destroyed the evidence, didn’t they? They hope to inherit. Anderson, get on to thae lawyers in Inverness and get one o’ them up here fast. I bet the pair of them get a chunk o’ the old man’s money in that will.’
Hamish groaned inwardly. Blair, he knew, had a deep mistrust of all foreigners. ‘Look, they’re both very correct servants,’ said Hamish. ‘They’ve been in this country for a long time. They speak English better than you …’
‘Just watch your lip, laddie.’
‘I would also advise you to go easy on the racist remarks you usually make about foreigners,’ said Hamish firmly. ‘Enrico could easily get you in trouble. He’s no fool.’
‘You mean the Race Relations Board,’ sneered Blair. ‘That lot o’ Commies don’t know their arse from their elbow. I’m no’ scared o’ them. Furthermair, whit’s a village bobby doing advising me? Bugger off, Sherlock, and leave me to wrap this up.’
Hamish walked stiffly from the room. If, just if, he solved this case, then he would go out of his way to expose Blair for the crass fool he was. But, said a voice in his head, that would mean promotion and leaving Lochdubh and your cosy life.
When Enrico was summoned again to the library, his sharp dark eyes ranged about the room. ‘Speaka da English?’ asked Blair with heavy irony.
‘I am looking for the tape recorder,’ said Enrico. ‘This is, I take it, the official interview. So it should be recorded.’
‘You listen tae me, you cheeky pillock,’ roared Blair. ‘I’ll conduct this interview any way I like and any more complaints from you and I’ll have you deported.’
‘You cannot,’ pointed out Enrico. ‘I am a British citizen, as is my wife.’
Blair launched into a series of bullying haranguing questions punctuated with insults about greasy Spaniards. Enrico answered when he could and what he could and then got to his feet. ‘I hivnae finished,’ roared Blair.
‘I think I had better leave you to consider your manner and behaviour,’ said Enrico. He took a tape recorder out of his pocket. ‘I have recorded this interview. Unless you conduct yourself in a polite manner, this tape will go to your superiors at Strathbane.’
Blair’s eyes bulged with fury. Jimmy Anderson stepped forward. ‘Run along,’ he said to Enrico. ‘We’ll call you when we want you again.’
‘Jeezus,’ groaned Blair.
‘Aye,’ said Jimmy, ‘can you imagine what Superintendent Daviot would say when he heard that? He’d kick ye out so hard, you’d be skidding on your bum frae here to Glasgow.’
‘Well, you know whit tae do,’ growled Blair. ‘We’re going tae search all the rooms, right? Get that tape and wipe it out!’
Hamish went up to Titchy’s bedroom. The forensic team had arrived. Men in white boiler suits were dusting for prints and cutting little bits off the pile of the carpet near the wardrobe. ‘Could the body have been killed somewhere else,’ Hamish asked one, ‘and then put in the wardrobe?’
‘Could be,’ said the man. ‘It would take more than one person or a very strong man. You see, the fact that the body remained upright, propped against the closed door, either meant that he had been killed earlier somewhere else and rigor had set in, or that the narrow confines of the wardrobe kept the body supported until Miss Gold opened the door.’
‘I don’t think there was time for rigor to set in,’ said Hamish. ‘Maybe Titchy Gold actually saw a dummy before she went to bed and someone killed the old man during the night and substituted his body for the dummy. But she’d need to be a verra heavy sleeper.’
He turned away and almost bumped into Jimmy Anderson, who was grinning all over his narrow foxy face. ‘Blair says you’re to help in the search, starting wi’ the servants’ room.’
‘Meaning he’s put his foot in it with Enrico?’
‘Aye. He bashed on like the bigot he is and the wee Spaniard taped the lot and is threatening to send
Hamish groaned inwardly. Blair, he knew, had a deep mistrust of all foreigners. ‘Look, they’re both very correct servants,’ said Hamish. ‘They’ve been in this country for a long time. They speak English better than you …’
‘Just watch your lip, laddie.’
‘I would also advise you to go easy on the racist remarks you usually make about foreigners,’ said Hamish firmly. ‘Enrico could easily get you in trouble. He’s no fool.’
‘You mean the Race Relations Board,’ sneered Blair. ‘That lot o’ Commies don’t know their arse from their elbow. I’m no’ scared o’ them. Furthermair, whit’s a village bobby doing advising me? Bugger off, Sherlock, and leave me to wrap this up.’
Hamish walked stiffly from the room. If, just if, he solved this case, then he would go out of his way to expose Blair for the crass fool he was. But, said a voice in his head, that would mean promotion and leaving Lochdubh and your cosy life.
When Enrico was summoned again to the library, his sharp dark eyes ranged about the room. ‘Speaka da English?’ asked Blair with heavy irony.
‘I am looking for the tape recorder,’ said Enrico. ‘This is, I take it, the official interview. So it should be recorded.’
‘You listen tae me, you cheeky pillock,’ roared Blair. ‘I’ll conduct this interview any way I like and any more complaints from you and I’ll have you deported.’
‘You cannot,’ pointed out Enrico. ‘I am a British citizen, as is my wife.’
Blair launched into a series of bullying haranguing questions punctuated with insults about greasy Spaniards. Enrico answered when he could and what he could and then got to his feet. ‘I hivnae finished,’ roared Blair.
‘I think I had better leave you to consider your manner and behaviour,’ said Enrico. He took a tape recorder out of his pocket. ‘I have recorded this interview. Unless you conduct yourself in a polite manner, this tape will go to your superiors at Strathbane.’
Blair’s eyes bulged with fury. Jimmy Anderson stepped forward. ‘Run along,’ he said to Enrico. ‘We’ll call you when we want you again.’
‘Jeezus,’ groaned Blair.
‘Aye,’ said Jimmy, ‘can you imagine what Superintendent Daviot would say when he heard that? He’d kick ye out so hard, you’d be skidding on your bum frae here to Glasgow.’
‘Well, you know whit tae do,’ growled Blair. ‘We’re going tae search all the rooms, right? Get that tape and wipe it out!’
Hamish went up to Titchy’s bedroom. The forensic team had arrived. Men in white boiler suits were dusting for prints and cutting little bits off the pile of the carpet near the wardrobe. ‘Could the body have been killed somewhere else,’ Hamish asked one, ‘and then put in the wardrobe?’
‘Could be,’ said the man. ‘It would take more than one person or a very strong man. You see, the fact that the body remained upright, propped against the closed door, either meant that he had been killed earlier somewhere else and rigor had set in, or that the narrow confines of the wardrobe kept the body supported until Miss Gold opened the door.’
‘I don’t think there was time for rigor to set in,’ said Hamish. ‘Maybe Titchy Gold actually saw a dummy before she went to bed and someone killed the old man during the night and substituted his body for the dummy. But she’d need to be a verra heavy sleeper.’
He turned away and almost bumped into Jimmy Anderson, who was grinning all over his narrow foxy face. ‘Blair says you’re to help in the search, starting wi’ the servants’ room.’
‘Meaning he’s put his foot in it with Enrico?’
‘Aye. He bashed on like the bigot he is and the wee Spaniard taped the lot and is threatening to send
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