Death of a Valentine - M. C. Beaton [54]
At the town hall, they found that Percy was not in his office. Iona, at the switchboard, said he had stepped out half an hour ago.
They searched around Braikie in the pubs, in the café, and at the post office, but no one had seen Percy.
Their search was slowed by people recognising Elspeth and asking for autographs.
“Let’s have something to eat,” said Hamish, “and then find out where Percy lives.”
They ate mutton pies and peas in the café and then drove back to the town hall. This time, Hamish asked Jessie Cormack if she knew where Percy had gone. She shook her head and said she had not seen him that morning. But she was able to give them his address.
Percy lived with his parents in a small, grey stone house on the outskirts of Braikie. A very thin woman with dyed blonde hair answered the door. She looked in alarm at Hamish. “Is my husband all right?”
“It’s Percy I’ve come about,” said Hamish. “He isn’t in the office. Is he here?”
She shook her head. “Why are you asking about him?” she demanded. “Has he done something wrong?”
“Nothing like that. He left a message saying he had some information for me. Did he say anything to you?”
“He left this morning as usual.” Her eyes widened in fear. “These murders! Do you think something has happened to my boy?”
“No, no. I am sure he will turn up. I’ll phone you as soon as I find him.”
“No joy,” said Hamish when he joined Elspeth in the Land Rover. “Where the hell can he have gone? We’d best go back and sit in his office and see if he turns up. I’ll need to let Sonsie and Lugs out for a run first.”
“What’s the point of having a great flap on your door if you’re going to take your beasties everywhere with you?” demanded Elspeth.
“You never liked them,” complained Hamish.
“I like them fine,” said Elspeth. “But to have to look after two peculiar animals in a snowstorm when you’re supposed to be detecting is ridiculous.”
Hamish glared at her.
He let the dog and cat out of the back and stood huddled in his coat while they chased each other through the snow. At last he called them back and drove back to the town hall.
When they sat down in Percy’s office, a bad-tempered silence reigned between them. Elspeth broke it by saying, “Now we’re here, what about searching his desk?”
“Oh, all right,” said Hamish sulkily.
He began to turn over every piece of paper on top of the desk and then began to go through the drawers. “There’s something here,” he said, holding up a videotape.
“Maybe Percy’s back at the police station waiting for you,” said Elspeth.
“I’ve got a video recorder. I’ll just be leaving a receipt for this.”
“I didn’t think anyone had video recorders anymore,” said Elspeth.
“Well, now you know.”
Chapter Nine
Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.
—Robert Burns
Back at the police station, Hamish, after he had lit the stove, said, “I’ll make us a cup of coffee and then we’ll have a look at this video. Strathbane won’t get out the men to look for Percy because they say he’s probably gone off somewhere with friends. I’ll just need to hope he’s all right and start searching in the morning.”
The lights went out. “Damn,” said Hamish. “The snow must have brought a cable down.”
“I saw a face peering in at the window when the lights went out!” Elspeth exclaimed.
Hamish ran outside with the dog and cat at his heels. The snow had stopped, but it was freezing hard. He could hear it crunching under the feet of someone fleeing over the hill at the back. He set off in pursuit and brought the fleeing figure down in a rugby tackle.
“It’s me, Josie,” squeaked a frightened voice from under him.
Hamish pulled her to her feet. “What were you doing looking in at the kitchen window?” he demanded.
“I wanted to see what your instructions were for tomorrow,” said Josie, close to tears. “I heard voices and thought I would look in the window