Hamish Macbeth - Death Of A Village Part 4

"So what time did he leave?"

"About eleven o'clock."

"But you didn't phone Mrs. Wellington until this evening!"

Bella hung her head. "I thought he would come back. I thought he'd never leave me. I'd given up the idea of running away."

There came a long howl from outside. Bella jumped nervously. "What's that?"

"It's my dog," said Hamish. "I'll see what's up."

Mrs. Wellington tut-tutted her disapproval. "You shouldn't take that dog with you everywhere."

Hamish went out to the Land Rover. He opened the pa.s.senger door and Lugs stumbled down to the ground. He raised his leg against the wheel.

"So that's all it was." Hamish went back inside.

"Maybe Sean's just taken himself off to cool down," he said. "Mind if I have a look around the house?"

Was there a flicker of apprehension in Bella's eyes? "Go ahead," she said.

Hamish went through to the living room. A nearly new threepiece suite in a mushroom shade dominated the small room. There was a display cabinet with various pieces of china against one wall. No open fire; just a bar heater. Obviously the room was kept for 'best': a visit from the minister, the rare party.

He went next door to the bedroom. The double bed was covered in a blood-red s.h.i.+ny quilt. What was obviously Bella's side of the bed had a bedside table with film magazines and paperback romances stacked on it. He went to the table at Sean's side. On top was an alarm clock and nothing else. He jerked open the top drawer. A Gideon Bible and several packets of condoms. Hadn't Sean wanted children? He went out and through to the back of the small house and pushed open a door. This was Sean's office. There was an oldfas.h.i.+oned roll-top desk with neatly stacked papers beside a computer. He sifted through them. Farm accounts, sheep-dip papers, electricity and phone bills, nothing that could give him a clue to Sean's disappearance. He opened the drawers and carefully went through the contents until in the bottom drawer he found two pa.s.sports, one belonging to Sean and the other to Bella. He opened Bella's. It was still in her maiden name-Bella Wilson.

He went through everything again but without finding a single clue to explain why Sean had left.

The man hadn't been gone long, he thought. It was surely a waste of police time, panicking so early over his disappearance.

He was driving back along the waterfront when he saw Elspeth Grant. He screeched to a halt. "Want to come to the station for a cup of tea?"

"Why?"

"I've been a bit rude to you. But I've had other things on my mind."

Elspeth swung round in the direction of the police station. "Meet you there," she said over her shoulder.

Hamish drove on. She was walking quickly, and by the time he had parked the Land Rover, she was waiting at the kitchen door.

He unlocked the door and ushered her into the kitchen.

"Any crime for me?" asked Elspeth as Hamish plugged in the kettle, a recent purchase. The summer had been so warm that there had been little need to light the stove every day.

Hamish told her about the insurance fraud. When he had finished, she asked, "Do you know when that will come up in court?"

"I'll find out for you. I've just been up to see Bella Comyn."

"Lochdubh's dizzy blonde. What's up with her?"

"Her husband's cleared off. Mind you, he only left this morning. He'll probably be back. She claims he bullied and threatened her."

"I saw them at the Highland Games last year. He seemed besotted with her."

"I'm sure he's all that. Maybe that's why he keeps such a strong grip on her. Here's your tea. Help yourself to milk and sugar."

"Why is Lugs pawing at my skirt?"

"He likes tea a lot," said Hamish. "It's unnatural in a dog. I give him some on his birthday and at Christmas."

Elspeth hooted with laughter. "You treat that dog like a bairn, but then the childless always do."

Hamish flushed with anger. "I'm getting a bit weary of your personal remarks, Elspeth."

"Sorry. I think you ought to take another look at Stoyre."

"Why? Because you sense they're frightened? I need facts."

"Well, there's a Mr. and Mrs. Bain from Stoyre. They've moved into a cottage up the back."

"So?"

"They seem scared and won't talk about Stoyre." Elspeth brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "Tell you what: let's go together to a church service on Sunday. Suss out the place."

"I may be busy," said Hamish loftily.

"You're just cross because I teased you about your dog. Come on, Hamish. Might be a laugh."

"All right," he said reluctantly. "The service is usually at eleven in the morning. I'll pick you up at ten."

"Right you are, copper. I'd best be going."

She turned in the doorway and looked at him thoughtfully. Then she said, "If it were me, I wouldn't believe a word Bella says."

"And what makes you say that?"

She grinned. "Just a feeling."

Hamish went through to the police office after she had left and switched on his computer.

After typing in a pa.s.sword, he typed in the name Bella Wilson. He stared at the screen. Bella Wilson of Donnel Street, Inverness, had been charged, aged thirteen, at the juvenile court, with bullying one Aileen Hendry by repeatedly punching and kicking her. At age eighteen, she had been charged with hitting one Henry Cathcart on the head with a poker. Hamish leaned back in his chair and scowled horribly. Sean was gone and Bella was in charge of the joint account. Where was Sean?

THREE.

Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me lie laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid.

-William Shakespeare The next day, Hamish went up to talk to Bella. He heard her singing in the kitchen as he approached the front door. He knocked, and while he waited for her to answer, he turned and looked around. There was no garden, just sheep-cropped turf and old rusting machinery. But over by the wall was a freshly dug patch of earth.

Bella opened the door. Her hair was newly blonded and she looked fresh and pretty. "Have you found him?" she asked.

"Not yet. Can I come in?"

"All right." She stood back reluctantly.

Hamish walked into the kitchen and took off his cap. "Sit down, Bella," he said.

"What's this all about?"

"It iss about your police record," said Hamish, his accent becoming more sibilant with worry.

"That was a long time ago," she said defiantly. "And on both occasions I was provoked."

Hamish took a deep breath. "Have you been battering your husband?"

"What!" she shrieked. "A wee thing like me wi' a big man like that!"

"It does happen."

"No, I told you the truth. He's the bully."

"There's a freshly dug patch in the ground outside. Who dug it?"

"Me. I was going to put in some flowers."

"So you won't mind if I take a spade and have a look."

Bella's face hardened. "You'll need a search warrant."

"Oh, I'll get one. But in order to get one, I'll need to report your criminal record, and it won't just be me but the top bra.s.s from Strathbane who'll question you, and a forensic team will be going over your house."

"Oh, dig it up, then," she snarled. "The spade's by the kitchen door."

Hamish went to the door and seized the spade. He went out into the bright sunlight. He began to dig in the freshly turned earth. Only about two feet below the surface, he uncovered a dead collie. He picked out the body and laid it on the turf. It had died recently-been killed, for its head had been smashed in. He sat back on his heels, feeling sick.

He turned his head. Bella was standing by the kitchen door. "You did this," he said flatly.

"Sean did it," she said. "I didn't want you to know."

Hamish rose and went to the Land Rover, called Strathbane, and spoke rapidly. Then he returned and stood guard over the dead dog. "You interfering b.a.s.t.a.r.d," hissed Bella, her face now ugly with rage. "I tell you, he walked out and said he wasn't coming back."

"You will be asked by police from Strathbane, who will be here soon, to go with them to police headquarters for questioning."

"I thought you were the policeman here," she jeered.

"Not when it iss a question o' murder," said Hamish quietly.

After Bella had been taken away, he returned to the police station to type out his report. Then once he had finished, he leant back in his chair. What if Sean had really run off because he was frightened of her? He would need money. Hamish put on his cap and went out and walked along to the bank and asked to see the manager, Mr. MacCallum.

"It's about Sean Comyn," said Hamish. "He's gone missing, feared dead. But has he drawn out any money recently?"

"I should not be discussing a customer's account. That's confidential."

"A possible murder does not keep anything confidential."

"I suppose if I don't help you, you'll get a warrant." The bank manager switched on the computer on his desk. Hamish waited patiently while he typed through various codes. "Ah, here we are," said Mr. MacCallum. "Sean Comyn made out a cheque to Queen and Barrie, estate agents in Strathbane."

"When?"

"Yesterday."

"Anything else?"

"Two hundred pounds out of a cash machine in Strathbane the same day."

"Well, it looks as if the man is still alive, thank G.o.d."

Hamish went back to the police station and dialled the estate agents. He explained the police were trying to contact a Sean Comyn.

"We rented him a cottage. He wanted somewhere cheap. We got him a place in Stoyre."

"Address?"

"Number six, the waterfront."

"Thanks." Stoyre again, thought Hamish as he drove off, leaving behind a sulky Lugs.

When he descended into the huddle of houses which made up the tiny village of Stoyre, he was relieved to see people moving about and men working at the nets. Elspeth and her fears! He parked outside the pub and walked along the waterfront to number 6. It had been a fisherman's cottage and had a run-down appearance, unlike its neighbours. He knocked on the door.

To his relief, Sean Comyn himself answered it. He was unshaven and red-eyed.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Bella?"

"A word with you. Let me in."

Sean led him into a front room. It was dark and spa.r.s.ely furnished with a few shabby chairs and a sofa. "Before we start," said Hamish, taking out his mobile phone, "I'll phone police headquarters and say you've been found."

Sean tried to say something but Hamish held up a hand for silence. "In a minute," he said. He reported to Jimmy Anderson that Sean had been found. "If she's been beating him," said Jimmy, "will he press charges?"

"I'll see what I can do."

Hamish rang off and turned to Sean. "Before I begin, I want you to take this phone and call your bank manager and freeze your account or, if I'm not mistaken, she'll clean you out."

Sean took the phone from him. He did not ask questions or protest, simply phoned the bank and did what Hamish had suggested. Then he handed the phone back and sat with his hands between his legs, slumped forward.