Death of a Sweep - M. C. Beaton [21]
‘Then how nice of you to come to see me.’
‘I wondered if you felt like a trip to Strathbane this evening for dinner.’
‘Oh … I don’t know. Wouldn’t it look odd so soon after the funeral?’
‘I don’t think anyone will notice us. It just crossed my mind that it might be a wee bit o’ a tonic to get out o’ here. And you did want to see a film.’
‘Oh, it would. Coffee?’
‘I’ll be on my way and pick ye up at seven o’clock.’
Jimmy came back from his phone call. ‘Dead end. Yes, they investigated their finances and all are well off.’
‘It’s because they’ve been conned out of the money,’ said Hamish slowly. ‘The captain made a fool of them. I’ll swear to God one of them hated him violently and the others are covering up.’
Elspeth was feeling she had made a wasted journey. She had hit a brick wall everywhere she went. The four men were considered model citizens. Not one of them had a dishonourable discharge from the army. When she had tried to pump the adjutant about the captain’s suspected selling of arms in Northern Ireland, she was told roundly that it had all turned out to be nonsense. Her researcher, Betty Close, worked hard and seemed eager but there was something about the girl that Elspeth did not like. Betty was small and sallow with a little beaky nose and a small mouth. Her one beauty lay in her eyes, which were large and dark brown, fringed with heavy lashes. She dyed her long hair black and had an irritating habit of tossing it around as if advertising shampoo.
Betty wanted Elspeth’s job. She wanted everything that Elspeth had, from her flat down by the River Clyde to her status at the television station.
She knew Elspeth was worried about losing her job as a news presenter. Betty had overheard the head of news and current affairs saying that if Elspeth could make anything of the Pandora’s Box programme, then she would be an even bigger star. But she did not tell Elspeth this, constantly commiserating with her over the ‘loss’ of her presenting job. To which Elspeth always snapped back that she had not lost it.
‘So are we back off up to peasant land?’ asked the soundman, Phil Green.
‘Not yet. I want to go via London. I’ve got to see an old friend in the City. I wonder if these four men are as successful in business as they claim. Why are they so desperate to get their money back? Is it just because they were conned?’
‘London it is,’ said the cameraman, George Lennox, gloomily.
The four men waited a couple of days before venturing to visit Milly again. As they approached, they saw that all the shrubbery in front of the house had been cleared away so that anyone approaching from any angle could be clearly seen.
They got down from their vehicle and rang the bell. Ailsa Kennedy answered the door. ‘Whit?’ she demanded.
‘We are here to call on Mrs Davenport.’
‘If you want money out o’ her, forget it. We’ve phoned thae lawyers and you’ve no’ got one damn thing in writing to say you ever lent him the money. You’ll not come here again, pestering the poor woman.’
Her place was taken by a large man with big ears. ‘I’m Tam Tamworth from the Strathbane Journal,’ he said. ‘This could be an interesting wee story for me. Are you all so broke that you’re all the way up here harassing a widow woman?’
‘You write one word and we’ll sue!’ said Charles Prosser.
‘Go ahead.’ Tam grinned. ‘You cannae stop me writing about your bothering the widow, now, can ye? Get lost.’
The four men looked at him. For one brief moment, Tam felt a spasm of fear. They looked strong and menacing.
‘This was just a friendly call before we leave,’ said Charles Prosser smoothly.
‘Oh, aye? So leave.’
As they walked back to their vehicle, Tam decided to watch his back in future. If one of that lot was a murderer, someone who had murdered two men viciously, and then a woman, too, he would not hesitate at another.
By the time she got back to the Tommel Castle Hotel, Elspeth had a raging temperature. To her dismay, Dr Brodie diagnosed swine flu and she was quarantined in her room. She tossed and turned, sometimes fretting