Part 8 (1/2)
”This is Dr. Queen,” said Sandy.
The doctor was a thin, spare man with a face set in lines of permanent arrogance. ”I gather you're some sort of local bobby from the west coast,” he said. ”Well, stand aside, man, and let's have a look at her.”
”Gently, now,” warned Hamish. ”Don't disturb anything.”
The doctor ignored him. ”Bring that lantern closer, Sandy,” he said. ”Mmm, yes. As I thought. She was blown off the top of the crag and broke her neck. Sad but straightforward. Get some men to take her up, Sandy, and get her put in my surgery while I prepare a report for the procurator fiscal.”
”You are not to touch her.” Hamish Macbeth stood foursquare beside the body.
”Why not?”
”Because I think it might be murder. I think someone struck her a savage blow on the neck wi' a rock.”
”Dear me, don't be a fool, there's a good fellow,” said the doctor.
”I repeat: no one touches this body until a team from Strathbane arrives,” said Hamish stubbornly.
”You have not the authority. This is my island,” protested Sandy.
”Aye, and-you'll find yourself off it soon enough if I have my way,” snapped Hamish. ”I'm telling you to leave it where it is or, by G.o.d, I'll make trouble for both o' ye.”
The doctor glared at him, but sn.o.bbery came to Hamish's rescue. Had Hamish been a holidaying policeman who was bird-watching or hiking, then Dr. Queen would have ignored him. But this Macbeth was a guest at The Happy Wanderer where, the doctor had learned, there was a barrister in residence. He and the other guests might back Hamish.
”Have it your way,” he said haughtily. ”But you're going to look a right idiot, wasting the taxpayers' money like this.”
Hamish turned to Sandy. ”Are you going to phone headquarters, or am I?”
”Oh, you do it, laddie,” jeered Sandy.
”Then get a tent over the body and set two men to guard it. I'll be back.”
One of the islanders ran Hamish to The Happy Wanderer. When he went into the lounge, the guests started up. There were also five of the island women there who, it turned out, worked as servants at the hotel during the season. Hatred for Jane seemed to have disappeared with the tragedy, and they were all exclaiming and commiserating in their soft island voices, changed from sinister threatening figures to a group of ordinary women.
”This is terrible,” said Jane.
”Where is Diarmuid?”
”In his room. He's phoned his secretary, Jessie Maclean, and told her to get up here as fast as possible. I've heard of Jessie. Seems she does everything for him, including thinking, or that's the way Heather put it once.”
”I've got calls to make,” said Hamish, and Jane led him into the office and left him.
Hamish decided to phone the bane of his life, Detective Chief Inspector Blair, and make his report to him direct. If he did not, it'was ten to one that it would be Blair who would arrive anyway, and a Blair sulky that Hamish had not told him about it firsthand.
Blair gave Hamish his customary greeting in his heavy Glasgow accent. ”How are ye, pillock?”
”Listen,” said Hamish. ”I'm staying at a place called The Happy Wanderer on Eileencraig. One of the guests appears to have fallen off a crag and broken her neck, but I'm convinced it's murder.”
There was a silence, and then Blair said sharply, ”Are ye sure? Working in the holidays is a pain in the a.r.s.e as it is, and ah'm no' that keen tae get the police helicopter oot on a wild-goose chase.”
”I promised if there wa.s.s ever another murder, I'd let ye inonit,”said Hamish. ”I think you ought to come and bring the works.”
”Oh, well, ah never cared much for Christmas anyways. As long as I'm back for Hogmanay, it'll suit me. I could be daein' wi' the overtime.”
Hamish briefly gave a description of where the body was to be found, what the local doctor had said, why he, Hamish, thought it might be murder, and a brief summary of the little he knew of the Todds. Blair recorded it all and told Hamish to watch the body and that he and the forensic team should be with him in a couple of hours.
Hamish rang off and then rested his elbows on the desk and wondered if he was making a fool of himself. The wind had been savage. She could easily have been Mown off flat crag.
The office door opened and Harriet came in and stood looking at him quietly. ”Surely an accident,” she said.
”ft could be murder, Harriet.”
”But we were all here!”
Not when we were searching for her, thought Hamish. Someone could have found her when they were out searching and struck her down.
”It's got to be investigated anyway,” said Hamish wearily. ”I've got to get back and make sure they don't move the body.”
”Give me a few minutes and I'll come with you. I can make a thermos of coffee and some sandwiches and take blankets along. No, don't protest. It's better than waiting here. There are more islanders arriving, men this time. They're all being terribly nice to Jane. It's a great pity it had to be Heather's death that brought this about. I won't be very long.”
Hamish went back to the lounge. Jane had found a long black dress and put it on. She was dispensing large whiskies to the islanders. Perhaps it was genuine sympathy, or perhaps because the news that free whisky being served acted on the Highland and Island brain wonderfully, but more islanders kept arriving every minute.
Hamish went to Diarmuid's room and quietly opened the door. Diarmuid was sitting in an armchair, staring into s.p.a.ce.
”I'll get matters cleared up as soon as possible,” said Hamish quietly. ”Are you all right?”
”My G.o.d,” said Diarmuid in a low voice, ”I don't feel a d.a.m.n thing.”
”Shock,” said Hamish. ”Do you want someone to sit with you?”
Diarmuid shuddered. ”I 'd rather be alone, Hamish.”
”I'll send someone to fetch the doctor. You need a sedative to settle you for the night.”
Hamish went back to the lounge. John Wetherby came up to him. ”Can't you get rid of these people?” he asked. ”This is hardly the occasion for a party.”
”I think it's better for Jane that they stay,” said Hamish. ”It's high time they found out she's just an ordinary person like themselves.”
John made a contemptuous noise which sounded like ”garrr,” and strode off. The Carpenters were talking to some of the islanders. They did not look shocked, rather they looked happy and excited. Ian was talking about sheep, a subject close to any islander's heart, and he had a rapt audience.
Harriet came back carrying a large bag. ”Blankets and food,” she said briskly.
”Right,” said Hamish. ”Now let's see if someone can lend me a car.”
One islander, clutching a large tumbler of whisky, cheerfully parted with his car keys and Hamish with Harriet made his way back over to the west.
The men put on guard were happy to be relieved. ”We will chust be going over to that hotel to offer our condolences,” said one eagerly.
”That's nice of them,” said Harriet when the men had left after Hamish had instructed them to find Dr. Queen and send him to The Happy Wanderer to attend to Diarmuid.