pendant.”
Hamish brought in a sheaf of notes from the office.
“She might have been killed by a woman,” said Hamish at last. “Gloria might have been messing around with someone’s husband. Or, I’m beginning to wonder, was she as bad as she’s been painted? Now, I see from the notes that all these men she had dinner with swear blind that was all. They’re all married, of course. We have only the maid Elsie Dunbar’s word for it. Maybe it just amused Gloria to get free dinners in a posh hotel. Just so long as we go on thinking of her as some sort of tart, we’ll be swamped wi’ suspects.”
“But why would Elsie lie?” asked Charlie.
“Maybe her boyfriend works at the hotel and got sweet on Gloria. I’d like to question her again.”
“I’ll go, if you like,” said Charlie.
“No!” said Fiona with unnecessary force. “You go now, Macbeth.”
Hamish left with his pets following at his heels.
At the hotel, Priscilla was in the gift shop and saw him driving up and ran out to meet him. “What a horrible woman!” she exclaimed.
“Oh, herself is all right,” said Hamish awkwardly. “I’d like another word wi’ that maid, Elsie Dunbar.”
“I’ll see if she’s still in the hotel. Wait in reception.”
After a few minutes, Priscilla reappeared with Elsie in tow.
“Now, Elsie,” said Hamish, “let’s go into the lounge and sit down. I’d like to go over your statement again.”
“I’ve said all I’ve got to say,” said Elsie stubbornly.
“Aye? Just a few more wee questions.”
When they were settled in a corner of the lounge, Hamish studied her mulish face and then said gently, “I know you were lying. And that’s a crime. Defeating the ends of justice can mean a prison sentence. So let’s have the real story.”
Elsie began to sob. Hamish waited patiently until she had dried her eyes and said, “If you tell the truth now, I’ll make sure no charges are laid against you.”
She twisted her sodden handkerchief between her fingers. “My boyfriend, Graham Southey, works in the bar. She was always flirting with him and he was not charging her for drinks. I was sure he was going to propose, but after Gloria started her tricks, he stopped dating me. I hated the bitch. I wanted everyone to know she was nothing but a cheap hoor.”
“So you lied,” said Hamish.
She nodded dumbly.
“And to your knowledge, did she ever go upstairs to any of the bedrooms?”
Elsie shook her head.
“No evidence in any of the beds that there had been any malarkey?”
“No, sir. I’m right sorry.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but don’t ever lie to the police again.”
When Hamish reported back to Fiona, she said furiously, “Why haven’t you arrested her?”
“It’s like this,” said Hamish wearily. “The lassie would have a criminal record. I understand why she lied. You see, ma’am, up here, it’s better to sort out these things without hauling people off to prison. That way, they feel safe to tell me things they might not otherwise think of doing.”
“It is a good way of doing things,” said Charlie gently. “You see, the way things usually go, if Macbeth sends over a report, Mr. Blair will get his hands on it and before you know it, the lassie will be dragged in and accused of murder. Mr. Daviot is under such strong pressure from the press that he’ll go along with it.”
“Surely not!”
“It’s happened in other cases,” said Hamish.
“I’ll let it go for now. Now, Anderson called while you were out. The gamekeeper, Harry Mackay, said he called in at the kitchen with a brace of pheasant just before she was murdered. She was twirling round the kitchen, laughing and singing and saying she was going to be rich. But she didn’t say how or why.”
“I wonder if the seer knows anything,” said Hamish.
“Good God!” exclaimed Fiona. “Are you going to consult the spirits?”
“It’s Angus Macdonald. He relies on a lot of local gossip so
Hamish brought in a sheaf of notes from the office.
“She might have been killed by a woman,” said Hamish at last. “Gloria might have been messing around with someone’s husband. Or, I’m beginning to wonder, was she as bad as she’s been painted? Now, I see from the notes that all these men she had dinner with swear blind that was all. They’re all married, of course. We have only the maid Elsie Dunbar’s word for it. Maybe it just amused Gloria to get free dinners in a posh hotel. Just so long as we go on thinking of her as some sort of tart, we’ll be swamped wi’ suspects.”
“But why would Elsie lie?” asked Charlie.
“Maybe her boyfriend works at the hotel and got sweet on Gloria. I’d like to question her again.”
“I’ll go, if you like,” said Charlie.
“No!” said Fiona with unnecessary force. “You go now, Macbeth.”
Hamish left with his pets following at his heels.
At the hotel, Priscilla was in the gift shop and saw him driving up and ran out to meet him. “What a horrible woman!” she exclaimed.
“Oh, herself is all right,” said Hamish awkwardly. “I’d like another word wi’ that maid, Elsie Dunbar.”
“I’ll see if she’s still in the hotel. Wait in reception.”
After a few minutes, Priscilla reappeared with Elsie in tow.
“Now, Elsie,” said Hamish, “let’s go into the lounge and sit down. I’d like to go over your statement again.”
“I’ve said all I’ve got to say,” said Elsie stubbornly.
“Aye? Just a few more wee questions.”
When they were settled in a corner of the lounge, Hamish studied her mulish face and then said gently, “I know you were lying. And that’s a crime. Defeating the ends of justice can mean a prison sentence. So let’s have the real story.”
Elsie began to sob. Hamish waited patiently until she had dried her eyes and said, “If you tell the truth now, I’ll make sure no charges are laid against you.”
She twisted her sodden handkerchief between her fingers. “My boyfriend, Graham Southey, works in the bar. She was always flirting with him and he was not charging her for drinks. I was sure he was going to propose, but after Gloria started her tricks, he stopped dating me. I hated the bitch. I wanted everyone to know she was nothing but a cheap hoor.”
“So you lied,” said Hamish.
She nodded dumbly.
“And to your knowledge, did she ever go upstairs to any of the bedrooms?”
Elsie shook her head.
“No evidence in any of the beds that there had been any malarkey?”
“No, sir. I’m right sorry.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but don’t ever lie to the police again.”
When Hamish reported back to Fiona, she said furiously, “Why haven’t you arrested her?”
“It’s like this,” said Hamish wearily. “The lassie would have a criminal record. I understand why she lied. You see, ma’am, up here, it’s better to sort out these things without hauling people off to prison. That way, they feel safe to tell me things they might not otherwise think of doing.”
“It is a good way of doing things,” said Charlie gently. “You see, the way things usually go, if Macbeth sends over a report, Mr. Blair will get his hands on it and before you know it, the lassie will be dragged in and accused of murder. Mr. Daviot is under such strong pressure from the press that he’ll go along with it.”
“Surely not!”
“It’s happened in other cases,” said Hamish.
“I’ll let it go for now. Now, Anderson called while you were out. The gamekeeper, Harry Mackay, said he called in at the kitchen with a brace of pheasant just before she was murdered. She was twirling round the kitchen, laughing and singing and saying she was going to be rich. But she didn’t say how or why.”
“I wonder if the seer knows anything,” said Hamish.
“Good God!” exclaimed Fiona. “Are you going to consult the spirits?”
“It’s Angus Macdonald. He relies on a lot of local gossip so
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