Death of a Sweep - M. C. Beaton [7]
In the general store, Hamish stood patiently whilst Milly talked shyly to Ailsa Kennedy, the red-haired wife of the owner, and to two of the villagers, Edie Aubrey and Alice MacQueen.
Ailsa asked, ‘What do you do about the cleaning? That’s a rare big house to dust.’
Milly blushed. ‘We only used a few of the rooms. I do what I can.’
‘You puir wee lassie,’ said Ailsa. ‘You need help. We’ll be along this afternoon.’
‘I d-don’t know what my sister-in-law …’
‘Nonsense. She’ll be glad o’ the help. Will you be having a wake after the funeral?’
‘I don’t know when the procurator fiscal is going to release the body. Besides, Henry did not believe in anything.’
‘We’ll get the Church of Scotland minister,’ said Edie. ‘He would rather send a body to the next world with a Christian burial than have the poor soul put in the ground with nothing at all. I’ll ask him.’
Milly began to cry, tears running down her face. A chair was found for her. Ailsa rushed off to the kitchen at the back and returned with a mug of tea into which she had put a generous slug of whisky. ‘Put that down ye,’ she ordered.
When Milly had recovered, she said, ‘You are all so kind, but as to the cleaning, I am sure Philomena will not allow it.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ said Ailsa. ‘Everything fixed up wi’ the lawyer?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘That would be Byles and Cox in Strathbane?’
‘Oh, no, Tarry and Wilkins in Inverness.’
More women came into the shop, crowding around Milly and offering support. Ailsa nipped quietly into the back shop and phoned Philomena. ‘This is Tarry and Wilkins, solicitors,’ she said in a prim voice. ‘Mr Tarry has a letter left for you by Mr Henry Davenport with instructions it was to be handed to you personally on his death.’
‘Is it another will?’ asked Philomena hopefully.
‘That we don’t know, Miss Davenport. Only you can open the letter.’
‘I’m setting off right away,’ said Philomena.
Hamish returned with Milly to her home, followed by six women carrying dusters, mops, and brushes. Milly was terrified. She felt sure that Philomena would order them all away.
But her car was not there, and there was a note left for her on the kitchen table.
‘Dear Milly,’ she read. ‘Called away on urgent business. Back this evening.’
Hamish was amused. He was sure Ailsa had something to do with it.
‘Mrs Davenport,’ he said, ‘I will call on you tomorrow. Do try to find me a list of your husband’s friends.’
‘I promise,’ said Milly, and Hamish left behind him a cheery clatter of gossiping women.
When Hamish got back to the police station, he walked into his office and immediately sensed that everything had been searched.
Tolly came in and stood waiting. ‘Who are you spying for?’ demanded Hamish. ‘Blair?’
‘I would not stoop to do anything so low,’ protested Tolly. ‘I am a Christian and I always do my duty.’
‘Then you can start now. Get yourself over to Drim and stand guard on that house all night. I’ll relieve you in the morning.’
‘I haven’t had any sleep, sir!’
‘Get to it or I’ll put in a report on you. Do you think I don’t know when my papers have been searched? Go to it!’
Philomena arrived back from Inverness in a rage after having been firmly told that there was no letter for her, nor had they phoned. Milly was seated in the drawing room, watching television. She cringed when Philomena shouted, ‘What’s been going on here?’
The once dingy room smelled fresh and clean. Several pieces of the Swedish-type furniture had been removed and replaced with shabby but comfortable chairs the ladies of Drim had found in the attics. Milly switched off the television and said, ‘The local ladies came to help me clear the house. I never liked that modern furniture, and it never suited this room.’
‘It was my poor brother’s choice. Get it back.’
The doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it,’ said Philomena grimly. She opened the door and glared down at Tolly, who gave her an ingratiating smile. ‘I’m here to guard the house,’ he said. ‘I wondered if I could be having a chair to sit on and maybe a cup of tea.’
‘No,’ said Philomena, and slammed the door in his face.