Death of an Addict (20 page)

She hesitated and then suddenly smiled. ‘I’d like that.’

‘I don’t think anyone they’ve arrested is going to say anything about Tommy’s death,’ said Hamish. ‘They know they wouldn’t last long in prison if they
talked. Do you want anything more to eat? That buffet supper at headquarters wasn’t very filling.’

‘No, I’m all right. I’m very tired. I think I’ll go to bed.’

Later they lay in their twin beds in the darkness. Olivia rubbed her wrists, which still hurt from the wire. She closed her eyes but terror seized her. She was once more in
that boat, tied up, without hope.

‘Hamish!’ she wailed.

He came to her and got in beside her in the narrow bed and folded his arms about her. ‘Hush,’ he said. ‘It’s all right. Hamish is here,’ and he cradled her like a
child until she fell asleep.

In the morning, Blair sought an audience with Daviot.

‘Good heavens,’ said Daviot. ‘You look a wreck.’

Blair was unshaven, his eyes bloodshot, and he looked as if he had slept in his clothes.

‘I want your advice, sir,’ said Blair humbly.

‘Of course.’

‘The fact is, sir, I’m having trouble with the drink. Och, why beat about the bush. I’m an alcoholic.’

‘Are you sure? We all like our dram.’

‘The pressure of work has been making it worse,’ said Blair. ‘There’s this rehab in Inverness which can take me for six weeks to get me cured. I would like to go there as
soon as possible.’

Daviot was touched. ‘Of course you can go. You are too valuable an officer to lose. You were quite right to come to me. A lot of famous people are alcoholics and take the cure,’ said
the superintendent, naively convinced that there was a cure for alcoholism. ‘Keep in touch with us about how you are getting on. I was going to discuss our investigations into how Jimmy White
got tipped off, but I think you need a break from it all.’

‘I do, I do,’ said Blair fervently.

‘And don’t worry. Your whereabouts will be our secret.’

Blair thanked him fulsomely and left. He felt he had covered his tracks thoroughly. He had never discussed his snouts with anyone. He would suffer this damn rehab and keep his ear to the ground.
One murmur that they had sussed him, and he would disappear.

Hamish began to fret about sleeping arrangements as he and Olivia travelled by police car driven by Kevin to Lochdubh. There was only one double bedroom. There was one cell
with a bed in it, but he didn’t much relish sleeping in it.

Kevin was silent and morose and, when they arrived at the police station, said curtly that he had better be getting straight back. He felt that he and Barry had been unfairly blamed for not
keeping a close eye on Hamish and Olivia.

‘Home at last,’ said Hamish with a sigh. He led her through to the bedroom. ‘This is all I’ve got,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I’ve got a bed in the cell I can
use.’

She smiled at him, a wonderful smile.

‘It’s all right, Hamish. I won’t turn you out of your bed. We’ll share it.’

‘Grand,’ said Hamish, who felt like whooping and cheering. He put his suitcase on the bed and opened it.

‘Hamish, you’ve brought all those expensive clothes back with you!’

‘Aye, well, I feel I deserve them.’

‘Thief!’

‘No, chust taking advantage of a new wardrobe. I’ll leave you to unpack. I thought we might have a bit of lunch and then call over on Parry McSporran.’

‘The crofter who keeps the chalets?’

‘Yes. May as well get started.’

Hamish went through to the kitchen. There was nothing to make a lunch.

‘I forgot to do any shopping,’ he called. ‘When you’re ready, I’ll take you out for lunch.’

Half an hour later they walked along to the Napoli restaurant, Hamish stopping every so often to introduce Olivia to the locals. ‘We’d best call on Archie Macleod sometime today and
thank him properly,’ he said.

They went into the restaurant. Willie Lamont was waiting table. In the heady days when Hamish had been promoted to sergeant before being demoted, Willie had been his police constable but had
fallen in love with a relative of the restaurant owner, had married her and had left the force.

Hamish made for the table at the window. Willie, who was a compulsive cleaner, rushed to wipe the table. ‘This will be that police officer you was kidnapped with.’

‘Yes, this is Chief Inspector Chater from Glasgow.’

‘So it isnae a romance, then?’

‘Give us the menus, Willie, and push off.’

Willie handed them the menus. ‘You have to watch out for Macbeth.’ he said to Olivia. ‘One christ after another.’

Olivia blinked.

‘He means crisis,’ said Hamish, who was used to translating Willie’s malapropisms.

He looked at the menu. ‘The veal escalope’s good.’

‘I’m a pasta junkie,’ said Olivia. ‘I’ll have the linguine with the clam sauce.’

‘Do we want wine?’

‘Better leave it until this evening,’ said Olivia. ‘We’ll do some shopping and I’ll cook dinner.’

While they ate, Olivia went over and over again their ordeal on the boat. Hamish listened, knowing she had to talk it out. No victim support or therapy for us, he thought. We just need to help
each other to get over it.

Then she asked him to tell her again all about the death of Tommy Jarret.

‘The thing that still bothers me,’ said Hamish, ‘is why did he go to the Church of the Rising Sun? No drugs were found there. All the congregation seemed to talk about was sex.
And yet he was searching from some sort of spiritual belief.’

‘Some sort of religious belief?’ asked Olivia.

‘Not exactly. You know what they say, religion’s for those who believe in hell and a spiritual belief is for those who’ve been there. Maybe you could get that girl Felicity to
talk a bit more.’

The restaurant smells of good cooking were being replaced by a strong smell of disinfectant. ‘It’s late. We’re the only customers now,’ said Hamish, ‘and Willie is
making sure there isn’t one germ left behind.’

‘What’s the time?’

‘Three-thirty.’

‘Already! Let’s do some shopping.’

They left the restaurant and walked along to Patel’s, the general store. Hamish paid from a wallet stuffed with notes.

‘Hamish,’ said Olivia when they were outside, ‘surely that’s still some of the money they gave you to flash around when you were supposed to be a drug baron. You were
supposed to hand over what was left or at least account for it on your expenses.’

‘I’ll think of something,’ said Hamish.

After they had put the groceries away, they drove to Glenanstey. ‘It’s a grand day,’ said Hamish, ‘but it’ll get dark quite soon now.’

‘I find this landscape quite intimidating,’ said Olivia, looking up at the towering mountains. ‘It must be a bleak place in the winter.’

‘We get some bad winters.’ Hamish sounded defensive. ‘But not as bad as they have further south. We’re near the Gulf Stream up here. They even have palm trees down in
Rossshire.’

‘Nonetheless, I would miss the lights of the city.’

Hamish drove on in silence. He had a feeling that what that exchange had really meant was – Don’t get any ideas, Hamish Macbeth. I am not going to live up here with you.

Parry’s cottage was deserted. Hamish went up on to a rise and scanned the surroundings. No sign of Parry and his car was not outside the house.

‘Let’s see if the fair Felicity is at home,’ he said.

Felicity opened the door to them. ‘What now?’ she asked.

‘Just a chat,’ said Hamish.

‘Who’s she?’

Hamish pressed Olivia’s arm warningly. ‘My girlfriend up from Glasgow.’

‘So what is it?’

‘I wanted to ask you a few more questions about Tommy.’

‘I’ve told you all I know. My case comes up before the sheriff next week.’

‘Look, can we come in?’

‘If you must.’

She turned and walked through the kitchen and into the living room.

‘I’m still interested in why Tommy went to that Church of the Rising Sun,’ said Hamish. ‘Tommy struck me as a bright boy and the people there were rubbish.’

‘He said something about finding cults fascinating.’

‘And that was all?’

‘I s’pose.’ Felicity shrugged her thin shoulders. The sun was going down and despite the cold of the approaching evening and the cold in the chalet, Felicity was wearing a
scanty top and a long floating skirt of Indian cotton. But there was a sprinkling of gooseflesh on her thin arms. Hamish wondered if her parents had cut off her allowance and that was why she had
not turned on any heating. But Parry would surely supply her with peat for the fire and not charge for it and yet the fire was unlit. Probably one of those people who considered heat a decadent
weakness.

‘I would have liked to see Tommy’s Bible,’ said Hamish.

‘Why? Do you think there might be cryptic clues in Exodus, Sherlock?’

Hamish looked at her with irritation. That was exactly what he had been thinking, or that perhaps if Tommy had had any notes, they might be in the Bible.

‘I find it odd it hasn’t been found.’

‘Look, would you shove off? I haven’t anything more to tell you.’

‘You might think of something,’ said Hamish. ‘Where’s Parry?’

‘How should I know?’

Hamish gave up.

Outside, he said to Olivia, ‘We may as well try Parry later. There’s a good tea shop down in the village.’

‘I couldn’t eat anything after that lunch.’

‘We’ll just have tea. Miss Black, who runs it, is very sharp. She might know something.’

As they got into the police Land Rover and drove off, Hamish could see Felicity’s pale face at the kitchen window, looking at them.

‘This isn’t a village. It’s a hamlet,’ remarked Olivia as they drove into Glenanstey.

‘And full of rude forefathers,’ said Hamish.

Olivia surveyed the small huddle of houses. ‘Why would anyone want to live here?’ she marvelled.

‘Because it’s beautiful,’ said Hamish testily. His little dream of himself and Olivia settling down at the Lochdubh police station was fading fast. ‘Well, Miss Black
likes it and runs a good business. Here we are.’

He parked outside the tea shop and they went in.

‘You’re latish,’ said Miss Black. ‘I was just thinking of closing up. But sit down. What can I get you?’

‘Just tea,’ said Olivia.

When Miss Black bustled back with a fat pottery teapot, milk and sugar and cups, she smiled at Olivia and said, ‘The tea’s real. No tea bags here.’

‘Won’t you join us?’ said Hamish. ‘This is Chief Inspector Chater from Glasgow. Although we are both officially on holiday, I’m still puzzled by poor Tommy
Jarret’s death.’

‘Yes, it is puzzling,’ said Miss Black, sitting down at their table. ‘He was so young, so confident, although always talking about seeking the meaning of life and that’s
apt to rob anyone of their sense of humour.’

‘Yes, there was talk of him being religious,’ said Hamish. ‘His Bible was never found and I wonder why. His parents would like it.’

‘Oh, the Bible,’ said Miss Black. ‘He left it here the day before he died.’

‘Have you got it?’ asked Hamish.

‘No, I gave it to Mr McSporran.’

‘When?’

‘I took it over on my way to work, the day Tommy died. I was in a rush and I saw Mr McSporran in the lower field with his sheep and so I gave it to him.’

The door opened and two ramblers walked in.

‘Excuse me,’ said Miss Black, and rose to serve them.

‘We’d better go and have a look at that Bible,’ said Olivia.

‘I don’t understand.’ Hamish shook his head in bewilderment. ‘Why would Parry keep it and not say anything?’

‘Maybe he did give it to Tommy, and whoever killed the boy found it and took it away. I mean, you did say you thought there ought to be more of that book he was writing. So maybe they took
that away and took the Bible as well.’

Hamish’s face cleared. ‘That must be it.’

Olivia frowned. ‘You know Parry well?’

‘Yes, we’re friends. I usually drop in on him for a cup of coffee when I’m out this way.’

‘Did not his choice of tenants strike you as odd? One junkie and one magic mushroom picker? Bit of a coincidence.’

Hamish darkened. ‘It can’t be anything more than a coincidence.’

‘But wouldn’t it be an idea just to ask him about a few things?’

‘Aye,’ said Hamish heavily. ‘Let’s go.’

Parry’s car was once more parked outside his croft house. Hamish knocked at the door and Parry opened it.

‘A few words,’ said Hamish.

‘Right you are,’ said Parry cheerfully. ‘It’s all over the place about your kidnapping. This’ll be that woman inspector I read about.’

‘Yes, this is Olivia. We’ve just had tea at Miss Black’s. Parry, she says she gave you Tommy’s Bible on the morning of the day he died.’

Parry struck his forehead. ‘So she did! Didn’t I tell you?’

‘No, you didn’t. Why?’

‘I’m telling you, that boy’s death put it clean out of my mind.’

‘So may we have it, please.’

‘I put it out with the rubbish.’

‘Why?’ demanded Hamish.

‘Och, like I said, I had forgotten it so I didn’t want to be accused of keeping it so I put it in the rubbish, like I said.’

Hamish’s heart was sinking by the minute. There was very little rubbish put out from a croft house. Food refuse went on to the compost heap. Paper was burned. But all Highland crofters
were superstitious. None of them would burn a Bible.

‘And when did you put it in the rubbish?’

‘A couple of days ago.’

‘Look, Parry. That was withholding evidence. That was
destroying
evidence.’

‘But the case is closed!’

‘You knew I had my suspicions about the lad’s death. And what about the parents? Didn’t you think they might have wanted their son’s Bible?’

‘It’s no big deal, Hamish. Och, you’re just showing off in front of the lady here.’

Hamish loomed over him. ‘I’ll be back, Parry.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Neffer you mind, Parry. Come on, Olivia.’