the teller who had gone in to see the manager reappeared, looking flustered.

“I’m afraid Mr. Simpson isn’t in today.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Where are you going?” she shrieked.

Hamish went straight to the bank manager’s door and opened it. Graham Simpson leapt to his feet. “You’ve got no right to barge your way in here.”

“And you have no right to lie to the police. Sit down. I’ve a few questions for you regarding Amy Beattie. You lied to me.”

“I did not,” blustered the bank manager.

“You said that Peter Stoddart went to Australia when he’s right here in Perth.”

“Is he? Someone must have told me he had gone to Australia.”

“Havers. You had an affair with Amy Beattie, didn’t you?”

“Oh, well, it isn’t a crime. I had a party one night at my house. We all got a bit drunk and Amy damaged a table. We had a row and then made up. We were both very drunk.”

Hamish sat down and surveyed him. He suddenly remembered that poison-pen letter that had been found by Miss Beattie’s body, which read: “I have proof that you’re a bastard. Your father never married your mother and I’ll tell everyone.”

He had never been able to see the point of that letter. Miss Beattie’s parents were married. But what if that letter had been sent to someone else, and that someone else had been so frightened that it had led to murder.

In a level voice, he asked, “So when did she tell you she was pregnant?”

“I’m a respectable man,” he began.

“Forget it. You can stay a respectable man unless you go on blocking my enquiries.”

Graham Simpson bowed his head. Hamish thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but at last he said in a low voice, “What a mess. She somehow managed to get a note to me three months later. She said she’d been missing her periods. She said her parents would kill her. I thought about it for a week and worried about it. Then I told my parents. They said I had to marry Amy, do the decent thing. I was going to go round there, but her parents arrived at our home and started shouting that Amy had run away and where was she? We couldn’t help them. Another week went by and I plucked up courage to go and call on them. They said they had a letter from Amy saying she never wanted to see either of them again. Her parents said they had struck her name from the family Bible and she was no longer any daughter of theirs. I never heard from Amy again.”

“Are you telling me the truth this time?”

“I swear to God. This could ruin me if it gets out.”

“If you didn’t kill anyone, it’s certainly not going to ruin you. How could an affair with a girl all those years ago ruin you?”

Hamish left the bank and climbed into the Land Rover. He took out his mobile phone to check for messages. There was a text message from Jimmy Anderson. It read: “Get your arse over to Cnothan fast. There’s been a break-in at the grocer’s.”

Like Jimmy, Hamish saw a way of covering up his visit to Perth. He switched on the blue light and the siren, no longer caring if the Perth police saw him, and broke the speed limit all the way north to Cnothan.

Although Jimmy had called before him, he had made only a cursory inspection before speeding off. Hamish found that the shop had a security camera and after studying the film was able to make out the features of two of the local youth. He arrested them and drove them down to Strathbane, where they were formally charged and told to appear in the sheriff’s court in a month’s time.

By the time he got to Lochdubh, he realised he hadn’t eaten all day and neither had Lugs. As usual, he fed the dog first before scrambling some eggs for himself. He was just sitting down at his computer when Elspeth walked in.

“Do you never knock?” he asked angrily.

“Come on. Out with it. I helped you, remember?”

“Oh, all right. Sit down and be quiet.”

“Wait a bit,” said Elspeth. “What’s that about Archie seeing a seventeen-year-old lurking near the post office?”

“I’ve thought about that. It could have been someone much older. All Archie could really describe were the clothes.”

“Where were you today?”

“Down in Perth.”

“Find out anything?”

“Keep it to yourself. I found out why Amy Beattie ran away from home.”

“Why?”

“She was pregnant.”

“Goodness,” said Elspeth. “Was it Stoddart?”

“No, it was the bank manager, Graham Simpson.”

“So where’s the child?”

“Elspeth,” said Hamish angrily, “if I knew that, I’d…” He suddenly gazed blankly at the computer screen.

“What?” demanded Elspeth.

“I’m thinking about that letter, the one found with Miss Beattie’s body. It said: “I have proof that you’re a bastard. Your father never married your mother and I’ll tell everyone.” What if that was a letter sent to someone else? Let me think. Chust suppose for a minute Miss Beattie’s child is alive and well in Braikie. Adopted, maybe. The adopted parents are desperate to protect the child and intercept that letter sent to the child.”

“But if they adopted the child, they had nothing to fear. Doesn’t add up, Hamish.”

“You’re right. Shut up and let me go back over my notes.”

“When did Miss Beattie arrive in Braikie?”

“Folks say about sixteen years ago. I said shut up, Elspeth.”

Elspeth sat quietly and impatiently. Then Hamish said, “Why did you ask when she arrived in Braikie?”

“I was thinking of the one person who seems to have caused strong emotions and she’s sixteen.”

They looked at each other and both said at the same time, “Penny Roberts!”

“Miss Beattie had changed a lot in appearance,” said Hamish. “Billy said she had survived cancer. But in the early photographs she’s attractive, and Graham Simpson used to be a good-looking young man. Now, Mr. and Mrs. Roberts are far from lookers. I remember wondering how they had managed to produce such a beauty. What if Miss Beattie wanted to claim her daughter? What if Miss Beattie wanted Penelope to know that she was her real mother? What if Miss McAndrew had found out the secret of Penelope’s birth?”

“That would certainly tie the two murders together,” said Elspeth slowly. “Miss McAndrew may have guessed the truth. She wanted Penny to go to university. Just suppose she threatened to tell Penny the name of her real mother unless they helped her get Penny to university?”

“The problem is how to go about it,” said Hamish. “If I tell all my suppositions to Blair, he’ll demand evidence and I haven’t got any.”

“Someone must have known Miss Beattie was pregnant when she arrived.”

“Not necessarily. She did some cleaning work when she first arrived. What if she cleaned for the Robertses and blurted out her secret? Maybe Mary Roberts had always wanted a child. Maybe she arranged that she would masquerade as the pregnant one while Miss Beattie went away somewhere arranged by her. The baby is born. Mary Roberts discards the cushion she’s been wearing and produces the newborn baby. I’d better start by going to see them in the morning.”

Elspeth heard a sound. She held up a hand. “Did you hear something?”

They listened but could only hear the sound of the wind.

♦

Jenny crept away from the police station, her heart beating hard. She had entered the police station hoping for a word with Hamish. Elspeth had left the door open. Jenny heard the sound of voices coming from the office and decided to listen.

Here was a story! What if she could find out the truth herself and tell Pat? She looked at her watch. Nearly eleven o’ clock.