They walked out to Charlie’s old Volvo, one of the long ones that looks like a hearse but is big enough to accommodate his height. They both climbed in. Charlie switched on his laptop and began to scroll through the notes. “Here we are,” he said. “Bunty and Jeremy Thripp. Who is going to phone?”
“I’ll have a try,” said Hamish, “because if Andrew gets to hear we’ve been checking up on him, someone’s going to get it in the neck and it may as well be me.”
Hamish took out his phone, squinted at the computer screen, and dialled a number. A woman answered. “Is that Mrs. Thripp?” asked Hamish.
“Yes, but I’m not buying anything.”
“This is Police Sergeant Hamish Macbeth from Lochdubh in Sutherland. You and your husband claim that Andrew Harrison and his wife were with you on the weekend a nurse who had been looking after his father was murdered.”
“Yes, that’s right,” she said. “Why are you asking again?”
“Someone has come forward,” lied Hamish, “with a suggestion that you may be guilty of perverting the course of justice by giving them an alibi. If this is true, you do realise you will be charged and maybe go to prison?”
“My lawyer will be in touch with you,” she shouted, and banged down the phone.
“No good?” asked Charlie.
“Says she’ll get her lawyer.”
“Are they tapping the calls at the hunting box?”
Hamish shook his head. “The inspector said she couldn’t get permission. But look at it this way: Why did she say she would get her lawyer? Why not honest outrage at the very suggestion? We’ll wait and see. If nothing at all happens, I’ll need to pluck up my courage and tell your inspector what I’ve done. Inaction would suggest guilt. And if it had been an innocent person getting that call, they would have surely asked for my phone number and called me back to make sure it was me. Finding it was someone on a mobile, she’d have hung up and called Andrew, who would then call Daviot.”
“What do we do now?” asked Charlie.
“Forget about the whole thing until the axe falls, if it’s going to fall. I know. Let’s go and see Dick Fraser at the bakery. No point in hanging around here. It’s half day in Braikie, so the shop’ll be closed.”
Dick and Anka welcomed them. Charlie’s clumsiness returned. He dropped his coffee cup on the floor and, bending over to retrieve it, fell on the carpet. As they all helped him up and Anka gave him a fresh cup of coffee, Charlie thought sadly that while he had been with the colonel or Fiona, he hadn’t broken anything at all.
Anka had been working on Internet orders and excused herself to go through to the office, leaving Hamish and Charlie with Dick.
Dick eagerly asked how the case was going. He listened carefully while Hamish talked. When Hamish had finished, Dick said, “I don’t think it can have anything to do with the son.”
“Why?” asked Hamish.
“Look at it this way. If Willie had the goods on someone, it must be someone in Sutherland. He’d hardly know anything about a London lawyer. This Juris: Did Gloria make a pass at him?”
“Yes, according to his wife, who threatened to kill her.”
“Or,” said Dick, folding his hands over his stomach, “it could be someone out of Gloria’s past in Strathbane. You think Willie might have been a blackmailer? Gloria liked money. Maybe she supplied him with the goods on somebody. Maybe no one’s dug into her background properly.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Hamish. “I just assumed that our inspector would have found out everything there was to know. Let’s see. Gloria worked in Strathbane Hospital before going into private nursing. I’d like to get down to that agency and see who she was taking care of before she got the job with old Harrison.”
“We’d better tell the inspector,” said Charlie cautiously. “I mean, we’re supposed to be in Kinlochbervie.”
“I’ll try anyway.” Hamish phoned Strathbane, but was told that Fiona and Jimmy were back at the hunting lodge. He phoned Fiona’s mobile and it went straight to the answering service. So he left a long message about where they were about to go and what they were about to do. He then switched off his own phone and told Charlie to do the same.
Charlie left his car at the police station and joined Hamish in the Land Rover. The sun was crawling reluctantly over the horizon as they drove into Strathbane. The agency, Private Nursing, was in a former villa near the hospital.
Before he rang the bell, Hamish said, “I’d like to interview the nurse that Gloria replaced. She may have known her.”
He pushed the round white bell set in brass by the door. It was opened by a thin woman with a haggard face. Hamish explained who they were and what they wanted.
“I am the secretary here, Alexandra Chisholm,” she said. “Come into the office.”