Free Death of a Valentine by MC Beaton Page A

part of the
good citizen, gives a lot to charity, that sort of thing. But when I was waiting for you at headquarters, I heard one of the policemen complaining about that raid on the disco. He said they
couldn’t even find an under-aged drinker, let alone any drugs, and he thought Barry had been tipped off. Because one thing I did notice in that disco was that some of the drinkers were
definitely under-aged.’
    Hamish looked at her thoughtfully. He wondered why Blair hadn’t jumped at the idea of being there at the raid. ‘Which pubs does he own?’ he asked.
    ‘The Clarty Duck and The Stag.’
    ‘Interesting.’
    The phone in the office rang. ‘I wonder if I should answer that,’ said Hamish. ‘It’s after nine and we should be at work. Better leave it.’ He cocked an ear as his
answering machine picked up a message. ‘Hamish, this is Jimmy. Jake Cullen made bail. He was shot dead on the steps of the sheriff’s court.’ Hamish rushed into the office and
snatched up the phone. ‘You still there? It’s me, Hamish.’
    ‘Did you get that?’ asked Jimmy.
    ‘Yes, any witnesses?’
    ‘Only the one. Some poor auld granny has a flat opposite the court. A masked gunman came in the night before and told her to shut up or he’d kill her. He tied her to the bed. Then
she said he just sat there, smoking and waiting. She thought he was going to kill her. Then she fell asleep. She said she was exhausted with fear. She awoke to the sound of the shot. Then he just
ran out. It seems he set up at the window with a rifle – maybe a deer rifle – and shot Jake. It smells of a professional hit. And that screams at me that our oh-so-clean and worthy
citizen Barry Fitzcameron might be behind it. We’re going to be tied up here for a good bit. You and McSween get over to Braikie and see what you can dig up.’
    ‘On our way,’ said Hamish. He went back into the kitchen. Josie wasn’t there. He walked into his living room. Josie wheeled around and blushed.
    ‘If you want to examine my home again,’ said Hamish severely, ‘ask! Now let’s get going. You find out what you can about her friends. Start off with the school. Maybe her
messing about started there. I’ll check back with the neighbours.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ whispered Josie. ‘It’s just I’ve never properly seen all round a highland police station before.’
    And never will again, thought Hamish. He ushered her out and then went out to his Land Rover followed by his dog and cat.
    Josie drove miserably in the direction of Braikie. Before Hamish had caught her, she had opened the door of the spare room which led off the living room and had blinked in amazement at the
amount of rusty junk. And he had just been beginning to thaw towards her. She was determined to work hard all day and not give up until she came up with just one clue.
    Hamish followed her, his mind turning over thoughts about Blair. Then he mentally shrugged. It need not have been anyone as high up as Blair. It could have been anyone at police headquarters,
down to the cleaners. If Josie was right, and there was under-aged drinking usually at the disco, then it stood to reason that Barry had been tipped off.
    The day was fine and cold. He slowed down on the shore road. Men were working on the seawall. The tide was out. They were working hard. He stopped and rolled down the window. ‘Got your
funds?’ he called to the foreman.
    ‘Aye, but we can only work when the tide’s out, otherwise we get battered wi’ the waves.’
    Hamish drove on until he reached the quiet street where Annie had lived. He decided to call on Cora Baxter first. The councillor’s wife answered the door. ‘Oh, it’s you,’
she said. ‘Come in.’
    Hamish wondered at first if everything in the living room was new and decided he was looking at terrifying housekeeping. The sun shone through the glittering windows on to a glass coffee table
where magazines were arranged in exact precision to line up with