Death of a Chimney Sweep - M. C. Beaton [16]
He longed to be able to go down to Surrey himself but knew he would never get permission.
Hamish decided to wait until things grew a little quieter and then maybe take a holiday.
When the funerals were over and the villagers, all men—the women having decided to honour the old tradition and not attend the graveside—began to walk towards Milly’s house where refreshments were to be served, Hamish caught up with Tam Tamworth.
“You seem to be getting close to Mrs. Davenport,” he said.
“Aye, she’s a grand lady. She’s promised me a lot o’ background exclusive after the murderer is found. But, to tell you, Hamish, I’ve a bad feel about all this. Anyway, there’s to be no big highland wake. It would be too much for the poor woman. It’s just going to be about an hour of eats and drinks.”
“The locals won’t like that. They’ll be looking forward to their usual all-night fling.”
“Funny enough, they’ve got fond o’ Milly and knew a full highland wake would upset her so they’re going along with it. Hey! Who’s this?”
A four-wheel drive had just drawn up outside the house as they approached it. Four men got out dressed in sober black. “If I’m not mistaken,” said Hamish, “that’ll be the four old friends who he tricked out of money.”
“What! All the way from Surrey?”
“Maybe they’re hoping to claw back some of the money from the widow.”
“At sich a time!” Tam strode forward. “We’ll see about that.”
Hamish hurried forward to catch Tam saying loudly, “If you’re that lot up from Surrey, I warn ye, now’s not the time to be hassling the poor woman for money.”
Hamish pushed in front of Tam. “I am investigating these murders,” he said, “so I must ask each of you to identify yourselves.”
Ferdinand Castle introduced himself and then the others. Hamish studied them closely. Ferdinand was a tall, slight man with thinning hair and a bulbous nose. Thomas Bromley was small and tubby with a fat cheerful face. John Sanders was thin and wiry with a thick head of black hair and a clever face. Charles Prosser was straight-backed and military looking with thick grey hair. All were expensively dressed, from their well-tailored coats and suits to their highly polished shoes.
“We are only here to pay our respects,” said Ferdinand. “For all his faults, Captain Davenport was an old army buddy. Where is Mrs. Davenport?”
“Ben the hoose,” said Tam curtly. “I suppose you’d better come in.”
Milly, wearing a simple black dress and looking very frail, was seated in an armchair at the window. She rose when the four men entered.
“How kind of you to come all this way,” she said. “Did you bring your wives?”
“No, they all thought it too long a journey,” said John Sanders.
“Where are you staying?” asked Hamish.
“Over at the Tommel Castle Hotel. We booked in last night.”
“I know you have already made statements to the Surrey police,” said Hamish, “but I’d like to call on you this evening just to get a better idea about what sort of man Captain Davenport was.”
“Why?” demanded Charles Prosser.
“The more I can find out about the deceased, the better,” said Hamish. “I am perfectly sure he went out on his last day to meet someone he knew.”
Thomas Bromley shrugged. “If you think it will help.”
“Let’s say six o’clock,” said Hamish.
The four looked at one another and then Ferdinand said curtly, “Okay, but don’t take all night over it.”
Hamish joined Jimmy, who was helping himself to a glass of whisky. “Jimmy, can you e-mail me over the background on these four men?”
“Will do. But you’re wasting your time. Solid alibis. Still, we’re going to have a policewoman sleeping here tonight just to be on the safe side.”
After half an hour, the four visitors decided to go outside for a smoke. “Well, would you just look at that,” said Ferdinand.
Hamish was helping Lugs down from the back of the police Land Rover while Sonsie jumped lightly to the ground on her large paws. “Good heavens! The copper’s got a couple of weird animals there,” said Thomas. “A wild cat! And a dog with ears like Dumbo.”
“That policeman,” said Charles