Free Death of a Glutton by M.C. Beaton Page A

had come.
    The ripples on the loch subsided, the air grew close and still and a few stars burned feebly in the half-light of the sky.
    He picked up the rubbish bin lid and replaced it with automatic fingers. It was as if that wind had been racing towards Tommel Castle. He gave a superstitious shiver.
    ‘Daft,’ he chided himself as he went indoors, as daft as Jenny’s imaginary mad people at the castle.

Chapter Four
    Into the jaws of death,
Into the mouth of hell
    – Alfred, Lord Tennyson
    The landscape had lost its clear sharp colours when the party assembled outside the bus in the morning. They were due to go on a visit to a fish-farm, returning to the hotel for lunch and then a leisurely afternoon playing tennis or croquet in the grounds.
    Crystal arrived at the bus despite the early hour. She was wearing a brief sun-suit which left little of her stupendous figure to the imagination. ‘Auntie’s not coming,’ she volunteered. ‘She’s gone. She’s left a note to say she’s walked down to get the early-morning bus.’
    The women looked relieved. ‘Thank God,’ muttered Maria.
    Priscilla watched them all drive off, wondering uneasily whether Peta had had second thoughts about Sean’s behaviour. She was joined by the hotel manager, Mr Johnson. ‘Good riddance,’ he said.
    ‘Mrs Gore’s up and gone,’ said Priscilla.
    ‘Oh, dear. I’d better tell Sean not to bother preparing lunch for her. I don’t like that fat woman, but she’s worked wonders on Sean. He does everything without complaint. I was even beginning to think she was an asset. Why don’t you take some time off now that she’s left? Your father’s not here to pester us.’
    ‘What about lunch?’
    ‘The waitresses are all on duty. I’m here.’
    Priscilla hesitated. Then she said, ‘I might take a packed lunch and go off somewhere.’
    Helped by Sean, who was almost servile, Priscilla packed a picnic hamper with enough for two, hoisted it into the Range Rover and drove down to the police station. Hamish was sitting in his front garden in a deckchair, reading the newspapers.
    ‘I’m glad to see you’ve got the crime wave of Lochdubh subdued,’ said Priscilla. ‘If Detective Chief Inspector Blair could see you now!’
    ‘Well, thon pest’s safely in Spain. What brings you? Everything all right up at the castle?’
    ‘Very much all right. Peta’s gone. She left a note to say she was walking down to get the early-morning bus.’
    Hamish slowly put down his newspaper. ‘That’s odd,’ he said.
    ‘What’s odd? I mean, what can be so specially odd in the behaviour of a woman whose whole lifestyle is odd?’
    ‘Well, she probably had heavy luggage …’
    ‘Why? She didn’t dress very well. A few baggy cotton dresses, things like that.’
    ‘A glutton like her would have stashed away some goodies in her luggage, probably had whole hams and sides of beef in there.’
    ‘Well, if she had, she’d have eaten them by now. What are you getting at?’
    ‘For a fat woman like that with plenty of money to get up early and carry her suitcase down to the road to wait for the bus is verra strange. Also, if she was fed up, it would have been more in her nature to tell everyone off before she went. Then she would surely have said something to her niece.’
    ‘You’ve been too long without a crime,’ said Priscilla with a laugh. ‘She’s gone and that’s that. Would you like to come on a picnic with me, just somewhere up on the moors where we can get a bit of fresh air?’
    ‘Love to. I’ll just switch on the answering machine. And I’d best put my uniform in the car.’
    ‘You’re expecting trouble!’
    ‘Just in case. I would hate to run into trouble and then the police from headquarters would come rushing up to find me without my uniform on.’
    ‘It’s this weather,’ said Priscilla. ‘It would give anyone odd ideas. It’s so still and close; it feels threatening.’
     
    When she returned to the hotel with the others,