Death of a Valentine - M. C. Beaton [64]
When Hamish had left, her husband, Bruce, asked, “What was that about?”
“Hamish has left us his blood sample and urine sample. He wants a rush on it. He thinks he’s been drugged.”
“We’ve got too much to do,” said Bruce, who was jealous of Hamish because he knew his wife had at one time been keen on the policeman. “Shove them in the fridge.”
“But what do I tell him when he starts nagging on the phone?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, tell him he’s clear. We can’t be wasting time on one damn highland policeman.”
Hamish stood outside the lab and phoned Jimmy. “Where are you?” he asked.
“I’m in the pub.”
“It isn’t even noon yet!”
“What are you? The Temperance Society?”
“I’m coming to see you. I’ve got a breakthrough.”
“It’s the pub next to headquarters.”
“What if Blair finds me there?”
“He won’t. He’s down at the docks.”
Jimmy was sitting at a corner table in the pub. “What’s all the excitement about?”
Hamish told him about the tape and about the look on Jamie Baxter’s face.
“Och, come on, laddie!” said Jimmy when he had finished. “He’s a respectable man wi’ an impeccable background.”
“What is his background?” asked Hamish. “You told me you had checked all my suspects.”
“He was in special forces in Northern Ireland.”
“Was he now? Jimmy, what better place to find out all about bomb making? Didn’t you connect the dots? You should ha’ told me about this. I want a warrant.”
“You’ll need a lot more evidence to get a warrant than a look on a man’s face months ago.”
“I’m going over to have a word wi’ him.”
“Well, mind how you go and if the shit hits the fan and he starts howling to Daviot, I’ll swear blind it’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
At the town hall, Hamish asked Jessie Cormack where her boss was. “He’s gone to Edinburgh with his wife,” said Jessie. “There’s some function or other they have to attend.”
Hamish went back outside and climbed into his Land Rover. He had to get inside Jamie’s house.
Dressed in black, he left his police station that night at two in the morning. He had borrowed an old Volvo from Iain at the garage, not wanting the Land Rover to be seen anywhere near the Baxters’ house.
It was a dark, cold, misty night. He parked the Volvo some distance away and made his way along a lane at the back of the Baxters’ house. The garden gate was locked but he climbed nimbly over it and dropped down into the garden. He had not noticed any sign of a burglar alarm on his previous visits to Cora. He opened a small backpack, took out his forensic coveralls, and put them on, even covering his boots. He did not want any trace of him to be found in the house.
He took out a ring of skeleton keys and got to work on the back door, hoping it was not bolted on the other side. Householders often did not realise how effective a bolt could be.
At last the lock clicked open and he slid quietly into the kitchen. His pencil torch flickered over the sterile kitchen’s gleaming surfaces. He made his way from the kitchen into a square hall. He looked briefly into the downstairs living room and dining room before making his way quietly up the stairs. He hoped Jamie had a study.
He found it beside the main bedroom. Thanking his stars the study was at the back of the house, he sat down at Jamie’s desk and began to go through the drawers. The bottom one was locked. He worked steadily with a skeleton key, not wanting to force the drawer. His heart sank when all he found were pornographic magazines and a bottle of whisky.
He flicked the torchlight around the room. There was a small wall safe. If there is anything incriminating, it will be in there, thought Hamish. But how to get the combination?
He searched the desk again, hoping that Jamie might have written the combination somewhere. He took out all the drawers and looked at the back. Nothing. He replaced the drawers and switched on Jamie’s computer. There was a file for addresses and telephone numbers. He opened it up. He recognised Annie’s home number and work number. He studied all the names and was about to give up when he saw a name in the middle