Introducing Hamish Macbeth: Mysteries #1-3: Death of a Gossip, Death of a Cad, and Death of an Outsider Omnibus (A Hamish Macbeth Mystery) by Beaton M. C

Author:Beaton, M. C. [Beaton, M. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Mystery & Detective / Cozy, Fiction / Mystery & Detective / Traditional, Fiction / Mystery & Detective / Police Procedural
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2016-10-04T07:00:00+00:00

Hamish was back at the police station in Lochdubh. Detective Chief Superintendent Chalmers was staying at the Lochdubh Hotel. Blair, Anderson, and MacNab had been transferred to a boarding-house at the other end of the waterfront.

He was interrupted during his evening chores by two American tourists whose car battery had gone dead. Hamish jump-started it and then invited the tourists in for tea. They were a pleasant couple from Michigan. Hamish, like most Highlanders, felt more at home with Americans than he did with the English. He chatted away happily for an hour and then sent them on their way, telling them to call at the garage when it opened at nine the following morning, and promising to see them at the crofters’ fair.

He had noticed while he was entertaining them that the kitchen floor was sorely in need of a scrub. He changed out of his uniform into his old clothes, got a pail of soapy water and a scrubbing brush, and got to work, fending off Towser, who thought it was some sort of game.

He was aware of being watched, and looked up. The evening was growing dark and he had not yet switched on the electric light in the kitchen, but he recognized the slim figure lurking in the doorway.

“Come in, Priscilla,” he said. “I’ve just finished.”

“You’d better put down newspapers, Hamish, until the floor dries,” said Priscilla, “or Towser will ruin your good work.”

“There’s a pile on the chair over there,” said Hamish. “Pass them over.”

“I’ll put them down for you,” said Priscilla, switching on the light.

Hamish looked sharply at her, but she quickly bent her head, her thick hair falling forward to shield her face.

“I was just about to have my supper,” said Hamish. “I would ask you to join me, but I suppose you’ll soon be getting back to the castle for your dinner.”

“I would like to stay,” said Priscilla in an uncharacteristically small voice.

“Aye, well, you’d better go ben to the office and call your parents and tell them where you are or they’ll be worried.”

“I don’t want to tell them I’m here,” said Priscilla.

“No, well, chust tell them you are going round to the Church of Scotland to discuss the arrangements for the White Elephant stall. We’ll go along afterwards and that’ll make it all right.”

“All right. Hamish,” said Priscilla meekly. She left the kitchen and he looked curiously after her.

He thought gloomily of the two mutton pies he had bought at the bakery on his road home. Then he shouted, “I’m stepping out. Back in a minute.”

He ran into his back garden and cleared the fence with one lanky leap. He knocked on his neighbour’s door.

Mrs. Cunningham, a faded English lady who ran a bed-and-breakfast, answered the back door.

“I hae a guest for supper,” said Hamish breathlessly, “and I’ve only got mutton pies and I cannae be offering her those.”

Mrs. Cunningham folded her thin arms over her scrawny bosom.

“Constable Macbeth,” she said severely, “you promised to unstop that drain-pipe of mine.”

“Tomorrow,” said Hamish.

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