Free Death of a Valentine by MC Beaton

had closed behind her and then repeated his question.
    ‘She was all right,’ said Bill.
    ‘Did you have an affair with her?’
    ‘What a question tae ask!’ spluttered Bill. ‘And me a happily married man.’
    ‘Come off it. You were seen spending an afternoon at her house by the neighbours.’
    ‘I went to discuss the business wi’ her. She’s my secretary.’
    ‘Maybe you’ll just be calling your wife to confirm that.’
    Bill crumpled. ‘Don’t do that. Look, it wasnae me that seduced her. It was the other way around. I couldnae believe my luck, and that’s a fact. It was just the one afternoon,
that’s all. Then she went on as if nothing had happened.’
    ‘When was this?’
    ‘About a month ago. Please don’t tell the wife.’
    ‘That I cannae promise. Do you have any training at all in chemistry?’
    ‘Not a bit. Lousy at school all round.’
    ‘You’ll need to stand by for more questioning. Don’t go to bed.’
    Hamish went out to the Land Rover and called Jimmy. ‘What is it now?’ groaned Jimmy.
    ‘You’d best get out to the wildlife park and pull Bill Freemont in for questioning. He spent at least the one afternoon in bed wi’ Annie Fleming.’
    ‘I’ll get out there. What if he denies the whole thing?’
    ‘I’ve got it on tape,’ said Hamish.
    ‘Have you really? Or is that just one of your convenient lies?’
    ‘No, I’ve got it all right. I’m off. I don’t want to be caught poaching on Strathbane’s territory. I’ll wait for you at the top of the road.’
    Hamish waited patiently for what seemed like a long time before Jimmy turned up with Andy MacNab and two policemen following in another car.
    ‘Right, Hamish, where’s the tape?’ said Jimmy. Hamish took a small, powerful tape recorder out of his pocket and handed it to Jimmy.
    ‘Odd that,’ said Jimmy. ‘I never think of you as being high-tech. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d written your notes up in the snow. Come on, lads.
I’ll keep you posted, Hamish.’
    The more she landed in disgrace with Hamish, the more Josie’s obsession with him grew, and her obsession with alcohol grew along with it. As Hamish was making his way
back to Lochdubh, Josie sat in her room at the manse in front of the peat fire and dreamt of becoming his wife. In her mind, she remodelled the police station. There would need to be room for a
nursery for the three children she planned to have.
    It was only when she awoke in the morning with a hangover that she conjured up one sensible idea. If she worked hard investigating and maybe solved this case, Hamish would admire her. He would
want her company instead of looking at her flat-eyed.
    Hamish was relieved and surprised when Josie reported to the police station and suggested that she should do some investigative work in Braikie and go round the town and try to ferret out more
of Annie’s friends. Hamish filled her in with what he had found out about Bill Freemont.
    Josie looked so neat and efficient in her newly sponged and pressed uniform that he offered her a coffee. Josie sat down happily at the kitchen table and looked around. It was a very small
kitchen but could be extended. That old-fashioned stove would have to go. And the other thing that would have to go, she thought, eyeing the dog and cat who were slumbering together in front of the
stove, was those wretched animals of his. She would get pregnant quickly and tell Hamish that his pets would cause allergies.
    Hamish handed her a mug of coffee. ‘It’s odd, isn’t it?’ he said in his lilting highland voice. ‘At first it seemed as if this murder was the work of some maniac.
Now it turns out Annie was what Scotland Yard would call a murderee, someone who works people up so much that she’s bound to get bumped off sooner or later.’
    ‘Or maybe it has something to do with drugs,’ said Josie. ‘I mean, Stardust, the disco owned by Barry Fitzcameron. He owns a couple of pubs as well. He plays the