Free Death of a Dreamer by MC Beaton

noticed the tall figure of a policeman standing outside.
    He went to walk past but found himself being hailed.
    ‘Mr Addenfest?’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘I am Police Constable Hamish Macbeth. I’d like a wee word with you.’
    ‘What about?’
    ‘Effie Garrard. Do you mind if we go inside?’
    They went into the hotel lounge. ‘So what do you want to know?’ demanded Hal.
    ‘I believe you took her out a couple of times.’
    ‘So?’
    They were interrupted by a maid placing a tray with coffee and biscuits in front of them.
    ‘What’s this?’ demanded Hal angrily. ‘I didn’t order anything.’
    ‘It’s on the house,’ said the maid. ‘Mr Johnson knows Hamish likes his coffee.’
    ‘I hope she doesn’t expect a tip,’ grumbled Hal when the maid went off and stood by the door. ‘Yeah, Effie Garrard. I saw her stuff in the gift shop. It’s good. I
met her there, and we got talking. I took her out a couple of times. Expensive restaurants. Cost me nearly . . . Wait a bit.’ He took a small leather-bound notebook from his jacket
pocket.
    ‘Never mind,’ interrupted Hamish. ‘I want to know about Effie herself. Coffee?’
    ‘Sure they aren’t going to charge me for it?’
    ‘No!’
    ‘Keep your shirt on. Yes, Effie. Well, she was good company. She’s had a very colourful life. She and her sister were brought up in an orphanage in Perth. Caro was adopted first, but
they didn’t want Effie. She was finally adopted by a family in Inverness. She said the woman beat her and the husband sexually abused her.’
    ‘What was the name of the people who adopted Effie?’
    He took out his notebook again.
    ‘Man, ye surely didn’t sit taking notes while she was talking!’ exclaimed Hamish.
    ‘Afterwards. I’m going to write a book.’
    ‘We had an author over at Cnothan,’ said Hamish. ‘Someone murdered him.’
    ‘Here we are!’ said Hal, ignoring Hamish’s last remark. ‘Cullen, that was the name. George and Martha Cullen.’
    ‘And where in Inverness did they live?’
    ‘Somewhere out on the Bewley Road.’
    ‘Did she give you the name of the orphanage?’
    ‘Sorry.’
    ‘So what else did she say?’
    ‘If what I tell you leads to the capture of someone, will I get a reward?’
    ‘No.’
    Hal closed the notebook again. ‘Well, that’s all, folks. You are wasting my valuable time. I’ve nothing more to say to you.’
    ‘What if I arrest you for impeding a police investigation?’
    Hal grinned. ‘And what if I tell you what I know? The police have decided it’s suicide. Case closed. So unless I hear differently, I’ll keep any information about Effie I have
to myself. You wanna know any more? Tell your bosses to phone me.’
    Hal got to his feet and, picking up the plate of biscuits, headed off for the stairs.
    Priscilla came and sat down opposite Hamish. ‘How did you get on?’
    ‘Horrible wee man.’
    ‘He’s a one-off. We’ve got an American family staying here, and they run when they see him.’
    Hamish eyed her speculatively. ‘Hal wrote down everything Effie told him in a notebook. She told him she was brought up in an orphanage in Perth and subsequently adopted by a couple in
Inverness who abused her. You couldn’t charm some more information out of him?’
    ‘I’ll think about it.’
    Hamish returned to the police station. He found a George Cullen at an address in Sutherland Terrace which he remembered being off the Bewley Road. He phoned. When a man
answered, Hamish introduced himself and asked, ‘Mr George Cullen?’
    ‘Aye, that’s me.’
    ‘Did you adopt an Effie Garrard a long time ago?’
    ‘We fostered her for a bit.’
    ‘May I come and talk to you?’
    ‘Aye, any time. I’m long retired. Sad thing about her death.’
    ‘I’ll leave now,’ said Hamish, ‘and be with you in just under an hour.’
    The Cullens’ house was a small, granite Victorian villa. Hamish rang the bell, and an old stooped man answered the door.
    ‘Mr Cullen?’
    ‘That’s me.