Read Online Death of Yesterday by M. C. Beaton - Free Book Online Page A

“Hamish is in trouble,” he said. “I wasnae at the hotel. I spent the night at the police station as usual.”
    “Why . . . ?”
    “Just do it.”
    Dick headed for Strathbane hospital at the same time as a policeman arrived carrying a large handbag. “It’s that Hannah female’s bag,” said the policeman. “She’s been screaming for it.”
    “I’ve got orders to see her about something,” said Dick. “I’ll take it up to her.”
    “Grand.”
    Dick seized the handbag and went into the hospital. He easily gained access to the private room where Hannah was lying.
    “Oh, my handbag,” she cried. “Will the press be here? I must fix my face.”
    Dick pulled a chair up to the bed and said in a low voice, “You’re about to lose Hamish his job. If it gets out that he spent the night with you, he’s toast.”
    “Oh, poor Hamish. I won’t say anything. Hold that mirror for me.”
    “You’d better say you had read that case about the Pal-fours and decided to have a look at them for yourself—nothing to do with Hamish. Keep him out of it.”
    “But Hamish and I are sweethearts.”
    Dick cunningly eyed the make-up repairs going on and all the lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara now spread out over the bed.
    “Och, a beauty like you doesn’t want to waste your time on a village bobby,” he said. “You’ll be on telly, a beauty like you. You could be in films. This could be your big break.”
    This went straight to Hannah’s narcissistic soul. Her eyes widened. “You think so?”
    “I know so. I mean, look at Hamish. He’s aye avoided promotion. He’s no’ going anywhere up the ladder. You’ll be stuck in a police station during the long winters. Nothing to do. Thought o’ that?”
    “But poor Hamish will be so hurt if I dump him!”
    “Not as hurt as he’ll be if he loses his job. When Detective Chief Inspector Blair arrives to question you, you’re to say that Hamish put you up for the night and slept in a bed in the cell.”
    The door opened and a doctor and nurse walked in. “What are you doing here, Constable?” the doctor demanded. “The patient must rest.”
    “Just a wee interview,” said Dick. “Does she need an operation?”
    “Fortunately not,” said the doctor. “Her head must be like iron. But she must have peace and quiet to recover from a concussion. Aren’t you supposed to be on guard outside the door?”
    “Oh, aye,” said Dick, making his retreat.
    As Dick left, he glanced back down the corridor and saw the policeman who was supposed to be on guard returning, carrying a cardboard container of coffee.
    He only hoped the doctor thought one policeman looked like another.
    Hamish wondered what on earth had happened to Dick. But Dick was back in Lochdubh, having hitched a lift, and doing what he did best: manipulating and gossiping about how Hannah had been ruthlessly chasing after Hamish but he had turned her down, being too good a member of the police force to have an affair with the sister of a suspect. Hannah had lured him into having dinner with her by saying she had important information on the murders, which, it turned out, she did not. Then she had said she was too drunk to drive and poor Hamish had to put her up for the night and sleep in the cell. Dick had taken a staff room at the Tommel Castle Hotel, next to the kitchen, and only the manager had seen him come and go. And so, when questioned by Blair, Dick was able to claim that he had been at the police station on the night in question and that nothing had taken place between Hamish and Hannah.
    Hamish waited uneasily for the axe to fall. Jimmy called on him that evening. “I don’t know what happened,” he said, “but Blair is fit to bust. Hannah Fleming says you put her up at the station because she had too much to drink and you had to sleep in the cell. Dick sent over a memo to that effect.”
    “I would ha’ thought Blair would be too busy grilling the Palfours to bother about her,” said