Free Death of a Dustman by MC Beaton

dog that can attack Blair and tear his trousers deserves the best food.’
    After Jimmy had left, Hamish said to Clarry, ‘Check at that new hotel if there are any workers apart from the locals. I’ve got a call to make. Come on, Lugs.
Walk.’
    With the dog trotting along beside him he walked to Mrs Docherty’s cottage. He tied the leash to the fence and then knocked at the door.
    Mrs Docherty was a tired-looking middle-aged woman with grey hair and small eyes.
    When she answered the door and saw Hamish standing there, a closed look came over her face, and she said primly, ‘What is it?’
    ‘I wanted a word with you.’
    ‘What about?’
    ‘About the murder.’
    ‘It’s got nothing to do with me.’
    ‘I chust wanted to ask you a few questions. Is your man at home?’
    ‘No, he’s working in Strathbane.’
    ‘Can I come in?’
    ‘No, I’m cleaning.’
    ‘Then we’ll talk in the garden. I want to ask you if you saw or heard anything. Fergus’s body was put in the bin soon after he was murdered.’
    ‘I didn’t see or hear anything. Why ask me?’
    Hamish remembered Clarry telling him that the Curries had seen Mrs Docherty walk across the road and stare at the loch and walk back again. It was just a small thing, and yet, Mrs Docherty, like
the rest of the locals, was so used to the magnificent scenery around her that she barely noticed. He’d had a mental picture of a worried woman going out to stare blindly at the loch. But
maybe his imagination had run away with him.
    ‘I heard that on the evening Fergus was found, you went out of your cottage and walked across and looked at the loch, and then walked back again.’
    ‘So what’s wrong with that?’
    ‘It struck me as the action of someone who was deeply worried about something.’
    ‘Havers,’ she said briskly. ‘I often go and have a look at the loch.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Why? Do I need a reason? Because it’s there.’
    She was afraid of something, of that Hamish was sure, and it couldn’t be because she was being interviewed by a policeman. No one in Lochdubh was afraid of him.
    ‘I’ll be back,’ he said. He walked out of the small garden and unhitched Lugs and walked away. Mrs Docherty stood watching his tall figure and clenched and unclenched her
hands.
    Hamish went back to the station and typed up his notes and then faxed the little he had, along with Clarry’s notes, to Strathbane.
    Clarry came in just as he finished. ‘Anything?’ asked Hamish.
    ‘Apart from the secretary, a Miss Stathos, the rest are locals. Miss Stathos says Mr Ionides plans to hire local staff as well when he’s ready to open, waiters and maids and manager
and all that.’
    Hamish leaned back in his chair. ‘Oh, my, that means he’ll go after the staff at the Tommel Castle Hotel.’
    ‘Maybe they’ll stay loyal.’
    ‘Times are hard. If he offers higher wages, then they’ll go.’
    ‘There don’t seem to be any reporters left.’
    ‘There’s a triple murder in Inverness. They’ll rely on the local man from now on. At least we should get a bit o’ peace.’
    Four more days went by, during which Jimmy Anderson, Hamish and Clarry assiduously interviewed the population of Lochdubh. Hamish went over forensic reports. The ground at the
lane beside the Currie sisters’ garden had been hard with all the dry weather and had not yielded anything. The side of the house and at the back where the bin stood was covered in
gravel.
    Frustrated, Hamish decided to examine the place closely for himself. He realized that like everyone else these days, he had been blinded by the glories of forensic science and had assumed they
had missed nothing.
    He knew the Currie sisters had gone up to Martha’s cottage with Mrs Wellington and Angela to clear out Fergus’s things.
    He carried a large magnifying glass, and, feeling ridiculous, feeling that he looked like a stage detective, he began to go over every inch of ground along with the fence and the road at the