Death of a Chimney Sweep - M. C. Beaton [58]
He got back into bed and was about to fall asleep when he noticed the travel bag perched on top of the wardrobe. She had obviously just bought it when he met her in the restaurant. He got up again, stood on a chair, lifted down the bag from the wardrobe, climbed down holding the bag, and placed it on the floor.
Jaime opened it and suppressed a gasp as he saw all that money. He thought of his ambitions to be a doctor; he thought of his family out in the squalid barrio. He quietly closed the bag, and with his heart thudding so loudly that he was afraid Sandra would wake up, he quickly dressed, let himself out of the room, and then made his escape through a fire door at the end of the corridor.
Tam Tamworth haunted Drim but there was no sign of Milly. He longed for her to come back so that he could tell her he really loved her.
The summer was gone and a cold wind was blowing down from the mountains. The restless seagulls wheeled overhead as he trudged away from the house. He knew he should return to Strathbane. He was supposed to be out following up a tip about a drug raid. He had found out quickly that it was a fiction from some unreliable informant but had not informed the news desk, using the time instead to search for Milly.
He decided to go for a walk up on the moors, wondering, always wondering, where she had gone and if she ever thought of him.
Tam had gone a good way away from Drim. He stood on an outcrop of rock, looking down at the village, thinking it would be marvellous if he could see her car drive up.
And then he saw a figure, made small by the distance, leaving the back of the house.
“Hey!” he called, but his voice was whipped away with the wind. He started to run back down to the village, stumbling and cursing. When he reached the house, he checked round it but could not see anyone; nor was there any sign of a break-in.
He took out his phone and called Hamish.
“I’ll be right over,” said Hamish.
“I can’t wait for you,” said Tam. “I’m supposed to be at the office. Phone me if you catch him.”
Hamish drove quickly to Drim. Like Tam, he searched around the house and checked the locks. Then he took out a pair of powerful binoculars and scanned the moors. No one.
He was suddenly sure it was Prosser at last.
Sandra awoke in the morning and stretched luxuriously. She turned and felt for Jaime and found the bed empty. She looked up at the wardrobe and saw immediately that the bag was missing.
Sheer panic gripped her, followed by white-hot rage. She rose and dressed hurriedly. She was relieved to find there was still a wad of notes in her handbag. Sandra felt murderous. She went down to reception and asked at the desk if someone could translate for her for a small fee. A girl was summoned. Her English was not very good but Sandra felt sure it would be good enough for her purpose.
They walked together to the restaurant, where Sandra gave the girl a description of Jaime and said they had been dining together the evening before and she wanted to find him.
She gloomily expected to be told to come back later when the waiter who had served them would be on duty but the girl, after questioning the staff, said that Jaime worked at the Chile Modes clothing company. Sandra asked for the address and waited impatiently. The girl finally came back with a slip of paper with the address on it. Sandra tipped her and walked with her back to the hotel, where she bought a map of the city.
She then wandered down the boulevard until she found a shop selling tourist souvenirs. Sandra bought a baseball cap and then saw they had a display of souvenir knives. She bought the one with the longest blade.
Returning to the hotel, she asked the concierge to hire her a car, asking for a four-wheel drive as she said she would like to see some of the country. When she paid for the hire and deposit, she had very little money left.
In Guildford, Sandra had taken the advanced