They ordered coffee and sat looking at the glassy waves curling on the beach. “What about this,” said Hamish. “Maybe Malky was romancing the two of them to get drugs. But he drops Helen for Gloria because he’s thought up this scheme with Gloria of trying to get old Harrison to leave her money in his will, or even to marry her. Helen set that cat on fire. Psychos often start off with killing animals. She gets Gloria out of the way. Then she hears about the witness in Kinlochbervie and gives her a present of wine laced with antifreeze.
“Now, we know Harrison is an old scunner. He treats everyone like dirt. But he’s led Helen to believe that she’ll get something in his will. Then she finds out it all goes to Andrew. So out goes Andrew. Harrison will be a shattered man and might begin to cling to her. But surely she must come under suspicion. Now that your friend George has done his bit, I hope he keeps out of it.”
“Oh, he’ll be all right. What can we do now?” asked Charlie.
“We wait until the dust settles and keep an eye on the lodge until, say, next Sunday when Helen gets her day off, and see where she goes and try to have a word with her.”
“Got a name for the poodle yet?”
“Cannae think o’ anything,” said Hamish.
“What about Bella? Pretty wee thing.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Betty Freeme heaved a sigh of relief as she turned into the drive leading to the hunting lodge. The colonel had criticised her driving every few yards. She pulled up in front of the house, glad the journey was over.
Juris answered the door and to the colonel’s request said that Mr. Harrison was not seeing anyone. The colonel handed over his card. “He’ll see me,” he said. “Hop to it.”
They waited in the hall. Betty wished they could leave. The hall was as dark as usual with only glimmers of light shining on the glass eyes of the stuffed animals. The wind moaned around the building like a banshee.
Juris came back. “He can give you a few moments,” he said.
Betty seized the handles of the wheelchair and pushed the colonel towards the drawing room.
Mr. Harrison was seated by the French windows, staring out. Helen was standing on guard behind him.
“Colonel Halburton-Smythe,” announced Juris.
Harrison slowly turned round. “What’s up with you?”
“Strained my back,” said the colonel. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Well, well,” said Mr. Harrison, his old eyes bleak. “He wasn’t much of a son but he was all I had and now he’s gone. I wish I’d never come to this cursed place. As soon as the coppers are finished, I’m selling up and going back to Yorkshire. I should never have left.”
“Will you be taking your staff back with you?” asked the colonel.
“Probably not. I’ll always wonder if it was one of them who killed my poor son. Helen, make yourself useful and get me a whisky and soda.”
The colonel studied Helen, but her face was like mask.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” asked the colonel. “Perhaps you might like to stay at the hotel as my guest? Change of scene and all that.”
“I’ll think about it,” said Mr. Harrison fretfully. Helen handed him a whisky and soda and he took a great gulp. “That’s better. I’ll never know what came over Andrew.”
“What did he do?”
“He was trying to get power of attorney. Said I was past it. I told him I’d see him in hell first. Mind you, I blame Greta. Always plotting and scheming to get my money.”
Juris came in. “The police are back again, sir.”
“Oh, God, will this never end? Sorry, Colonel, but I might take you up on that offer.”
“Anytime,” said the colonel. “You are lucky to have such an efficient nurse.”
“Oh, Helen’s all right. Only one around here I trust.”
To Betty’s surprise, when they arrived back at the hotel, the colonel told her he did not need her services any longer. He assured her she would be paid for the whole week.
When Charlie and Hamish joined him later, the colonel was bursting with ideas. Hamish was, however, alarmed. “You’re putting yourself in danger,” he said. “If Harrison accepts your invitation, then Helen will come to the hotel with him. Then there is Harrison himself. He can walk. Andrew trying to get power of attorney might have turned his brain and the wretched Helen might be his accomplice. Let’s hope he doesn’t turn up.”
The following Sunday was one of those grey days in the Highlands when all colour seemed to have been bleached out of the landscape. All was silent except for the occasional mournful call of a curlew. Hamish and Charlie in plainclothes, and with Charlie at the wheel of his old car, lay off the road near the hunting box and waited. At last, they saw a small Ford with Helen at the wheel driving past. She did not notice them. They gave her plenty of time to get ahead and then set off in pursuit. She drove steadily on and took the road to Strathbane. Fortunately, there were one or two cars on the road and Charlie hung well back.
“I wonder if she’s going to the agency,” said Hamish.
“Why?”
“She might want to get in touch with Betty and find out all about the colonel.”
“Let’s hope not,” said Charlie.