Hamish went to the translation app on his iPad, typed in a series of questions, got them translated into Lithuanian, and passed them over. They typed back that the boot had been muddy. Nothing in the car but a scarf.
What had they done with the scarf? Handed it over when the man came back for the car. What did the scarf look like?
Paisley pattern.
Hamish wondered how he could get Juris on his own. Police would still be combing the hunting box for clues. Then he remembered that Juris always answered the phone.
He rang him up and said he wanted to talk to him away from the house and suggested Juris drive to a pub called the Drop Inn in Braikie.
The pub was thin of customers. A brewery had tried to encourage more customers by turning it into a gastropub, but it seems the hard drinkers of Braikie preferred the dinginess of the Red Lion. He took a table by the window and waited. He was just beginning to think Juris would not come when he saw him parking outside.
Juris joined him and asked abruptly, “What’s up?”
“You know Helen’s body has been found?”
Juris nodded. “Do you mind if I have a beer?” he asked.
Hamish went to the bar and got him a pint. He stared straight at Juris and said, “Why did you have Helen’s car cleaned?”
He expected a hot denial but Juris said calmly, “It’s my job.”
“What!”
“Look, Mr. Harrison has a mania about clean cars. That includes Helen’s. I protested before that I wasn’t there to be a servant to a nurse and he told me to obey orders. It was my job. So I check the garages as usual and there’s her wee car covered from top to toe in mud. So I took it to the car wash. Got a receipt and put it down on my expenses.”
“When did you find the car?”
“It was the morning before we found she’d disappeared.”
“And did you report this to the police?”
“It’s like this. That man, Blair, is out to pin it on me because I’m a foreigner in his eyes. If I told him, he would have dragged me off. You know he would. That’s why I lied to you and told you I hadn’t had the car cleaned.”
“You could be accused of tampering with evidence,” said Hamish.
“I was only doing my job as usual,” said Juris stubbornly.
“Describe the car.”
“Like I said, it was top-to-bottom in mud. Helen was a bit of a slob and the inside was full of sweetie wrappers and old beer cans. I looked in the boot and it was all muddy.”
“There was a scarf. Do you have it?”
“It’s in my car.”
“I’ll need that. I’m sorry, Juris, but you’re in for a rough time. I’m afraid I’ll need to call Strathbane. That could have been the scarf that strangled her. I’ll try to get Jimmy Anderson to deal with it.”
After Hamish had called Jimmy, he was told not to let Juris out of his sight. He, Jimmy, would take Juris in for questioning.
Jimmy eventually arrived with two police cars following.
Is he really innocent? wondered Hamish. Or am I leaning backwards against Blair’s hatred of foreigners?
There seemed to be nothing else to do but go back to Lochdubh, look over his notes, and hope there might be just something he had missed.
As he drove along the waterfront, a thin drizzle was beginning to fall. He saw that Mrs. Banks was still in the graveyard. He stopped his vehicle and got out.
He walked up to her and said gently, “You’ll get soaked. Come away, lassie. There’s nothing you can do now but move on.”
She was a plump little woman in her thirties with rosy cheeks, cheeks that were now blotched with tears. She had lost her husband to cancer and then immediately afterwards, her six-year-old to meningitis.
Hamish helped her up. “You need bereavement counselling,” he said. “Go and see Dr. Brodie and he’ll fix you up. Would your husband and boy want you to live like this?”
She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and sighed. “I almost envy folk whose bairns are murdered.”
“Why?”
“Because when the murderer is caught and punished, that’s closure.”
“I think that’s a television fiction,” said Hamish sadly. “If it’s a child, there is no closure. Just courage. I’ll walk you to the doctor’s now.”
After he had delivered her to Dr. Brodie, he walked through the rain and up to a hill overlooking Lochdubh to where his first dog, Towser, was buried. He sat down on the wet heather and stared at the simple cross that marked the dog’s grave. How he had grieved over the loss of Towser! How he had sworn never to have another pet. But Archie had given him Lugs and then the vet had given him Sonsie.
Hamish sat there for a long time until he realised he was soaking wet.
He made his way back to the station and changed into civilian clothes. A seed of an idea was beginning to take place in his brain. It was far-fetched. It was outrageous. But somehow, it fit.
He phoned Charlie and said, “Call down here. I’ve an idea and I need your help.”
The colonel was sitting with his wife, Mr. Harrison, and Greta when Hamish arrived with Charlie.
“We would like a word in private with Mr. Harrison,” said Hamish. “May we use the manager’s office?”