Death of a Dustman (17 page)

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Authors: M.C. Beaton

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Chapter Seven

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death.

– William Shakespeare

As Hamish returned to the police station, he could hear a whirring sound coming closer. He shielded his eyes and looked up at the sky. A helicopter was coming in to land behind
the hotel. There was only the pilot in it.

He phoned Jimmy Anderson. ‘Look, there’s been a bit of a new development. Is there any chance of getting a search warrant for the new hotel?’

‘You’d need a rock solid reason. What is it?’

‘It’s just that I’ve been given the impression that Fergus thought he was on to big money, and the only big money around is Ionides, the new owner.’

‘And that’s all you’ve got?’

‘Well, not only that, but he’s got a shady record.’

‘But nothing criminal. We went into all that. I told you, Hamish, you’re that desperate it should turn out to be an outsider that you’re clutching at straws. The answer is no,
sonny, and there’s something else you should be thinking of.’

‘What’s that?’

‘If he thought he had a big cheese to blackmail, why aren’t you thinking of Colonel Halburton-Smythe?’

Hamish fell silent.

‘Well?’ demanded Jimmy. ‘Or is it that your girlfriend’s father is beyond suspicion?’

‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ said Hamish hotly. ‘I am looking into all aspects of the case, that’s all.’

‘Get me something concrete on Ionides, and I’ll have your search warrant. There’s something wrong about you and this case, Hamish. I think your mind’s beginning to
wander. Not holding out on me, are you?’

‘No, no,’ lied Hamish, now anxious to get off the phone. ‘I’ll let you know if there’s anything further.’

He sat chewing his knuckles in a sudden fit of nerves. What if he really was clutching at straws? What if Priscilla’s father should turn out to be guilty?

There was a knock at the kitchen door. Hamish went to answer it, sure that it would not turn out to be any stranger. They always knocked at the front door.

Josie Darling was standing there when he opened it.

‘What is it?’ asked Hamish.

‘Can I come in?’

He stood back. She hobbled into the kitchen on stiletto heels and sat down in a chair. ‘You’ve been asking people if they remembered anything?’

‘Aye.’

‘Well, I didn’t think much of it cos I was so terrified about everyone finding out about me and Murdo. But there was one little thing.’

‘What?’

‘I was down on the waterfront . . .’

‘When?’

‘Two days before Fergus disappeared.’

‘And . . .’

‘I saw him with Callum McSween.’

‘So?’

‘He was jeering at Callum and saying he knew Callum would soon be broke, and Fergus was bragging about his new salary and saying that he bet Callum would like some money like that, and
Callum said, “Get away from me or I’ll break your neck.”’

‘And you never thought to tell me afore this!’

‘Like I said, I was frightened that folks would find out my wedding was off. I remembered and told Mother, and Mother said it was funny Callum hadn’t gone for work at the new hotel
like a lot of other people because they were paying labourers good money.’

‘Thanks, Josie, I’ll look into it.’

‘Do you think Callum killed Fergus for his job?’

‘I doubt it. Callum was recommended by me. But I’ll have a word with him. He should have told me about the row with Fergus.’

Hamish saw her out. Then he got into the Land Rover and drove up to Callum’s croft.

Callum and his wife were sitting in their kitchen eating steak and chips. The kitchen door was open so Hamish walked in.

‘Welcome, Hamish,’ said Callum. ‘Would you like some food?’

Hamish’s stomach gave another rumble. ‘No, I’m in a hurry. I’ve got an appointment.’

‘So what brings you? Sit down, man, and take the weight off your feet.’

Hamish removed his peaked cap and sat down.

‘Callum, why didn’t you tell me you had a row with Fergus?’

Callum looked awkward. ‘Care for a dram?’

‘No, Callum. What was it about, and why didn’t you tell me?’

Callum looked down at the table and pushed his food around his plate with his fork.

‘Somehow he’d found out I was in financial trouble, and he knew I’d failed to get a job at the hotel.’

‘Wait a bit. You didn’t get a job at the new hotel? Why? A lot of it is chust plain labouring.’

‘I don’t know why. I was interviewed by that Greek.’

‘Ionides?’

‘Yes, him.’

‘Funny, you’d think he’d have a manager or have got that secretary of his to do the hiring.’

‘It was himself. And he said he was pleased to be giving work to the locals knowing how we’d all suffered with the drop in the price of sheep.’

‘And then?’

‘He said he didn’t want any of the carpets or furnishings or building materials wandering off. He said he knew us Highlanders had a reputation for theft. I got a wee bit angry. I
said I had never taken anything in my life that didn’t belong to me. I said if there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it wass a crook. I said, furthermore, if I knew of anyone getting up
to any crookery, I would report that man to the police.’

‘And he said?’

‘He said he had other people to see, and he would let me know. I wrote down my name, address and phone number. I neffer heard a word after that. I went to the hotel and that Miss Stathos
told me they already had enough employees. Man, I wass sick to my stomach. When you got me the dustman’s job, it seemed like a miracle.’

‘Look here, Callum. You should ha’ told me this afore.’

‘I didn’t want to,’ Callum mumbled. ‘It might look bad for me, me having had words with the man and then him getting murdered. That Fleming woman might have sacked me. Do
you need to put in a report, Hamish?’

Hamish buried his head in his hands. He had kept secrets from headquarters before, but never so many. He raised his head. ‘I’ll let you know, Callum. I’ll let you
know.’

Hamish then drove to the Tommel Castle Hotel. Priscilla met him at the entrance. ‘He’s up in my apartment,’ she said. ‘Follow me.’

Priscilla had an apartment at the top of the hotel. The one concession to modernity the colonel would not make was installing a lift, and so they trudged up the stairs. ‘Has he said
anything?’ asked Hamish.

Priscilla shook her blonde head. ‘Not to me. He’s waiting for you.’

In her small sitting room, the colonel was waiting, tweedy and defiant. ‘I don’t know what all the fuss is about,’ he growled. ‘I thought the man was poaching and gave
him a bawling out.’ But his eyes shifted away from Hamish’s face.

Hamish took a gamble. ‘I have to hear it all from you in your own words. You were overheard.’

The colonel turned red and stared at the floor.

‘So you’d better tell me,’ said Hamish gently.

The colonel raised his head and became all man-to-man bluff geniality. ‘You’re a friend of the family, Hamish. There’s no need for this to go any further.’

‘Tell me.’

‘That new hotel,’ said the colonel. ‘Fergus told me he had proof that they were going to poison my river, take my staff, things like that.’

‘What proof?’

‘He said he had a fax from someone in London to Ionides.’

‘So why did you not come straight to me?’

There was a silence. The colonel stared at his highly polished shoes.

‘Come on,’ urged Hamish. ‘Out with it!’

‘He offered to sell me the fax. I told him to get lost. I told him he could rot in hell.’

‘But why didn’t you come to me with this? And if Fergus had such proof, why didn’t he demand money from Ionides to keep quiet?’

‘I’m coming to that,’ said the colonel sulkily. ‘I went straight to see Ionides. Seems a charming chap. He said that Fergus had already been to see him. He said there was
no such fax and that Fergus was a fantasist, his brain addled by the drink. He took me on a tour of the hotel and pointed out mine was more a country house place, and, besides, he didn’t have
the fishing or shooting that I had. He said he was going in for tourists, conventions, coach parties, stuff like that. We got on very well. I mean, who was I going to believe? A reputable hotel
owner or a drunken dustman?’

Hamish stared at him, amazed. ‘But didn’t you think, when Fergus was murdered, that he might be on to something?’

‘But I couldn’t say anything then,’ said the colonel. ‘The police would have wondered why I didn’t come forward. Also, I didn’t think for a minute it could be
anything to do with Ionides. Men of his substance don’t need to go round bumping off people. I thought it was probably Fergus’s wife. Anyway, I decided to sit tight.’

‘By sitting tight,’ said Hamish wrathfully, ‘you may have caused the death of Angus Ettrik.’

‘That’s a bit far-fetched.’

Hamish clutched his head.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’m going to have to put in a full report. I wanted a search warrant for Ionides’s office, and you have given me reason to get one.’

‘Couldn’t you keep it quiet?’ pleaded the colonel. ‘You’ll make me look like an awful fool. I mean, do you think Fergus really had such a fax?’

‘Yes, I do, and I wonder what became of it. I’m sorry. I have a whole lot of stuff to tell headquarters in the morning, and a lot of people are going to get hurt.’

The colonel got to his feet and marched to the door. ‘Your trouble, Hamish Macbeth,’ he said, ‘is you have no loyalty.’

When her father had gone out, slamming the door behind him, Priscilla sank down wearily into an armchair and groaned. ‘What a mess. Do you really have to report him, Hamish?’

‘There’s a lot more than your father I have to report, Priscilla.’

‘The thing is,’ said Priscilla, ‘why did Fergus go to Father?’

‘That’s easy. He tries to blackmail Ionides and is told to get lost. Maybe he finds Ionides a bit frightening. So he tries to get money out of the colonel. He may have taken a copy
of the fax. He may have thought he’d hit the jackpot and that he could get money out of both. The thing that worries me is that I’m pretty damn sure there’s not an incriminating
piece of paper in that office of his. It’s no use getting Callum to search through all the hotel rubbish for papers. After Fergus’s approach, they probably learned to burn anything
incriminating. Och, what a mess!’

‘Who else are you covering up for?’

‘Priscilla, I’m that hungry. I’ll tell you if you get me some food.’

‘Wait there.’

Hamish lay back in the chair and closed his eyes. He was depressed and weary. I’m losing my touch, he thought. Dammit, I’m losing my brains. Where have I got for covering up for
people? What if it isn’t Ionides? But it’s bound to be.

He fell into a light sleep and jerked himself awake when Priscilla came in bearing a tray of sandwiches and a pot of coffee.

‘Your policeman is doing wonders in the kitchen. He’s a natural. He must be earning a bit as well. Three of the diners have sent him their compliments along with a tip. I’ve
never known that to happen before.’

She sat down and waited until Hamish had wolfed down all the sandwiches.

‘So what’s been going on?’ she asked.

Hamish began at the beginning, telling her all about the letters, all about the blackmail, about how the new schoolteacher had lied.

Priscilla waited until he had finished. He had expected her to call him a fool, forgetting that his lingering resentment at Priscilla often put words into her mouth that she never used.

Then she said calmly, ‘I don’t really see what else you could do.’

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

‘I mean, think about it, Hamish, you’ve always managed to succeed by using your intuition rather than your brain.’

Hamish winced.

‘You know what I mean. You must have had a gut feeling that no one in this village would kill one of their own. I’m thinking of Angus. But I see your dilemma. You really can’t
hold out any longer. But when you get permission for this police search, a whole team will come from Strathbane, and we can leak it to the press. A stink like that will hurt Ionides’s trade
and might make any of the staff who’ve decided to leave us think again.’

Hamish’s face brightened and then fell. ‘But I can’t help thinking of poor Mrs McClellan and Mrs Docherty, dragged off to Strathbane to be grilled by Blair.’

‘Someone told me he was ill.’

‘I’ll bet he’s back on duty and nastier than ever. That man’s got the most resilient kidneys and liver in the world. If he dies and there’s ever an autopsy and they
take those organs out, they’ll be able to bounce them along the floor like rubber balls.’

‘We must try to think of something,’ said Priscilla.

Despite his worry, Hamish was warmed by that ‘we’.

‘Somehow,’ Priscilla went on, ‘we’ve got to think of a way of finding a bit of proof within the next few hours.’

‘It is a self-imposed deadline, Priscilla. I could always put it off for another day.’

‘I don’t think you can put off Father’s bit of proof. I know he’ll be in trouble, but Ionides mustn’t be allowed to get away with it.’

They sat in silence. If only this case were solved, thought Hamish. If only we could sit here like in the old days.

Priscilla sat up straight. ‘The bottle bank,’ she said ‘The one with the paper.’

‘What about it?’

‘I went to Patel’s last Sunday to buy the papers, and you know what the Sunday papers are like, full of stuff nobody wants to read, supplement after supplement. They’ve got as
big as American papers. I remember reading once that there was a newspaper strike in New York, and they sold the British papers on the street, and one man lifted a whole pile thinking it must be
like
The New York Times,
and the bundle he took must be all the one paper. Anyway, I put the papers in the car and took out all the bits I didn’t want to read to put in the bottle
bank. There was even an article in one about saving the forests, and yet I had a whole tree’s worth to throw away.’

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