“I thought Charlie had time off,” complained the colonel.
Hamish ignored him. He told Charlie about his concern about Helen Mackenzie, Harrison’s nurse whom they had never once suspected. Had the colonel not been such a fan of Poirot, he would have gone off in a huff. But instead he listened intently.
“The trouble is, we’re stuck,” said Hamish. “We daren’t show our faces in Strathbane now.”
To his surprise, the colonel said, “My wife is going to spend a week with friends in Helmsdale. What if I employed a nurse from the agency? Then I might be able to get all the gossip.”
“But you’re as fit as a fiddle,” said Charlie.
“I can pretend to have had a fall.”
“That would be grand if you could do that,” said Hamish.
“Anything for Charlie,” said the colonel, eyeing him coldly.
The colonel went upstairs to phone. The agency said it would normally be difficult to find a nurse for only a week, but fortunately Nurse Betty Freeme was just between jobs and could attend immediately. She would bring the necessary papers with her.
The colonel sat back at his desk, feeling excited. He could see all the suspects gathered in the library and he would say, “You did it!”
Chapter Eleven
Many a woman has a past, but I am told she has at least a dozen, and that they all fit.
—Oscar Wilde
Betty Freeme was a sturdy woman in her late twenties with ginger hair, freckles, and pale-blue eyes. She did wonder why the colonel needed a nurse. He asked to be pushed around in a wheelchair, but any suggestion of bathing him or putting him to bed was met with horror. At last, she decided he was lonely with his wife being away. He seemed to want to talk a lot.
The colonel got her to talk about the agency and then asked if the late Gloria Dainty and Helen Mackenzie had been friends.
“Oh, them!” laughed Betty. “I’d say they hated each other. They were all right for a bit. Both were working locally and got together on their nights off. Then Gloria started dating that chap Malky, the one who murdered her, and I saw them out in front of the agency one day shouting at each other, but I couldn’t hear what they said.”
“And what did the police say when you told them this?”
“They didn’t ask me. It’s just gossip anyway. I mean, Helen is one of the strict-type nurses, everything by the book. I couldn’t ever understand her friendship with the likes of Gloria. Gloria was flighty. Goodness, it’s not yet dark, sir. I’ll just pull those curtains back.”
“Leave them!” shouted the colonel. “The light hurts my eyes. Ask one of the waiters to bring me a whisky and soda.”
Betty reached for the phone. “No,” barked the colonel. “You’ll lose the use of your legs. Get it from the bar.”
When she had gone, Charlie and Hamish emerged from behind the curtains. “Ask her if Helen has any family,” said Hamish. “We need to find a lot more about her.”
Charlie and Hamish retired behind the curtains as Betty returned with the drink.
“The reason for all these questions,” said the colonel, “is because I am a friend of Mr. Harrison and he is in a terrible state over the killing of his son. I trust this Helen will look after him?”
“She’s highly qualified, I believe,” said Betty.
“Got family in Scotland?”
“I remember she said she was an orphan, but she sometimes took time off to visit her aunt in Kinlochbervie.”
“What is the aunt’s name?”
“I forget. But the aunt was her father’s sister and hadn’t married, so she’d be a Miss Mackenzie.”
“I might take a run up there tomorrow,” said the colonel. “I really am concerned for Mr. Harrison’s welfare.”
“You could ask the agency for her details,” said Betty.
“No, no. I couldn’t do that. Run along now. I’ll ring if I need you.”
When she had gone and Hamish and Charlie had emerged from their hiding place, the colonel said excitedly, “Kinlochbervie! Now there’s a coincidence. I’ll go up there and—”
“No!” exclaimed Hamish. “If by any chance Helen should turn out to be a killer, you’ll be next. Leave it to me and Charlie.”
“Please, George,” begged Charlie. “It could be awfy dangerous. Hamish and I will go up there.”
After they had left, the colonel sat in his wheelchair, feeling frustrated. He had this rosy dream of unmasking the killer.
He had to move quickly before his wife came back to demand what he was doing in a wheelchair. Then he hit on it. There was nothing to stop him paying a visit to old Harrison. He would get Betty to drive him over. Harrison would surely be sympathetic to what he would see as a fellow sufferer. And he could have a chance to examine Helen closely. He rang the bell.
On the road to Kinlochbervie, Hamish and Charlie discussed how they should approach the aunt. “We don’t want to alert Helen,” said Hamish.