Death of a Witch (14 page)

In the morning, he said to Angus, “Is there anyplace you could go for a few days? I’ve a feeling there was someone after you last night.”

“I could go to my friend in Ardgay. He’ll aye put me up.”

“Do that, Angus. How did you know about Fiona McNulty?”

“My psychic powers.”

“Havers. Someone told you. I wish you really had psychic powers and you could tell me the identity of this murderer.”

“It will come to me. My cold blocked out the spirit world.”

“Och, just get packed and get off,” said Hamish.

After Angus had left in his battered old van, Hamish went back to the police station, showered and changed into his uniform, settled his pets and told them they were on their own for the day, and then phoned Jimmy. He told him his fears about Angus, caused by Elspeth doing the horoscopes.

“Is she stupid or something?” said Jimmy. “If our murderer learns it was her and not Angus, she’ll be the next on the dead list. We haven’t the manpower to guard her. Go and tell her from me to get back to Glasgow.”

Hamish drove up to the Tommel Castle Hotel and asked Mr. Johnson if he knew where Elspeth was.

“All the press were off early and over to Braikie,” said the manager. “Try there.”

“Try her room first,” urged Hamish. “She may have stayed behind to work on an article.”

The manager phoned. Elspeth answered and, hearing it was Hamish who was looking for her, said she would come downstairs.

Elspeth was wearing a ratty old sweater over faded jeans and large clumpy boots. Hamish wished she’d dress up a bit, put on a skirt, and then wondered whether, if he ever married, he would turn into the sort of bullying husband who chose his wife’s clothes.

“You look anxious,” said Elspeth. “What’s up?”

“Let’s go through to the lounge and find a quiet corner. This is serious.”

When they were seated, Hamish leaned forward and said, “Elspeth, you wrote those horoscopes in the
Highland Times
.”

“Yes, Matthew was stuck because Ang—”

“I know. I had to sleep at Angus’s place last night.”

“Why? Is he still ill?” Her eyes widened. “You think the murderer thinks it was him and might come after him?”

“Yes, I think someone tried to get him last night. Now, if it leaks out it was you, you’ll be at risk. I want you to go back to Glasgow.”

“I can’t, Hamish. This is big stuff. Four murders! The news desk will ask me why I want to leave the scene and if I say I’ve been writing for another paper, they’ll sack me.”

“Can I get you anything?”

Both looked up, startled. One of the Polish waitresses, a tall girl with red hair, was looming over them. Hamish remembered her name was Anya Kowalski.

“No, Anya,” said Hamish.

When she went away, Hamish said, “I wonder how long she was standing there.”

“I think my radar is out of kilter,” said Elspeth. “I don’t know. But I am not going to quit this story, Hamish. I can look after myself.”

Anxiety made Hamish’s temper flare. “You’re a silly wee girl!”

“Don’t you dare patronise me. If you’re so worried about me, get off your arse and go and find out who is doing this.” Elspeth got to her feet. “If you concentrated as hard on looking for a murderer as you do looking after those pets of yours, you might get somewhere.”

Hamish stood up and smiled maliciously. “Dear me, lassie. I never thought the day would come when you’d be jealous o’ a couple o’ beasties.”

Elspeth turned on her heel and strode off.

Hamish sat down again and phoned Jimmy. “She won’t leave,” he said.

“I put in a report about it after you called,” said Jimmy. “The procurator fiscal says that as we’ve enough Strathbane men on the ground asking questions, you’re to guard Elspeth yourself. He’s got a soft spot for her because a flattering picture of him and comment appeared in the
Bugle
today.”

“We had a row,” said Hamish. “How can I guard her when she won’t speak to me?”

“Ah, love,” said Jimmy. “Make it up and keep after her.”

Hamish left the lounge just as Elspeth was descending the stairs with her coat on. She had completed her ensemble by putting on one of those mushroom-shaped Afghan hats.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, Elspeth,” said Hamish quickly. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we join forces for the day?”

She looked up at him. “Been ordered to guard me?”

“I see your radar’s working again. What I really want to do is get down to Perth and interview Ruby Connachie. I want to start at the beginning. I want to find out as much about Catriona as possible. There’s someone in her background somewhere that started all this off.”

“Hamish, the murderer might be right here in Lochdubh.”

“Then there’s a chance that someone in the village might have known Catriona before she ever came up here.”

“Right you are. I could do with some colour for a background piece.”

“Off we go, then. Let’s start all over again with the first murder.”

Chapter Eight

Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy, Thou tyrant of the mind!

—John Dryden

Hamish first went to the police station and got Ruby Connachie’s address from the computer.

Jimmy stepped out in front of the mobile police unit and held up a hand to stop Hamish as he was driving off.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“Here, there, and anywhere,” said Hamish, waving a vague hand. “I have to protect Elspeth here and so I’m taking her right out of the village for the day.”

“Okay, off you go, but remember the lassie’s a journalist and don’t be talking off the record.”

“As if I would,” said Hamish piously.

Much as he desperately wanted to solve the murders, Hamish had a guilty feeling of holiday as he drove off. It was like old times to be with Elspeth again. What did she think of him these days? Should he marry her? It would be grand to be married and maybe have a couple of children.

“You’ve got a silly smile on your face,” said Elspeth. “What are you thinking about?”

“The scenery,” lied Hamish. “It’s a grand day.”

“It is indeed,” said Elspeth as they sped up over the heathery hills.

That remark about his silly smile had irked Hamish. The dream of marriage to Elspeth disappeared and he began to wonder if Ruby could actually give them any leads.

Known to the Romans as Bertha from the Celtic Aber The, meaning “the mouth of the River Tay,” Perth has been a Royal Burgh since the thirteenth century and was a royal residence through the middle ages. With its parks and Georgian houses, it is still one of the fairest of Scotland’s cities.

But like all towns and cities in Scotland, it had its housing estates, and it was in one of these that Ruby Connachie lived.

“She must be pretty old by now,” said Elspeth.

“From the reports, I gather she’s eighty-six and got all her marbles—well, those that haven’t been cracked by jealousy.”

“So she was jealous of Catriona?”

“Seems that way. She says Burrell doted on the girl for all he was strict. Here we are. I don’t suppose any of the local police will be visiting her again, so with luck Jimmy will never find out where we have been.”

Ruby lived in a block of “sheltered” housing for the elderly on the estate. Her flat was on the first floor.

Hamish rang the doorbell. There was a long silence.

“I hope the woman’s alive,” whispered Hamish.

“I sense someone in there,” said Elspeth.

After what seemed an age there was a sound of shuffling feet on the other side of the door. Then it creaked open on a chain.

A small, wrinkled face peered up at Hamish. “Who are you?”

Hamish introduced himself but not Elspeth in the hope that she would think Elspeth was a plainclothes policewoman. The door shut, and then came the sound of elderly fingers struggling to undo the chain. The door swung open again, revealing Ruby to be a small, old woman leaning on a Zimmer frame. Her figure was stooped and her grey hair, thin and sparse, showed patches of pink scalp.

The door opened directly into a small living room. It was simply furnished with two easy chairs, two hard-backed chairs, a small television set, and two occasional tables, one of which held a framed photograph of a younger Ruby on the arm of a heavyset man.

Hamish picked it up. “Is this Mr. Burrell?”

“Yes, that’s him. We would have been married if that fiend hadn’t murdered him. He put it off too long. ‘As soon as Catriona goes to university, we’ll get married,’ he’d say.”

“What was Catriona like?”

“Sleekit. That’s what she was. Sleekit. You would think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Yes, Daddy. No, Daddy. When she said she was at the library, studying, I told him I saw her hanging out in the High Street with a group of boys. When he challenged her, she burst into tears and said, ‘I was only talking to a group of school friends.’ And he believed her! I knew if I told any more tales on her, the wedding would be off.”

“Do you think anyone from the time she lived in Perth would want to kill her?”

Ruby gave an asthmatic chuckle. “Apart from me? I mind there was this young fellow, Wayne Abercrombie. I was visiting my Horace . . .”

“Horace being Mr. Burrell?” asked Hamish.

“Yes. This lad Wayne came hammering at the door demanding to speak to Catriona. Horace said she was out. Wayne said he had to see her to find out whether she meant to go through with the abortion. I thought poor Horace was going to drop dead with a heart attack. He told him to get lost or he’d call the police and he sent me home and waited for Catriona. I phoned him the next day and he wouldn’t speak about it except to say that it was all lies and he didn’t want to hear about it again.

“Oh, I wanted proof. I wanted something against her to open his eyes to what she was really like. I went in search of Wayne. He was older than Catriona and working at a garage out on the Inverness Road. Well, he tried to deny even having been at the house! Then he said it had all been a joke.”

“Where is he now?”

“He married a local lass a whiles back. I remember seeing the wedding in the local paper. He was a motor mechanic so maybe he’s in the same job. I always wonder if he was the one that stole the money.”

“What money?” asked Elspeth.

“It was the night of the day that Wayne had come to the house. Someone broke in during the night and stole five hundred pounds that Horace had in his desk. He kept it to pay workmen off the books. I know it sounds bad that a churchman should pay workers off the books but a lot of them, because of the VAT and the health and safety regulations, won’t work unless it’s for cash. The police were called. The lock on the front door had been jemmied open. Horace couldn’t understand why he didn’t wake because he was aye a light sleeper. You know what I think? I think that bitch from hell gave him some sort of sleeping pill and stole the money herself.”

“Did you tell the police any of this?” asked Hamish. “I don’t remember anything in the report.”

“No, it was a young female detective wi’ a snippy way about her. I don’t think she wanted to bother listening to me.”

After they had left her, Hamish said they should start asking at all the garages they could find and see if they could trace Wayne Abercrombie.

They were lucky the first time. He was still working at the garage out on the Inverness Road.

He was a tall man with a thick thatch of brown hair and a pleasant tanned face. But on hearing that they wanted to ask him about Catriona, he scowled and said it was all in the past and he had to get on with his work. Only Hamish’s threat to take him down to the police station made him sigh and say, “Let’s get out of here. I’ll tell them I’m taking a break and it’s about a stolen car.”

He came back shortly and stripped off his oily overalls. “Let’s go over to the pub,” he said.

Over a pint of beer, he reluctantly began his story. “Catriona was a wild one. I swear to God she seduced me. I mean, she was still a schoolgirl and her father a minister, but she got me fair worked up. Then she told me she was pregnant and I would have to marry her. I didn’t want to. There was something about her that frightened me. But I thought I’d better do the decent thing and call on her and see her father as well because she said if I didn’t marry her she would get an abortion. He wouldn’t believe me and said he’d call the police.

“The next day, Catriona turns up here and hands me five hundred pounds and tells me to keep my mouth shut and that never to tell anyone we had had sex. I asked about the baby. She sneered and said there wasn’t any baby. She just wanted to get married and get out of that house.”

“When did you last see her?” asked Hamish.

He hung his head.

“Out with it?” said Hamish sharply.

“A chap came in for repairs, a tourist, and we got to talking. He was an Australian. He said the villages were fascinating and one even had a resident witch. Her name was Catriona Beldame and he had a photo of her. I suddenly wanted to see her. I wanted to know if perhaps she really had been pregnant and had our child. So I went up there.”

“When?” demanded Hamish sharply.

“It must have been the week afore she was murdered. She was very bitter.”

“In what way?”

“She blamed everyone, starting with her father. Then she blamed me for seducing a schoolgirl. I pointed out she had seduced me and that’s when she got furious and started screaming at me to get out. That’s all. I swear I had nothing to do with her murder.”

Hamish took him through the other three murders but he had cast-iron alibis for all of them.

“Will this need to come out?” he asked. “I don’t want the wife to know.”

“I’ll try to keep it quiet,” said Hamish.

“So what do you think of what we’ve got so far?” asked Elspeth over lunch.

“Not much,” said Hamish gloomily. “I had great hopes of Wayne.”

“Might be him after all.”

“I’m sure not. I don’t want to alert Jimmy to the fact that I’m in Perth where he told me not to go.”

“That Niçoise salad of yours is going to wilt if you don’t eat it, Hamish.”

“I keep thinking I ought to eat more healthy food and yet when I get it, my appetite goes away.”