Death of a Green-Eyed Monster by M. C. Beaton

Author:M. C. Beaton
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2022-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

O ’tis a lovely thing for youth

To early walk in wisdom’s way;

To fear a lie, to speak the truth,

That we may trust to all they say!

Isaac Watts, “Against Lying”

“The devastation here has transformed what was the scene of a gruesome murder into what now looks more like a battlefield. The cottage has been extensively damaged. The roof has collapsed, and from where we are standing—as close as the emergency services will allow—it looks like the inside has been gutted. Fire crews fought for hours to bring the blaze at the cottage under control, working in incredibly dangerous conditions to prevent the flames spreading to the filling station, where thousands of gallons of fuel are stored in underground tanks.

“The owner of the cottage and the filling station, thirty-four-year-old Douglas Tennant, remains in critical condition in Braikie hospital’s intensive care unit, under police guard. The police do not appear to have any suspects for the murder at the filling station or the attempted murder of Mr. Tennant. A spokesperson said that their enquiries are at an early stage.”

Hamish stepped out of the Land Rover just as Elspeth was finishing her report. She told her camera crew to take a break and walked over to greet Hamish and Dorothy.

“Care to make a statement, Sergeant Macbeth?” She smiled.

“This is no laughing matter, Elspeth.” Hamish frowned. “Dougie’s in a bad way.”

“I know, and I’m sorry about your friend,” she said. “This is a terrible business.”

“It is that,” Dorothy agreed. “The cottage is a real mess.”

“You’ve been here before,” Elspeth said to Dorothy.

“Yes, with Hamish. When we found the body in the car.”

“That must be it.” Elspeth appeared slightly distracted. “You have a strong connection to this place.”

“Is that what your second sight is telling you?” Dorothy shrugged. “That’s no great revelation, is it? Seems to me that anyone who has found a murder victim shot in the head will have a strong connection to a place.”

“Andy’s down there,” Hamish said, having spotted another man examining the wrecked cottage, watched by the police constable guarding the crime scene. “I want to take a closer look at the cottage with him.”

“How are the wedding plans working out?” Elspeth asked Dorothy as they watched Hamish walking towards the scorched ruin.

“Everything is working out just fine,” Dorothy answered.

“Must be difficult with all of this going on.”

“We’re coping.”

“That’s good to hear. No fear of cold feet, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that, this period just before the wedding is a stressful time for any couple. People get upset, even start talking about calling the whole thing off.”

“Well, I am not calling off my wedding.” Dorothy turned to Elspeth, her jaw set tight and her eyes sharp with anger. “And no one can make me—certainly not a high-and-mighty TV glamour puss like you, nor a snooty little rich girl like your friend Priscilla. Unlike either of you, with your failed engagements, my wedding is going ahead—and no one’s going to stop it!”

“Hey, cool down, Dorothy. I don’t want to stop the wedding.

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