Death of a Hussy by MC Beaton Read Free Book Online

life,’ commented Hamish, pouring more tea.
    ‘Oh, things always happen to me,’ said Alison airily. ‘Adventure seems to follow me around.’
    The wind tore at the house and Hamish repressed a shudder. He was already regretting his generous impulse to give Alison driving lessons. He was uneasy about the whole thing, and it was not because he knew Alison was lying.
    ‘What’s the driving test like?’ asked Alison.
    ‘Well, it’s not so bad here as in the towns,’ said Hamish. ‘There are no roundabouts or traffic lights. But they’re very strict for all that. I don’t want to depress you, but the failure rate in the British driving test is fifty-three per cent. You have to train your mind to pass as well as concentrating on your driving ability. Stop worrying too much about the test and work instead at becoming a skilled driver. At the test, before you even get in the car; before you can even slide behind the wheel, you must be able to read a car number plate at a distance of sixty seven feet. So make sure your glasses are up to the mark. Then after your test, you will be given an oral exam on the Highway Code. Have you got a copy?’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ said Alison. She sighed. ‘I wish I were more experienced.’ She cast a sudden flirtatious look at Hamish and blushed and blew her nose on a rather grubby handkerchief to cover her confusion.
    ‘I’d better be running you back,’ said Hamish.
    ‘That’s very kind of you.’ Alison got to her feet and gazed up adoringly into Hamish’s hazel eyes, but the policeman’s eyes were a polite blank and he seemed to have retreated to somewhere inside of himself. Alison felt exactly as if she had made a bold pass and been ruthlessly snubbed.
    It’s all the fault of that Priscilla, thought Alison, she doesn’t want him for herself and yet she won’t let him go. By the time Hamish drove up to the bungalow – his police Land Rover having been returned to him by Strathbane headquarters – Alison had turned Priscilla in her mind into a scheming harpy.
    ‘Won’t you come in for a cup of coffee?’ she asked.
    ‘No, I’d best be getting home,’ replied Hamish. ‘See you tomorrow.’
    He smiled and Alison suddenly felt elated and lighthearted.
       
    ‘You asked who to teach ye to drive?’ Mrs Todd had been in the act of whipping up a bowl of batter when Alison told her on the following day about the proposed driving lessons. She stood with her mouth slightly open, the wire whisk poised over the bowl. No modern electrical methods for Mrs Todd.
    ‘I asked Hamish Macbeth and he agreed. I mean the local bobby is surely the best –’
    ‘Him!’ Mrs Todd put down bowl and spoon. ‘Let me tell you that man is a womanizer. The things I’ve heard! He’s lazy and incompetent and useless. Why, when my man died, he came around, poking his nose into everything.’
    ‘But … but … I mean, the village loves him,’ wailed Alison. ‘You saw the reception.’
    ‘Aye, and a waste o’ time and money.’ Mrs Todd was a formidable figure even in her early seventies; her hair was still brown and her back ramrod straight. Her eyes narrowed suddenly. ‘Are you sure Mrs Baird gave ye permission to take that car of hers out?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Alison in a shrill voice. ‘And now I had better get back to typing out Mrs Baird’s autobiography.’
    ‘I’d like to read that,’ said Mrs Todd, momentarily diverted. ‘She’s a fine lady and has travelled a lot.’
    ‘You can ask her for a look at it when she gets back,’ said Alison, wondering what on earth Mrs Todd would think of Maggie’s explicitly described sexual adventures.
    But Alison did not type that day; she read and reread the Highway Code, occasionally looking up at the clock to check the time and to will it to pass more quickly.
    Promptly at six o’clock, Hamish drew up in the police Land Rover. To Alison’s relief, Mrs Todd had left for the day.
    Alison had already opened the garage doors. Hamish stood