Death of a Dreamer (14 page)

‘Don’t go beating her up again,’ said Hamish. ‘She didn’t tell us much. We knew from police reports that she’d been a prostitute. I guessed the
rest.’

Jimmy resumed the questioning. Jock stuck to his story about calling on Effie the evening she had disappeared. He said he had then gone back to the hotel and had a late dinner with Betty. He
said he had seen the American around the hotel but hadn’t talked to him.

Hamish thought that strange. He had been under the impression that Hal had buttonholed everyone.

After the questioning was over, Jock was dismissed but told not to leave Lochdubh.

‘You two had better go and check his alibi with his agent,’ said Jimmy.

Robin and Hamish got back into the Land Rover.

‘How on earth did you guess that Jock had not known Dora was a prostitute when he married her?’ asked Robin.

‘People from Glasgow can never lie like a highlander,’ said Hamish. ‘His shoulders were stiff. And when anyone turns a clear, unblinking, honest gaze on me, I know
they’re lying.’

‘What’s this agent, Betty Barnard, like? Oh, look! A heron.’ She pointed.

They had almost reached the end of the waterfront. Hamish slowed the vehicle. A heron was standing over a rocky pool on its long thin legs, gazing down into the water. Its beak suddenly flashed
down into the water and came up with a fish. It rose majestically into the air, lazily flapping its huge wings, and soared up over the loch.

‘Fish sometimes get trapped in the pools at low tide,’ said Hamish, speeding up again.

‘I was asking you what Betty Barnard was like.’

‘Very nice. She’s by way of being a friend of mine.’

‘Don’t let that stop you suspecting her,’ Robin warned.

Mr Johnson, the manager, back from his shopping, told them that Betty was out somewhere. Hamish and Robin took seats in the bar where they could sit and watch through the open
door into the reception area.

‘Would you like a drink?’ asked Hamish.

‘I’ll have an orange juice.’ Hamish ordered orange juice for her and coffee for himself.

Half an hour passed. They were just about to give up when Betty walked into reception. Hamish hailed her.

Betty was wearing another trouser suit, a silky thing the same green as her eyes. ‘I was down at the police station looking for you, Hamish,’ she said. ‘I called in at that
police unit, and they told me I’d find you up here because you wanted to question me.’

‘Can I get you anything to drink?’ asked Hamish.

‘A gin and tonic with a lot of ice would be lovely. I took your beasts out for a walk and fed them. They’re all right.’

Hamish looked at her in genuine gratitude. ‘Thanks a lot, Betty. They’re worse than children.’

He called to the barman, ‘A gin and tonic over here. Lots of ice. Now, Betty . . .’

‘I’ll do the questioning,’ said Robin firmly. ‘Miss Barnard . . .’

‘Betty, please.’

‘Betty Let’s go over again the evening Effie disappeared. You said you met Mr Fleming for a late dinner. What were you doing earlier in the evening?’

‘Let me see. I have other artists, you know. I was up in my room making phone calls. You can check my hotel phone bill.’

‘We’ll need to check your mobile as well.’

‘You’ll need to go to Glasgow to do that. I left it behind.’

‘Give me your mobile phone number.’

Betty did and raised her eyebrows at Hamish as if wondering why he was letting Robin ask all the questions.

‘So you were in your room for the early part of the evening. Any witnesses?’

‘Yes, that maid, Bessie something or other. I ordered a drink from room service, and she brought it up.’

‘What time was that?’

‘Not sure. About eight o’clock.’

The bar had begun to fill up. ‘Press,’ explained Hamish. ‘They’re all over the place. Let’s move to the lounge.’ He saw Matthew Campbell among the reporters
and photographers and made a mental note to call on him later and see if he had found out anything.

Once seated in a corner of the lounge, Robin started the questioning again.

‘So did you meet Jock for dinner by previous arrangement?’

‘No, he called on me in my room and said he’d been up to see Effie. He told me he had straightened her out and said he was famished.’

‘What time was this?’

‘It was about nine o’clock. I said we’d better hurry down to the dining room because they stopped cooking at nine-thirty.’

‘And when did you finish eating?’

‘Around eleven. Then we went to our respective rooms.’

‘Did you know Jock Fleming before he was married?’

‘Yes. A friend introduced us and begged me to look at his work. I did. I saw it was marketable. People are turning away from abstracts. I arranged an exhibition for him, and he did very
well indeed. He’s not top of the market yet, but if you want a Jock Fleming landscape, it’ll set you back ten thousand pounds. He’s a coming lad.’

‘What did you think about his marriage?’

‘I was a bit surprised. I thought her a coarse little thing. But he was so happy about the baby coming, and he was working harder than ever. Besides, it’s not my job to interfere in
the personal life of my artists.’

‘And yet you came all the way up here to be with him?’

‘I needed a holiday, and I wanted to protect my investment. Jock was my first big success.’

The interview went on. Betty answered all Robin’s questions simply and directly.

After Robin had finished, Hamish said, ‘I’d like a word with Betty alone, if you don’t mind.’

‘I’ll wait for you outside,’ said Robin.

‘It’s like this, Betty,’ said Hamish awkwardly. ‘Now that this is an official murder case, I can’t afford to socialize with you until the murderer is found.
I’m right grateful to you for looking after the animals, but you see how it is.’

She gave him a warm smile. ‘Don’t worry, Hamish. Catch your murderer, and we’ll have a party to celebrate.’

Hamish joined Robin outside. ‘Before we leave here, we should have a word with the maid, Bessie Jamieson.’

‘Why?’

‘I caught her in bed with Jock. Maybe he said something useful to her.’

Back in the hotel, Mr Johnson summoned Bessie. ‘You can use my office,’ he said. ‘Don’t be too long about it. Bessie’s got work to do. A lot of the guests have
left, but they’ve been replaced by the gentlemen of the press.’

‘Sit down, Bessie,’ said Hamish. She was a plump girl with shiny brown hair and rosy cheeks. ‘Now, you went to bed with Jock Fleming.’

‘It was just a wee bit o’ fun, Hamish.’

‘I’m sure it was. Did he say anything to you that might have a bearing on the death of Effie Garrard?’

‘Let me see. He’d ordered a bottle of whisky, and I took it up to him. He asked me to join him. We got drinking and talking. He said he’d like to paint me. He said Effie had
been chasing him and she’d been a pain in the neck, but that was all. We got a wee bit drunk and he started kissing me and afore I knew it, we were in bed.’

‘And has he spoken to you since?’

‘He said it wouldn’t be a good idea, what with his wife being up here. I said okay, cos I’ve got a boyfriend down in Inverness. Och, it didnae mean anything.’

‘And he didn’t say anything else about that American or Effie?’

‘Not that I can bring to mind.’

‘If you think of anything, Bessie, phone me right away.’

‘Are there really women like that?’ asked Robin after Bessie had left.

‘Like what?’

‘I mean, just hop into bed with a man and forget it next day?’

‘Don’t ask me,’ said Hamish. ‘They havenae exactly come my way. Who do you want to interview next?’

‘I’d like something to eat first.’

‘Let’s go to the police station,’ said Hamish. ‘I’ve got a couple of trout in the freezer.’

‘Okay Then I’d like to interview the biggest gossip in the village.’

‘Hard to tell. When it comes to gossip, they’re all on an equal footing. Maybe, though, the Currie sisters have the edge.’

After lunch, Hamish led Robin to the Currie sisters’ cottage. He was not looking forward to the interview, knowing that both sisters regarded him as a sort of
Lothario.

Strangely enough, Nessie was alone. Hamish could hardly remember a time when he had found the twin sisters separated from each other.

‘Jessie’s gone up to the church to do the flowers,’ said Nessie, her already wrinkled face creasing in disapproval. ‘I don’t hold with flowers in church. It smacks
of popery. What do you want?’

‘Detective Constable Mackenzie here would like to ask you a few questions.’

‘Don’t be long. I’m right tired of answering questions. I suppose you’ll be wanting tea, Macbeth.’

‘No, thank you. We’ve just eaten.’

‘He’s just saying that because you’re here,’ said Nessie to Robin. ‘Hamish Macbeth is the biggest moocher for miles around. Sit down. I won’t be
long.’

They both sat down in the neat little living room. The windows were open, allowing a gentle breeze scented with pine into the room. The only good thing about taking tea with the Curries, thought
Hamish, was that it was served on the round table by the window and not on a coffee table. He was very tall and disliked bending double over low coffee tables to take tea.

Nessie came back with a tray laden with tea and scones. ‘Help yourself,’ she said. They gathered around the table.

‘Eat something first,’ Nessie ordered Robin. ‘You’ve got to keep your strength up. A young lassie like you should be getting married and having bairns.’

The scones were feather light and generously filled with butter and strawberry jam.

Robin dutifully ate one, took a sip of tea, and said, ‘I know you’ve been asked this question before, but I thought that perhaps you might have remembered something new. Did you see
anyone on the waterfront the night Mr Addenfest was killed?’

‘We mind our own business, me and Jessie.’

‘I am sure you do. But you are such a sharp-eyed and intelligent woman that I was sure you might have noticed something that nobody else would think important.’

Hamish was amused to notice the struggle between vanity and ignorance on Nessie’s face. Nessie was obviously delighted with the compliment and didn’t want to let Robin down. I hope
she doesn’t make anything up, thought Hamish.

‘Let me see, we go to bed at ten o’clock, and the bedroom’s at the back. I got up about midnight to go to the, er, you know what. I took a wee keek out of the window there. I
thought I heard a cry, but, och, it was probably a seagull.’

‘Nothing else?’ asked Robin.

She shook her grey head.

‘What about your sister? Did she see or hear anything?’

‘No, Jessie’s a heavy sleeper.’

They thanked her and left. They were just walking away when Nessie called, ‘Detective Constable Mackenzie!’

Robin hurried back. Nessie seized her arm and said in a fierce whisper, ‘You be careful of Macbeth. He’s a devil with the women.’

‘What was that all about?’ asked Hamish.

‘A warning,’ said Robin. ‘She said you were a devil with the women.’

Hamish sighed. ‘If only that were true. Let’s go to the newspaper office and see if Matthew Campbell has found anything.’

Elspeth was sitting at Matthew’s desk. ‘Where’s Matthew?’ asked Hamish.

‘Probably up at the hotel bar drinking with the other journalists.’

‘I am Detective Constable Mackenzie,’ said Robin.

‘Sorry,’ said Hamish. ‘Robin, this is Elspeth Grant, who used to work up here. She now works for the
Bugle
in Glasgow. Found anything out, Elspeth?’

‘Not much. All the interesting characters at the hotel have been interviewed so many times they don’t want to talk to me. I’m going out to talk to people in the village. You
know, they’ll talk to me where they might not talk to you, Hamish.’

‘Why?’

‘I was the astrologer here, remember? They’ll tell me things in the hope of getting their fortunes told. Like we said, I’ll drop by the station tonight.’

At the end of a long day, Hamish and Robin reported to the mobile police unit. Jimmy was asleep at the desk, an empty whisky glass in front of him. ‘He should never be in
charge,’ said Robin. ‘Mr Daviot should be here.’

‘He’s all right,’ said Hamish defiantly. ‘The poor man’s barely been able to have a sleep since Hal’s body was found.’

At the sound of their voices, Jimmy awoke. ‘Oh, it’s you pair,’ he said. ‘Get anything?’

‘Round and round the houses and nothing much,’ said Hamish. ‘Any more on the forensic report?’

‘Just that he was struck dead further up the beach.’

‘Wait a bit,’ said Hamish. ‘That’s odd.’

‘What’s odd?’

‘He was lying half in, half out of the water, face up. Someone must have hit him and he fell backwards. So they’d drag the body down to the water by the ankles, hoping to dump him in
the loch. Probably the murderer heard the boys coming and fled. Did forensic find any drag marks?’

Jimmy groaned. ‘They’ve got a rugby match tonight and cleared off fast. It’s been high tide since then.’

‘You know, Jimmy, I watch these forensic programmes on TV. Whether fiction or fact, the labs always seem to have attractive, hardworking women. Why are we stuck with a lot of boozy
men?’

‘They’re all staunch members of the Freemasons, and so is Daviot.’

‘Why couldn’t that lot have joined some club or cult that bans liquor? So we can assume that whoever Hal met, it was someone he knew and someone he had no reason to fear. Maybe a
woman.’

‘Maybe Jock. Maybe that wee notebook of Hal’s contained something about Jock. That’s it for the day. We’ll start again tomorrow.’

‘Has Daviot been around?’

‘He came briefly and fussed and hummed and hawed and then took himself off again.’

Outside the unit, Robin said she would go back to Strathbane and get an early night.

Hamish fed and walked the dog and cat and was just wondering what to eat himself when Betty Barnard walked in.

‘Unless it’s police business,’ said Hamish sharply, ‘I shouldn’t be talking to you.’

‘It is in a way. I know you’ve found out about Jock’s previous charges of assault. I wanted to talk to you about him.’