Death of a Hussy by MC Beaton Read Free Book Online Page B

together.
    Then they shook hands and Ian came back with a false sort of smile on his monkey face. ‘Aye, weel, Miss Kerr, it seems it won’t cost that much. Hamish’ll pick up yer car the morrow.’
    Later that night, Hamish got out his fishing tackle and set off in the driving rain to poach a salmon, praying that the water bailiffs wouldn’t catch him. The salmon was in part payment for the car repairs. He did not get home until three in the morning. He put an eighteen-pound salmon on the kitchen table and went thankfully to bed after giving Towser a good rub down, for the dog had accompanied him on his poaching expedition.
    Damn Alison Kerr, was his last waking thought, that lassie fair gives me the creeps.
       
    Colonel Halburton-Smythe rustled his morning paper and looked over it at his daughter’s calm face. She was reading letters that had arrived for her in that morning’s post.
    ‘Looks as if we’re about to have a marriage in Lochdubh,’ said the colonel.
    ‘Mmm?’ said Priscilla absently.
    ‘Yes, that friend of yours, that Hamish Macbeth, has been courting Mrs Baird’s niece, or we all hope that’s what he’s been doing. He’s been up at the bungalow every night.’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ said Priscilla absently. ‘Nice for him,’ and she continued to read her letters.
    The colonel gave her bent head a pleased smile. He had been wrong. His daughter quite obviously had no romantic interest in that lazy village copper.
    What on earth is Hamish playing at? thought Priscilla furiously, he can surely do better than get tied up with that little drip. He’s probably sorry for her. Typical Hamish! He’ll probably end up tied down for life to some dowdy female just because he’s sorry for her. She picked up her letters and walked slowly from the room. She had called at the police station several evenings in a row but Hamish had always been out.
    She looked at the clock. Ten in the morning. She was due to leave for London at the weekend. She’d better find out what Hamish was thinking about, fooling around with Alison Kerr.
    She drove down to the police station, but although the Land Rover was parked outside, there was no sign of Hamish. She peered in the living room window. Towser was stretched out on the sofa, his eyes closed.
    Now, if I were Hamish, thought Priscilla, where would I be at this time in the morning without dog or car? She stood for a moment. Small flakes of snow were beginning to fall. Her face cleared. He was probably at the Lochdubh Hotel, mooching coffee.
    And that is exactly where she did run Hamish to earth. He was sitting in the man-ager’s office, a mug of steaming coffee in his hands.
    He rose in pleased surprise as Priscilla walked in. ‘I thought you would be back in London,’ said Hamish.
    ‘Not till the weekend,’ said Priscilla. ‘Morning, Mr Johnson. I just wanted a quick word with Hamish.’
    ‘I’ve got to get back to work,’ said the hotel manager. ‘Be my guest, Miss Halburton-Smythe. Help yourself to coffee.’
    ‘No, not here,’ said Priscilla.
    ‘Is it police business?’ asked Hamish anxiously.
    ‘Something like that.’
    They walked together to the police station, Priscilla refusing to discuss what was bothering her until they were both indoors.
    ‘It’s like this,’ she said, not looking at him. ‘I’ve been hearing tales that you are courting Alison Kerr.’
    He studied her averted face and a flash of malice appeared in his eyes. ‘I had tae get interested in someone sometime,’ he said softly.
    ‘Just so long as you’re really interested in her and not just sorry for her,’ said Priscilla.
    ‘Well, that iss verra kind of you, Miss Halburton-Smythe. I am glad I haff your blessing. Alison is all for a white wedding and I suppose I’ll just haff to go along with it.’
    Priscilla sat down at the table. Towser put his heavy head on her lap and she absentmindedly stroked his ears.
    Her face was quite expressionless. Hamish looked at her