Death of a Valentine

by M C Beaton

  “It was right after the Lammas fair. His office was being decorated. He took a lot of files and the ballot box along to the bank.”

  “Were any of the councillors particularly interested in Annie?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, she didn’t work here.”

  “What did Mr. Tarry say when you told him about her calling here for an interview?”

  “It slipped my mind. The appointment wasn’t down in the diary.”

  Hamish returned in the evening to his police station, feeling depressed. Josie was waiting for him outside.

  “Have a good time in Perth?” asked Hamish.

  “Yes, thank you. I wondered what we were going to do tomorrow.”

  Hamish thought quickly. He wanted rid of her. “Come in,” he said. He led the way into the office and pointed to a large ordnance survey map on the wall. “I want you to take the Assynt Road between Lochinver and Kylesku. Drop off at each place and ask if everything is all right.”

  “Can’t I help you with the murder enquiries?”

  “It’s large beat we have to cover. Leave the murder enquiries to me.”

  Josie set out the following morning in a sulky mood. But her spirits rose after she left Lochinver and set out on the Assynt Road along the coast. It was a rare calm, sunny day. The Minch lay placid with large glassy waves curling on the shore. She stopped at Drumbeg for a cup of tea and a sandwich, and then stood outside in the car park and breathed in the clear air. The majestic bulk of Quinag mountain rose up to a perfectly blue sky. The majesty of the Highlands seized her for the first time.

  I belong here, she thought fiercely-me and Hamish Macbeth.

  By the time she reached Kylesku by Loch a’ Chairn Bhain and swept over the new road in the direction of Lairg, she was determined to do everything she could to capture Hamish.

  It never entered her mind again that the way to Hamish’s heart might be through some diligent police work. She had not asked at any of the villages along the coast if anyone had anything to report.

  By the time early night had fallen, she pulled to the side of the road, her heart beating hard. She fished in her handbag for the half bottle of whisky she had bought earlier and sat drinking and dreaming. She had the two bottles of laudanum with her. When she returned to Lochdubh, if the police station was empty, she would doctor a glass of whisky. If Hamish arrived while she was in the police station, she would simply say that she had called to report on her day.

  With a lurch in her stomach, she realised she had not talked to anyone in any of the villages. She could only hope Hamish would not ask for names.

  Josie arrived back in Lochdubh at six o’clock. Everyone was indoors having high tea.

  She parked at the manse and made her away over the fields at the back to the police station. It was dark and empty. She let herself in, praying that Hamish’s pets were out somewhere. She was in luck. Nothing moved in the silence of the police station. She switched on a pencil torch and took out a fresh bottle of whisky. She took down a glass, put in a generous measure of whisky, and then poured laudanum into the glass and stirred it up.

  Then she concealed herself at the side of the henhouse, waiting for Hamish to come home.

  She heard the cat flap bang. She hoped one of the animals wouldn’t come out again, sensing her presence. But Sonsie and Lugs were used to Josie by now and knew her smell and didn’t bother to investigate.

  The night was becoming frosty and she shivered, hoping Hamish would not be too long.

  She heard the Land Rover drive up and Hamish’s voice saying, “Come in, Elspeth. I couldnae believe my eyes when I saw you up at the hotel.”

  * * *

  Elspeth followed Hamish into the kitchen. “I’ll just go into the office and see if there are any messages,” said Hamish.

  “I am so tired,” said Elspeth. “I drove all the way from Glasgow. I had to get away.”

  “Be with you in a minute,” called Hamish. “There’s a message here from one of my suspects.”

  Elspeth sat down wearily at the table. She picked up the glass of whisky and began to drink it. When she finished it, she rinsed out the glass and put it away.

  “I’ll light the stove,” she shouted. But she suddenly felt very tired and disoriented. Before her dizzy eyes, she could see the lights of approaching cars that she had seen on her long drive up. She had got to her feet to light the stove, but she sat down again, put her head down on the table, and fell asleep.

  Hamish came in and exclaimed, “Poor lassie. You’re fair worn out.”

  Josie, crouched outside the kitchen window, saw him lift Elspeth in his arms and carry her through to the bedroom.

  She had recognised Elspeth Grant. She had seen her many nights on television. But surely she was no competition. She was going to marry that actor.

  Josie stumbled back across the fields. Before she entered the manse, she took a tube of extra-strong mints out of her pocket and began to chew two of them so that Mrs. Wellington would not smell whisky on her breath.

  Elspeth awoke the next morning and stared around in a dazed way. She threw back the bedclothes. She was wearing only her underwear. What on earth was she doing in Hamish’s bed?

  Her skirt, blouse, and jacket were neatly arranged on a chair beside the bed. She took down Hamish’s dressing gown from a hook at the back of the bedroom door and went in search of him.

  Hamish was in the kitchen, notes spread out in front of him. “Morning, Elspeth,” he said. “That must have been some drive. Sit down and I’ll make coffee.”

  “I don’t know what happened, Hamish,” said Elspeth. “I helped myself to some of your whisky and then went out like a light.”

  “Never mind. You never told me what brought you up here.” There was a tentative knock at the kitchen door. He opened it. Josie stood looking up at him and then past him to where Elspeth was sitting, wrapped in Hamish’s dressing gown. She tried to enter but he blocked her way.

  “Take the day off, McSween,” he said. “I’ve got to go over my notes. I’ll phone you if there’s anything.”

  The door was firmly shut in Josie’s face.

  Josie craved a drink but did not want to buy too much whisky from Mr. Patel in case he gossiped. She got in her car and drove miserably off in the direction of Strathbane.

  “So Elspeth,” Hamish was saying. “Out with it.”

  She clutched the mug of coffee he had poured for her. “I had to get away from the press.”

  “But you are the press. You’re a news presenter.”

  “I’ve broken off my engagement. I wanted it all to be quiet but Paul Darby’s press agent got on to all the papers-I am sure with Paul’s encouragement. He’s very vain.”

  “So why did you get engaged to him?”

  “I was on holiday in the Maldives. All that sun and being away from work and having a handsome man to squire me around. Do you remember when I got jilted at the altar by that fellow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, from time to time, the papers drag that up. I suppose I wanted to show everyone that wee Elspeth Grant could do it. Paul’s a big heartthrob. Of course, he works in England and I work in Scotland, so we had snatched time together, which added to the romance. Then his filming on the soap was over for a bit and he came up and moved in with me. Do you know, Hamish, his cosmetics took up more shelf space than mine?”

  “What, make-up?”

  “No, lotions and hair tonic and fake tan and God knows what else. There was little room for my clothes because he has such an extensive wardrobe. He expected me to play wifie and have meals ready for him and I just didn’t have the time. I finally gave him back his ring. He tried to punch me so I tripped him up so that he fell on his bum. I told him if he ever laid a finger on me I’d call the police. He stormed off to see his press agent in London so I packed all his stuff up and left it with a neighbour, changed the locks, and left a note for him on the door. I had holiday time owing, so I just got in the car yesterday and drove
straight to the Tommel Castle Hotel. I’d better beg Matthew not to put anything in the Highland Times or the press will follow me up here. They’ll find out soon enough, but I want a few days’ peace and quiet.”

  “I’ll make us some breakfast but then I have to leave you, Elspeth. It’s this valentine murder. I have so many suspects, my head’s going round and round. You look glamorous on the telly. Not now with your hair gone all frizzy again. But I like it frizzy.”

  “It can stay a mess while I’m here. I’m sick of hairdressers and beauticians. You know, Hamish, sometimes I wish I’d stuck to that job on the Highland Times. Never mind. Tell me about the case.”

  “I’ll make breakfast first.”

  It was like old times, thought Hamish, as he put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Elspeth. Elspeth looked like old times, too, with her frizzy hair and clear grey Gypsy eyes.

  He began to go over the murder cases.

  When he had finished, Elspeth said, “The main thing is background.”

  “Like what?”

  “You need to dig and dig and find out if any of them have any knowledge in their past about how to make a letter bomb.”

  “Strathbane went through the lot. Nothing.”

  “But,” said Elspeth, “have you got anyone on your list who came up after Strathbane checked?”

  “There’s a point. I’ve been checking on the men. I’ve only recently begun to check on the women.”

  “Now, someone young might not have had the experience,” said Elspeth. “What about this Bill Freemont? Where’s he gone?”

  “I’ll need to ask his wife. But he was checked.”

  “Maybe he knew someone who could do it for him.”

  “Good girl. I’ll get over there and see the wife. Oh, I got a message from young Percy Stane. He thinks he’s got something that might interest me. I’ll call on him on the way back.”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  Hamish hesitated and then said cautiously, “I suppose it’ll be all right. Blair’s given up and the press have gone. Mind, old rules! No reporting on anything unless I tell you to.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Elspeth. “I need a break.”

  The wildlife park had a lost, deserted air about it. Bad weather was moving in from the coast, carrying a metallic smell of snow to come on a rising wind.

  Jocasta was not in the office and so they went up to the house, a small, squat, pebble-dashed bungalow.

  Hamish rang the bell. Elspeth huddled behind him, the collar of her coat pulled up.

  Jocasta answered the door. “What now?” she asked.

  “Just a few questions.”

  “I don’t want any newspeople around,” said Jocasta, recognising Elspeth.

  “Elspeth, wait in the car,” said Hamish. When Elspeth had turned away, Hamish said, “Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.”

  “Just for a minute,” said Jocasta. “I’m packing things up.”

  She ushered him into a cold living room full of packing cases.

  “Do you know where your husband is?” asked Hamish.

  “Unfortunately, I do. He had to give me an address to send on his stuff. I’ll write it down for you. He’s in Edinburgh.”

  Hamish waited until she had written down the address and handed it to him.

  “Would you say that your husband was capable of making a letter bomb?”

  “I would say that my husband was not capable of even mending a fuse,” said Jocasta harshly.

  “What about yourself?”

  “The jealous wife? You can forget that. I was right off Bill even before I knew about Annie. In fact, I’m grateful to that conniving bitch. Makes it easy for me to get a divorce. What is a village bobby doing cruising around the countryside with a member of the rich and famous?”

  “Do you mean Elspeth?”

  “Who else?”

  “Miss Grant is an old friend,” said Hamish stiffly. “When you were packing up Bill’s things, did you find anything like letters from Annie? Anything like that?”

  “Nothing but a lot of unpaid bills that he said he had paid. Look, I am so fed up with him that if I had found there was even a hint of him being a murderer, I would have told you.”

  When Hamish hurried back to the Land Rover, snow was becoming to fall, small pellets driven before the wind.

  “Any joy?” asked Elspeth.

  “Nothing there,” said Hamish. “We’d best get to Braikie while we can. The forecast is bad.”

  He drove north through the whitening landscape. “I forgot it could get like this,” said Elspeth. “Yesterday was so glorious that I didn’t remember that up here, you can get five climates in one day. It’s getting worse. Are you sure you can see?”

  “I’m all right. But I hope the gritters get their trucks out soon.”

  By the time they reached Braikie, the wind had dropped, but the snow continued to fall: large white Christmas card flakes, each one a miracle of cold lace.

  At the town hall, they found that Percy was not in his office. Iona, at the switchboard, said he had stepped out half an hour ago.

  They searched around Braikie in the pubs, in the café, and at the post office, but no one had seen Percy.

  Their search was slowed by people recognising Elspeth and asking for autographs.

  “Let’s have something to eat,” said Hamish, “and then find out where Percy lives.”

  They ate mutton pies and peas in the café and then drove back to the town hall. This time, Hamish asked Jessie Cormack if she knew where Percy had gone. She shook her head and said she had not seen him that morning. But she was able to give them his address.

  Percy lived with his parents in a small, grey stone house on the outskirts of Braikie. A very thin woman with dyed blonde hair answered the door. She looked in alarm at Hamish. “Is my husband all right?”

  “It’s Percy I’ve come about,” said Hamish. “He isn’t in the office. Is he here?”

  She shook her head. “Why are you asking about him?” she demanded. “Has he done something wrong?”

  “Nothing like that. He left a message saying he had some information for me. Did he say anything to you?”

  “He left this morning as usual.” Her eyes widened in fear. “These murders! Do you think something has happened to my boy?”

  “No, no. I am sure he will turn up. I’ll phone you as soon as I find him.”

  “No joy,” said Hamish when he joined Elspeth in the Land Rover. “Where the hell can he have gone? We’d best go back and sit in his office and see if he turns up. I’ll need to let Sonsie and Lugs out for a run first.”

  “What’s the point of having a great flap on your door if you’re going to take your beasties everywhere with you?” demanded Elspeth.

  “You never liked them,” complained Hamish.

  “I like them fine,” said Elspeth. “But to have to look after two peculiar animals in a snowstorm when you’re supposed to be detecting is ridiculous.”

  Hamish glared at her.

  He let the dog and cat out of the back and stood huddled in his coat while they chased each other through the snow. At last he called them back and drove back to the town hall.

  When they sat down in Percy’s office, a bad-tempered silence reigned between them. Elspeth broke it by saying, “Now we’re here, what about searching his desk?”

  “Oh, all right,” said Hamish sulkily.

  He began to turn over every piece of paper on top of the desk and then began to go through the drawers. “There’s something here,” he said, holding up a videotape.

  “Maybe Percy’s back at the police station waiting for you,” said Elspeth.

  “I’ve got a video recorder. I’ll just be leaving a receipt for this.”

  “I didn’t think anyone had video recorders any more,” said Elspeth.

  “Well, now you know.”

  Chapter Nine

  *

  Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame,

  Ga
thering her brows like gathering storm,

  Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

  – Robert Burns

  Back at the police station, Hamish, after he had lit the stove, said, “I’ll make us a cup of coffee and then we’ll have a look at this video. Strathbane won’t get out the men to look for Percy because they say he’s probably gone off somewhere with friends. I’ll just need to hope he’s all right and start searching in the morning.”

  The lights went out. “Damn,” said Hamish. “The snow must have brought a cable down.”

  “I saw a face peering in at the window when the lights went out!” Elspeth exclaimed.

  Hamish ran outside with the dog and cat at his heels. The snow had stopped, but it was freezing hard. He could hear it crunching under the feet of someone fleeing over the hill at the back. He set off in pursuit and brought the fleeing figure down in a rugby tackle.

  “It’s me, Josie,” squeaked a frightened voice from under him.

  Hamish pulled her to her feet. “What were you doing looking in at the kitchen window?” he demanded.

  “I wanted to see what your instructions were for tomorrow,” said Josie, close to tears. “I heard voices and thought I would look in the window and see if you were busy.”

  “You could have knocked,” said Hamish angrily. “Get back to the manse and wait there until I phone you in the morning.”

  Hamish returned to the station. Elspeth had lit a hurricane lamp and placed it on the kitchen table.

  “Who was it?” she asked.

  “It was Josie McSween, my copper. She was running off up the back way. She said she heard voices and wanted to see who it was.”

  “Is she stalking you, Hamish? Where is she living?”

  “Over at the manse.”

  “So what’s she doing ploughing through the snow over the back way when she could have come round by the road?”

  “She’s a bit daft, that’s all. It looks as if we aren’t going to have a chance to see thon video.”

  “The hotel’s got a generator.”

  “So it has. Let’s go.”