Dark Loch: The Highland Waters Hold A Grim Secret In This Scottish Dark Psychological Thriller by Keddie Hughes

Author:Keddie Hughes [Hughes, Keddie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-three

The lilac twin set and matching kilt feel scratchy. Looking in the mirror, I am reminded of the doughty ladies advertising on the back pages of Scottish Field. The only thing missing is a couple of cocker spaniels and a shooting stick. I hitch up the kilt a couple of turns. My legs are slim and it’s a marginal improvement. I remind myself that my preferred funereal attire wouldn’t be appropriate for a Highlands ceilidh and the shop assistant was fulsome in her admiration of the heather-hued outfit. I’m aware such praise cannot be relied upon, but I cling to her admiring remarks. Tonight, I must look the part.

A dull ache is pressing on the back of my eyes. Drinking a bottle of whisky without after-effects is a tall order even for someone of my constitution, but then I remember what happened last night and my mood is revived. Even when Pavel called to say he was hungover and wanted to postpone our meeting to the afternoon, that only heightened my sense of anticipation. When he hears my recording, all doubts about Hamish’s involvement in Bruno’s murder will disappear.

Pavel answers the door after my fifth knock, rubbing his eyes and squinting at me.

‘Well, look at you,’ he remarks. I cannot ascertain whether he is making fun of me or is impressed by my outfit.

‘I went shopping in Inverness this morning.’

He looks down at his own dishevelled state. ‘I need to have a shower.’

‘I’ll wait,’ I say, sitting on the edge of his bed. The sheets are in a tangle; there is a smell of body odour and a sweet, earthy scent that I cannot place. I cross my legs, my foot is dangling and I tap it in time to a Scottish reel playing in my head. He appears from the shower, head down, vigorously rubbing his crew cut with a towel in his hands. He is wearing a pair of undershorts that gap slightly at the fly and the top button is undone. I allow my gaze to drift downwards, remembering Bruno’s genitals in the hospital bed. I check myself, dismissing any thought of desire. He is buttoning up what looks like the same shirt he wore last.

‘Right, boss,’ he says, retrieving the pink notebook from his trouser pocket. The glitter has worn off and the edges are tatty, but I’m pleased he seems to have recovered his interest in the case.

‘I spoke to most of the staff at the pub last night,’ he begins. ‘Hamish isn’t around much. There’s talk of him being on the run from Interpol for money laundering and a suspicious death of a colleague.’

‘Did you find any concrete evidence for that?’

‘Nah. They’re probably on the same website you’re on.’

‘What about Monika?’

‘No one knew her, either. Most of them have only worked at the hotel for the past year.’

It’s time I pulled my ace from my pack.

‘I went back to The Chalet last night and overheard Hamish on the phone and recorded it.’

I hold out the phone and press ‘Play’.

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