“And didn’t you think it might be evidence?”
“I just thought some tourist had chucked them. Honest. I put them in the shed. I thought I’d wait to hear if anyone was asking for them. But my boy wanted to go out guising and I thought it wouldnae dae any harm just to let Sean and his pals have three frocks.”
At long last, the contingent from Strathbane arrived, headed by Fiona. “We’ll go and look for where the suitcases were found,” she said, “and leave the forensic team to do their work. But first, we’ll need to take your fingerprints, Mrs. Eskdale.”
“Ochone, ochone!” she wailed. “It wasnae me who murdered the lassie.”
“It is just to eliminate you from our enquiries,” said Charlie.
After her fingerprints had been taken, she was told that once they had visited the place where the suitcases had been found, she would be taken to the police station in Lochdubh to make a statement.
As they all left, Fiona taking Mrs. Eskdale in her car, Hamish watched the forensic team suiting up. “Where’s Christine Dalray?” wondered Hamish, remembering the attractive forensic scientist who had been keen on him, and wondering why he had never encouraged her.
“I heard she had gone to Glasgow,” said Charlie.
Children in all sorts of costumes and carrying turnip lanterns could be seen in the streets.
“I forgot to ask her what she was doing up on the moors,” said Hamish. “She doesnae have a dog.”
Following Fiona’s Land Rover, they soon left the road and bumped across the moors to where great boulders left since the ice age loomed up in their headlights. Fiona stopped beside two of the largest boulders and Hamish pulled in behind her. They shone powerful torches into a space between the rocks.
“Found them right there,” said Mrs. Eskdale.
“Nothing here that I can see,” said Fiona. “You’d better get back here at daylight, Macbeth. I’ll get the forensic boys up here when they’re finished with the house.”
“What were you doing, walking up here, Mrs. Eskdale?” asked Hamish.
“Cannae a body go for a walk?” she screeched.
Hamish bent down suddenly and picked up something and held it aloft. “This is a roach. Do you come up here to smoke pot?”
“That’s no’ mine!”
“Mrs. Eskdale,” said Hamish patiently, “if you say it isn’t yours and we have to take it back to get it checked for DNA and find it is yours, you’ll be in bad trouble.”
She began to wail that she had bad arthritis and there was no harm in a bit of weed.
After more diligent questioning, she revealed she had got it from a neighbour, Hetty Jamieson, who grew a wee bit.
Fiona phoned and ordered a raid on Hetty Jamieson’s house before ordering Hamish and Charlie to take Mrs. Eskdale off to Lochdubh to type out a statement.
By the time they had taken the long road back to Lochdubh and got the statement and had run Mrs. Eskdale back to her home, Hamish and Charlie were weary.
They found that Hetty Jamieson had a whole cannabis field covered over in glass and heated in her back garden. She had broken down and said it was some nice Chinese gentlemen who were paying her to look after the crop. They were due the following week to check on it. But as the local press were on the scene, Hamish doubted any Chinese would turn up.
Hamish missed Dick Fraser. Dick would have produced a tent and sleeping bags so that they would be fresh and ready to search the next day. But it was back to the station again for Hamish after dropping Charlie at the hotel.
Hamish was just gulping down a cup of coffee the following morning when Detective Chief Inspector Blair marched into the kitchen.
“You’ve got to help me,” he said. “Thon bloody woman’s trying to get me fired.”
“Why should I help you?” demanded Hamish. “All you’ve ever done is to try to get me out of this police station.”
Blair gave an oily smile. “Ah, weel. Let’s make bygones be bygones. You help me and I’ll make sure you keep this poxy station to the end o’ time. I want you to say she’s been sexually harassing you.”
“I’ve a better idea, sir,” said Hamish. “I’ll put in a report that you’ve been sexually harassing me.”
“You cheeky teuchter! As if anyone would believe you.”
“Worth a try. Got to get off. Police work.”
“Watch your back from now on, laddie. You’ve made a bad enemy.”
“You always were a bad enemy,” said Hamish.
Sonsie let out a hiss and crept towards Blair, her fur raised, while Lugs began to growl.
Blair let out a yelp of alarm and rushed out of the door.
Hamish and Charlie arrived back at the giant boulders where the cases had been found. “This heather’s God’s gift to criminals,” grumbled Hamish. “A truck could run across the stuff and not leave a trace. I don’t know what we’re doing here. Forensics will make sure there’s nothing left to be found.”