Death of a Gentle Lady - M. C. Beaton [56]
Jimmy arrived at Hamish’s cottage at six in the morning to find the policeman still awake, packed and ready to leave.
‘No success,’ said Jimmy. ‘We kept the helicopter up as long as we could but then Daviot came on the phone screaming about the cost. All we can do now is put a police guard outside your station.’
‘I’ll alert the villagers,’ said Hamish. ‘Any strange woman appearing in Lochdubh and they’ll make a citizens’ arrest. There is no need for a police guard. Do you know, I don’t think she or he will try again. I think whoever it is could possibly be mad, and made even madder with fear that I might guess something.’
‘It’s up to you. What a dump this place is. Worse than Lochdubh.’
‘It’s really lovely,’ said Hamish. ‘That reminds me. I’ve a present for you.’
He took out the wood carving that looked so like Blair.
‘Man, that’s grand,’ said Jimmy. ‘Can I stick pins in it?’
Lochdubh looked reassuringly the same. As soon as he had unpacked, Hamish got into bed, joined by his cat and dog, and fell sound asleep.
He awoke in the late afternoon to find Elspeth standing over him.
‘You cannae chust walk into a man’s bedroom!’ he howled.
‘I came to see if you were alive,’ said Elspeth. ‘I bought you a present.’
‘I don’t want a present,’ said Hamish sulkily. ‘All I want iss a bit o’ peace.’
‘Smell something?’ asked Elspeth.
Hamish propped himself up on the pillows and sniffed the air. ‘Coffee?’
‘Yes, good coffee. I bought you a percolator.’
‘Have you seen Sonsie and Lugs?’
‘Last time I saw them, they were strolling along the waterfront, heading for the Italian restaurant. They must be hungry.’
Hamish got out of bed and stretched and yawned. Then he realized he had not put on any pyjamas and was stark naked.
Elspeth giggled. ‘That’s quite a blush you’ve got, Hamish. It goes all the way –’
‘Get out!’ he roared.
When Hamish had washed and dressed, he found Elspeth in the kitchen. She poured him a cup of coffee.
Hamish drank a little and then smiled. ‘This is grand. Thank you. Now, what do I have to do for this?’
‘Nothing. There’s a clampdown on reporting what happened up in Grianach. Editor’s phoned all over. Story suppressed. Unless you can think of anything, I’ve got to get back to Glasgow.’
Hamish looked at her thoughtfully. She had lit the stove. The kitchen was warm. She was wearing a chunky grey sweater over jeans, and the grey seemed to highlight the odd silvery colour of her eyes. Her hair had reverted to its usual frizzy look, which seemed to suit her better than when it was straightened.
‘I may be back,’ said Elspeth. ‘The editor of the Highland Times is retiring, and Matthew is taking over as editor. He’ll need a reporter.’
‘Wouldn’t it seem a bit tame after the city?’
‘Not with the goings-on you seem to conjure up. I’m highland to the bone, and I don’t really seem to fit in in Glasgow. Then the photographer I have with me, Billy, is a complete lout. All he does is sneer at this place, and the more he sneers at it, the more I realize how much I love it.’
‘I was sorry to hear about you being jilted,’ said Hamish. Elspeth had been left at the church on her wedding day. She had been about to marry a fellow reporter but he had run off and left her. ‘Were you very hurt?’
‘I was angry and then I was relieved,’ said Elspeth. ‘And while we’re on the subject of jilted people, how are you getting on with Priscilla?’
‘I cancelled the engagement,’ said Hamish. ‘Not her. I havenae seen much o’ her. She’s traipsing around the hills and heather with that Irishman.’
‘Not any more. He’s left, and she’s too busy rehearsing her part with that writer. I’m still amazed you actually got around to proposing marriage to someone, Hamish. That Russian, I mean.’
He sighed. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing, Elspeth. I did it to keep my police station. And the idea was that we’d divorce after a while.’
‘It’s wonderful how you got permission to marry her so easily. They’re clamping down on these arranged marriages.