M.C. Beaton - Death of a Dustman

She clasped her hands and said in a low voice, “You’ve known me a long time, Hamish.”

“Yes.”

“You know I’d never hurt a fly.”

“What have you been keeping from me, Elspeth?”

A sheep bleated nearby and a gust of wind blew around the cottage. The clock ticked away, marking out the seconds of her silence.

“Angus was going to sell me his croft house,” she finally said, “and then, having the house, I was going to apply to the Crofting Commission for the tenancy of the land. He had been saying one day he would do it, then the other that he had changed his mind. I was down in the village, and I saw the phone box and decided to call him before I got home and see if he had come to any decision. He sounded excited, happy, said something had come up. He said he would drive over and tell me. I said I was phoning from the village, and I would see him at my place. I went home and waited and waited. And then I heard he’d been murdered.”

“So why didn’t you tell me or any policeman that it wass you that made the call?”

“I was shocked. I didn’t know the call was important. I was shocked, Hamish,” she repeated.

Hamish sighed. “I may need to take a statement from you, Elspeth. You should neffer have held back information like this.”

“But I had nothing to do with the poor man’s murder!”

“Someone did. It looks as if it was you he was going out to see. Wait a minute, I remember Kirsry saying he had told I her to go away somewhere and leave him for a bit. I mean, why would he do that if he was the one that was going out? I’m sorry, but there’s no way I can keep this bit of evidence quiet.”

“Then you can take yourself off,” said Elspeth. “Just get out of my house. If it’s a choice between your friends and the police, you’ll always stick to the police. You’re a fascist!”

“I’m off,” said Hamish. “But I want you down at the police station at ten o’ clock tomorrow morning.”

As he left, he damned the secretiveness of the locals. What other bits of evidence were some of them keeping from him?

He went back to Kirsty. “What is this?” she demanded angrily. “Haven’t you upset me enough for one day?”

“Kirsty, you never told me Angus was thinking of selling to Elspeth.”

“Oh, that. He changed his mind from day to day.”

“But Elspeth was the one who phoned him, and he told her he was going to drive over and see her. He sounded happy. He said something had come up.”

“I didn’t hear any of that. I’m telling you, he told me to make myself scarce. What did Elspeth phone him about? And why did she call from that box?”

“She happened to be in Lochdubh. Evidently Angus was dithering about selling the house to her.”

“He didn’t mean anything by it. He would get frightened by the debt and then say he was going to sell the place, but he could never make up his mind.”

“Kirsty, a lot of people seem to have been holding back bits of information from me that might help. Are you sure there’s nothing you’re not telling me?”

“What else can I tell you?” demanded Kirsty. “My husband’s been murdered. I’ve been coming to terms with my loss, and now you tell me the murderer is still out there! Oh, go away and leave me in peace.”

Hamish looked down at her and shuffled his large police boots. “I’ll be off now. But I’ll be calling on you again.”

He went back to the Land Rover. “It was that dog of yours,” Kirsty shouted after him. “It’s brought evil.”

Hamish drove off. He realised with a heavy heart that he would need to do the rounds of the people Fergus had been blackmailing in case Angus had taken up his role.

♦

Josie would be at work in Strathbane, so he headed for the banker’s house. Mrs. McClellan answered the door to him. How welcoming everyone was now and how much fear he was going to bring back into their lives.

“Come in,” she said. “I want to thank you so much for keeping that matter quiet. I can sleep at nights now.” He followed her through to the kitchen at the back. “Take a seat. Coffee?”

“Maybe not now,” said Hamish. “I’ve bad news.”

She stood very still.

“It’s Angus’s murder. It seems there’s a good chance he might have been murdered by someone else.”

She sat down abruptly. “But you have that cutting?”

“You’re safe there, for the moment. I still haven’t reported it. You see, Ionides’s pilot, he says his boss had nothing to do with Angus’s murder, and he’s sticking to it. As you’ve probably read in the papers, it was Ionides who killed Fergus, and the pilot helped him dump the body. But there’s still a big question mark hanging over Angus’s death.”

“And I’m a suspect?”

“I just have to start going over all the old ground. Did you know Angus?”

“Only by sight. Angus and Kirsty. I saw them at socials at the church, that sort of thing. I knew both of them to say hullo, but never anything more than that.”

“And Angus never approached you after Fergus’s death?”

“No.”

He looked at her intently. He was sure she was telling the truth.

“Look, a lot of people in this village know things, but they haven’t been telling me because they don’t want to get involved with the police, or because they think they’re protecting each other. If you can remember anything, or hear anything…”

“I’ll let you know.”

♦

Hamish next called on Mrs. Docherty. It was the same thing: the warm welcome changing to distress as he explained the reason for his call.

“Do you still have that dreadful letter?”

“I’m afraid I still have it. I can’t do anything about it until Angus’s murder is cleared up. Have you heard from that man, the travelling salesman?”

“He wrote once more, saying he would be back in Strathbane. I phoned him and told him he had to forget he ever saw me or he would maybe be part of a murder investigation. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“And Angus didn’t approach you in any way?”

“No, he didn’t. But it was a vicious murder. Surely it was done by a man.”

“Any woman with something like a hammer could have done the job.”

She shuddered. “So there’s a murderer out there?”

“Let’s just hope that pilot was lying, but I’ve got to keep trying.”

♦

He waited until evening, when he knew Josie would be home. “Where’s your mother?” he asked as he followed her into the living room.

“Working up at the hotel. She had to beg for her old job back.”

He sat down and told her that the murder of Angus was open again for investigation. Josie stared at him in open-mouthed dismay. “But what’s it got to do with me?”

“It could be that Fergus told Angus who he was blackmailing and Angus might have tried the same thing. He didn’t approach you?”

“No.” Although the living room was cold, there was a sheen of sweat on Josie’s face. She looked frightened to death. “It’ll all come out again,” she said.

“There’s nothing to come out that folks don’t know about,” said Hamish. “Think about it, Josie. You started cancelling the invitations after Fergus was murdered.”

“But Fergus was so pally with Angus. So maybe if someone murdered Angus, they’ll come looking for me.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“But don’t you see, there’s something about me that can drive men mad.”

Hamish looked at her in comical amazement. Then his eyes sharpened.

“Wait a bit, Josie. You said that Fergus was pally with Angus. How do you know that?”

“I just remembered it was one day last summer, I saw them laughing and chatting down by the harbour.”