They found a café and ordered mutton pies, peas and chips, and a pot of tea.
“You were thinking,” said Hamish, “that maybe Gloria had a boyfriend who put her up to it. She didn’t have a criminal past. We never got to interview her sister, but I read the notes. Blameless background. And how would she know a sleazeball like Willie Dunne unless someone suggested him?”
“I think you’d better call the inspector,” said Charlie, “or she may descend on the nursing agency looking for us and then go straight to Miss Whittaker’s before we get a chance to talk to the old lady. If you tell her what we’ve got, she’ll go straight to Harrison and ask why he didn’t tell her about saying Gloria was a friend of the family.”
“Maybe you’re right, but thon one frightens me to death. I just hope it wasnae herself that burnt Willie to death.”
“Don’t be daft!” shouted Charlie. “She’s an angel!”
“And a married one,” said Hamish. “Oh, well, here goes.”
Charlie listened dismally to the angry squawking coming down the phone, until Hamish interrupted, saying, “You must listen, ma’am. Charlie has had this brilliant idea.”
Hamish talked rapidly and at length, finishing by telling her where they were and that they were waiting to interview Miss Whittaker. When he had finished, there was another brief squawk down the line before Hamish rang off.
“Don’t worry, Charlie,” he said. “She would ha’ ordered us back if she didnae think we were on to something.”
Fiona arrived at quarter to four and, with Hamish leading, followed them to Miss Whittaker’s. Harriet said, “Miss Whittaker said she will be pleased to talk to you. She doesn’t get many visitors. But be careful. She tires easily. She’s ninety-three.”
She led them up an oaken staircase and into a large bedroom. Miss Whittaker was seated in a chair by the window. She had dyed red hair and her old face was heavily made up. She was dressed in a long black velvet gown. Diamond rings sparkled on her thin hands, and a huge diamond-and-emerald brooch was pinned at the throat of her gown. Her faded-blue eyes were magnified by strong glasses.
Chairs had already been set up in a half circle in front of her. She waved an imperious hand for them to sit down.
Fiona switched on a tape recorder and began. “You are Miss Whittaker of number five, Tomintoul Road, and—”
“For goodness’ sakes!” snapped the old lady. “I am not a suspect and I am not under arrest. I don’t like bossy women. Let that nice young man with the hair the same colour as my own ask any questions and switch off that stupid machine!”
Fiona gave a little shrug and nodded to Hamish. “What did you make of Gloria Dainty?” asked Hamish.
“At first, she was fine. Very correct. Good at her job. Then the cracks began to appear.”
“In what way?”
“Before I fell asleep, she would hold my hand and say things like, ‘You must feel very lonely with no one but Gloria, who feels like your daughter.’ Then once, when she thought I was asleep, I saw her taking a brooch out of my jewel box and trying it on. I shouted at her and she dropped it. She blushed and said she had only been admiring it. There have been various attempts during my long life to con money out of me. Once I heard a man’s voice downstairs. I managed to drag myself to the landing and listened.
“‘It’s no use,’ she was saying. ‘We’ll need to find someone else.’
“He said, ‘I know someone. Hang on a bittie longer.’ I rang the bell and when she came up I asked her who the man was. She said he was her brother. Two days later, she gave notice.”
“She didn’t have a brother,” said Hamish. “I think she and this man were looking for someone to prey on and found out about Mr. Harrison.”
“Macbeth,” ordered Fiona, “go and question the neighbours and see if you can get a description of this man.”
“Go yourself, Miss Hoity-Toity,” said the old lady. “I like talking to this young man.”
“Oh, very well. Come along, Carter,” said Fiona. No more Charlie, noted Hamish.
When they had left, Miss Whittaker rang the bell and told Harriet to bring tea and cakes. “Tell me all about it,” she said to Hamish.
So Hamish told her about the case from the beginning, drinking tea and eating fruit cake while Fiona and Charlie waited impatiently outside.
When he had finished, she said, “So you think that Gloria and this man hoped I would take to her and leave her money in my will?”
“I think that might have been the case,” said Hamish. “I think this man employed a seedy detective to find out some rich mark in the Highlands who needed a nurse.”
“Will you come back and see me when you know more about it?” she asked.
“I certainly will. Now I had better join my boss. Before I leave, do you keep records of your phone bills?”
“I send everything to my accountant, Mr. Gerald Wither.” She rang the bell and when Harriet came in asked her to fetch the accountant’s address.