he’d paid for the writing class.’
‘And did he?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was he drinking?’
‘No, he’s sworn off. He just writes and writes. Drives me mad. At least when he was on the drink, he would pass out sooner or later and give me a bit o’ peace. Anyway,
I’ve had enough of him. I’m off to my sister in Oban.’
‘But if they haven’t any hard evidence, it’ll never get to court and he’ll be released.’
‘Well, I won’t be here waiting for him – him and his writing.’
‘Surely that’s better than the drink.’
A mulish look settled on her weak face.
Hamish repressed a sigh. He’d seen cases like this so many times before. The woman prays and prays that her man will give up the bottle, and when he does, she leaves him and usually moves
in after a while with another drunk. These women had the awful craving to be needed, even if it meant lying for the drunk and cleaning up after him.
‘You’d better give me your address in Oban,’ he said.
‘Why? Alistair’s got nothing to do with me any more.’
Hamish said patiently, ‘The police will want to interview you further. Don’t you have to make a statement?’
‘I’ve already talked to that fat bully. I told him Alistair went out at five and came back at six.’
‘Give me the address anyway.’
She told him her sister’s address, and he wrote it carefully in his notebook.
‘And what about your son, Dermott? Won’t he be upset at being taken out of school?’
‘No, he says he’ll be glad to get away as well.’
Outside, Hamish said to Lugs, ‘We’re off to Cnothan. If Perry saw him, maybe someone else saw him and heard something.’
He drove off to Cnothan, and as he was driving through that dreary village, he saw one of those itinerate door-to-door salesmen who sell dusters and brushes and stuff for the kitchen. He stopped
the Land Rover and got out.
The salesman, a shabby young man, was just leaving one of the houses. Hamish hailed him.
‘I’ve got a licence,’ said the man defiantly. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘I just want to know if you went to any of the outlying cottages on the day that man was murdered.’
‘Aye, I even went to that fellow’s cottage afore he was murdered.’
‘What time of day would that be?’
‘Early evening. Not sure of the time.’
‘And you saw him?’
‘Only for a wee bit. He was having a blazing row wi’ a big fellow. The big fellow was shouting, “I want my money back.” And then the man what’s now dead said,
“Oh, take it and get lost.”’
‘Now, listen carefully. Did you see the big man drive off?’
‘Aye, he jumped into a battered wee car and roared away. I went up to the door, but afore I could open my mouth it was slammed in my face.’
‘You’ve got to come with me to the police station and make a statement. It is very important. Have you transport?’
‘I’ve got my bike.’
‘You heard all about the murder. Didn’t you think to talk to the police?’
‘Why? I didnae do it and the man was alive when I saw him.’
‘Right. Follow me.’
‘Can you be giving me a bed for the night?’
‘I’ve got one cell with a bed in it. You can use that and then return to Cnothan in the morning.’
‘I’ve had enough of this place. I’ve never met such a bunch o’ sour-faced bastards in my life.’
‘Let’s go.’
In the police station at Lochdubh, Hamish typed while the salesman – who gave his name as Hugh Ryan – talked.
‘What did the man arguing with John Heppel look like?’
‘He was thickset with grey curly hair and a sort of beat-up face.’’
‘And what was he wearing?’
‘A donkey jacket and jeans.’
‘And the car?’
‘A dirty white one with rust on the driver’s side. I could see that from the lights shining out of the house.’
Hamish typed busily and then sent his report over to Strathbane. He grinned as he pressed the key to send it on its way, feeling as if he were launching an Exocet in the
‘And did he?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was he drinking?’
‘No, he’s sworn off. He just writes and writes. Drives me mad. At least when he was on the drink, he would pass out sooner or later and give me a bit o’ peace. Anyway,
I’ve had enough of him. I’m off to my sister in Oban.’
‘But if they haven’t any hard evidence, it’ll never get to court and he’ll be released.’
‘Well, I won’t be here waiting for him – him and his writing.’
‘Surely that’s better than the drink.’
A mulish look settled on her weak face.
Hamish repressed a sigh. He’d seen cases like this so many times before. The woman prays and prays that her man will give up the bottle, and when he does, she leaves him and usually moves
in after a while with another drunk. These women had the awful craving to be needed, even if it meant lying for the drunk and cleaning up after him.
‘You’d better give me your address in Oban,’ he said.
‘Why? Alistair’s got nothing to do with me any more.’
Hamish said patiently, ‘The police will want to interview you further. Don’t you have to make a statement?’
‘I’ve already talked to that fat bully. I told him Alistair went out at five and came back at six.’
‘Give me the address anyway.’
She told him her sister’s address, and he wrote it carefully in his notebook.
‘And what about your son, Dermott? Won’t he be upset at being taken out of school?’
‘No, he says he’ll be glad to get away as well.’
Outside, Hamish said to Lugs, ‘We’re off to Cnothan. If Perry saw him, maybe someone else saw him and heard something.’
He drove off to Cnothan, and as he was driving through that dreary village, he saw one of those itinerate door-to-door salesmen who sell dusters and brushes and stuff for the kitchen. He stopped
the Land Rover and got out.
The salesman, a shabby young man, was just leaving one of the houses. Hamish hailed him.
‘I’ve got a licence,’ said the man defiantly. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘I just want to know if you went to any of the outlying cottages on the day that man was murdered.’
‘Aye, I even went to that fellow’s cottage afore he was murdered.’
‘What time of day would that be?’
‘Early evening. Not sure of the time.’
‘And you saw him?’
‘Only for a wee bit. He was having a blazing row wi’ a big fellow. The big fellow was shouting, “I want my money back.” And then the man what’s now dead said,
“Oh, take it and get lost.”’
‘Now, listen carefully. Did you see the big man drive off?’
‘Aye, he jumped into a battered wee car and roared away. I went up to the door, but afore I could open my mouth it was slammed in my face.’
‘You’ve got to come with me to the police station and make a statement. It is very important. Have you transport?’
‘I’ve got my bike.’
‘You heard all about the murder. Didn’t you think to talk to the police?’
‘Why? I didnae do it and the man was alive when I saw him.’
‘Right. Follow me.’
‘Can you be giving me a bed for the night?’
‘I’ve got one cell with a bed in it. You can use that and then return to Cnothan in the morning.’
‘I’ve had enough of this place. I’ve never met such a bunch o’ sour-faced bastards in my life.’
‘Let’s go.’
In the police station at Lochdubh, Hamish typed while the salesman – who gave his name as Hugh Ryan – talked.
‘What did the man arguing with John Heppel look like?’
‘He was thickset with grey curly hair and a sort of beat-up face.’’
‘And what was he wearing?’
‘A donkey jacket and jeans.’
‘And the car?’
‘A dirty white one with rust on the driver’s side. I could see that from the lights shining out of the house.’
Hamish typed busily and then sent his report over to Strathbane. He grinned as he pressed the key to send it on its way, feeling as if he were launching an Exocet in the
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