Death of a Valentine Part 12

"Anyone in particular?"

"Harry Ma.s.sie, the English teacher."

"Is he still teaching at the school?"

"Last I heard."

Outside the town hall, Hamish sighed. "Another suspect. Let's see this English teacher."

"What about Iona?" asked Josie. "She must have borne a grudge against Annie."

"I haven't forgotten her," said Hamish. "But she doesnae seem the type to know how to put together a sophisticated bomb."

Harry Ma.s.sie was a tall, rangy man in his late thirties. He had thick brown hair, a beaky nose, and a small mouth. He was wearing corduroy trousers and a well-worn Harris tweed jacket over a checked s.h.i.+rt open at the neck.

"We want to ask you about Annie Fleming," said Hamish.

Josie got an inner glow. Hamish was beginning to say we we.

"Poor girl. Any idea who did it?"

"Not as yet. I must ask you this: Did Annie Fleming make a pa.s.s at you?"

"By all that's holy, someone who doesn't think she was a saint. Yes, she did."

"Explain what happened."

The cla.s.sroom smelled of chalk, sweat, and dust. Outside the wind howled and screeched.

Harry leaned on his desk. "Annie was very good at English. Then she started waiting in the cla.s.sroom until the others had left, asking me questions. I began to feel uneasy because other members of the staff began to tease me about being seen alone with Annie. So I told her that if she had any questions, to put them in writing and leave them on my desk and not to stay behind in the cla.s.sroom. I was very firm with her. I held the door open for her and she...she stuck her tongue in my ear.

"I told her I would report her and she laughed and said who would ever believe me and if I didn't keep my mouth shut she would report me me for having tried to rape her. I felt nothing but relief when she left the school for good." for having tried to rape her. I felt nothing but relief when she left the school for good."

"Who's the chemistry teacher here?"

"Sol Queen. But I hardly think..."

"Where can we find him?" asked Hamish.

Harry glanced at his watch. "He'll be in the staff room having a break. I'll take you along."

Various teachers were standing at an open window in the staff room, smoking and braving the gale that was blowing in.

"Sol," said Harry. "The police want a word with you."

An elderly teacher turned around. He had spa.r.s.e grey hair and thick gla.s.ses. "We can't talk here," he said. "Come outside."

Josie and Hamish followed him into the corridor. "What is it?" he asked, peering myopically up at Hamish. Hamish thought that Annie could hardly have made a pa.s.s at this elderly gentleman, so he asked instead, "Is there anyone you can think of who might have the expertise to make a letter bomb?"

"Funnily enough, I've thought of that. But I cannot think of anyone at all-apart from me. I mean, I would know which chemicals to use, but I would not know how to install the fuse. That takes a lot of sophisticated knowledge."

Hamish had a sudden idea. "Do you have computer cla.s.ses in the school?"

"No. We were supposed to get them, but there is so much else needing to be done here. The roof's in need of repair and it would mean finding extra money over the cost of the computers to hire another teacher."

Hamish thanked him and then, as they walked towards the entrance, he phoned Jimmy. "Did forensics go through Annie's computer?"

"She didnae have one," said Jimmy. "Her father says that computers are the instruments o' the devil. They searched the one at the wildlife place but nothing but business on it."

Hamish rang off. "I can't think of any young person who didn't use the Internet," he said. "There's that new Internet cafe, just off the main street. Let's try there."

The Internet cafe was run by a Pole, Lech Nowak, and the place was full of Polish accents as other immigrants e-mailed home.

Hamish asked whether Annie Fleming had ever used the cafe. "The girl that was murdered? No, she never came in here," said Lech.

Another possible lead gone, thought Hamish gloomily.

The cafe sold snacks, so Hamish suggested they should both eat something. He hoped his pets were all right back at the police station. He was worried that the hit man might call back to finish the job and shoot the animals.

After they had finished eating, Hamish said, "I'm going back to that minister's. I know the parents have probably been interrogated but I want to speak to them myself. But I would like you to go back to the town hall and have a talk with Percy Stane. Make a friend of him. Sympathise. See if you can get anything more out of him and in a roundabout way, see if he got any phone calls from Mark."

Hamish was not looking forward to interviewing the Flemings. What sort of parents had produced such a manipulative drug-taking daughter?

Chapter Seven.

In for a penny, in for a pound- It's Love that makes the world go round! It's Love that makes the world go round! -W. S. Gilbert -W. S. Gilbert Josie didn't get much out of Percy. He protested that he had never even met Mark Lussie, nor had he received any phone call. Josie tried to trick him by lying and saying she knew he had received a call from Mark Lussie, whereupon the usually rabbit-like Percy had rallied, telling her that she was lying and he would put in an immediate complaint about police hara.s.sment. Alarmed, Josie protested that perhaps she had received false information, but Percy simply held the office door open for her and told her to go.

The early northern night had fallen, and the wind whipped clouds across a cold little moon overhead.

Josie suddenly had an idea. She would get a taxi, go back to Lochdubh, clean up the police station, and have a hot supper waiting for Hamish when he returned.

Hamish, meanwhile, was facing Mr. and Mrs. Fleming. He had expected to confront a pair of parental tyrants but found Annie's mother and father to be decent, ordinary, and grief-stricken.

"I believe, if you don't mind my saying so," said Hamish, "that you appear to have been rather strict with your daughter."

"We only did it for her own good," said Mr. Fleming. "She never protested. She was a good girl. I won't believe all those nasty stories that folk are circulating about her."

"Annie did have drugs on her body," said Hamish.

"Someone must have tricked her. We brought her up to fear the Lord and do the right thing."

Hamish turned his attention to Mrs. Fleming. She was in her late fifties, and he judged she must have had a baby later in life than most mothers. Her face had the drained, exhausted look of someone who has been crying for days.

"Mrs. Fleming," asked Hamish, "do you know of any particular friends she might have had?"

"No, she didn't socialise much with the young people from the church. She seemed happier with our friends when we had them round for tea." Hamish guessed that tea tea meant high tea, still served in the north in a lot of households instead of dinner. meant high tea, still served in the north in a lot of households instead of dinner.

"May I have the names of your friends?"

"Well, there's the Baxters."

"That would be your neighbours-Cora and Jamie Baxter?"

"That's right. And also old Mrs. McGirty. Mr. and Mrs. Tallent, of course. We all got on very well and Annie appeared to enjoy their company."

"The minister seemed to have been fond of Annie."

"He was so good. He pointed out the dangers a young person in this day and age could be subjected to. He even gave Annie private religious instruction."

"How often?"

"Sometimes twice a week in the evenings."

"And did this go on until her death?"

"No. Mr. Tallent said he had to give up the instruction because of the weight of parish duties."

Hamish made notes and asked several more questions. Then he asked, "Is Mr. Tallent at home?"

"I believe he is at the church," said Mr. Fleming.

Hamish walked to the low stone church next door. He opened the door and went in. It was a small kirk with pine pews and a stone-flagged floor. It was very cold. He remembered hearing that this was one of the stricter churches. It did not have an organ but made do with a chanter, a man who struck a tuning fork against one of the pews to introduce the hymn singing. He saw the huddled figure of the minister in a front pew. He was seated with his head buried in his hands.

Hamish went up to him. Although Mr. Tallent must have heard the sound Hamish's boots made on the stone floor, he did not move.

Hamish laid a hand on his shoulder and said quietly, "I need to be having another word with you, Minister. It's about that private religious instruction you were giving Annie."

Mr. Tallent raised his head. "I tried to protect Annie from this sinful world but she must have been corrupted by that creature Jake."

"I think Annie was quite good at corrupting people herself. Did she come on to you?" asked Hamish.

"What a disgusting suggestion!" raged the minister.

Hamish sat down beside him in the pew. "Look here," he said gently, "Annie was verra manipulative and she liked power. I think she made you fall in love with her. I think your conscience got the better o' ye and you stopped the lessons."

"She confessed to an admiration for me," said Mr. Tallent after a long silence. "I was sinfully flattered. I became impatient with my wife. I nearly lost my faith. Yes, I stopped the cla.s.ses and said I would only see her in the kirk. She shrugged. Then she laughed at me and called me a silly old goat." Tears began to run unchecked down his cheeks. "I went a bit mad. I even thought of killing her. But I didn't. Believe me, Sergeant, I wouldn't know how to begin to make a letter bomb.

"Does any of this have to come out? It would devastate my wife and daughter. And the scandal!"

"Chust so long as I don't find any proof linking you with the murder, I'll keep quiet," said Hamish, feeling embarra.s.sed faced with the man's grief and shame.

When he got out of the Land Rover in front of the police station, he found Willie Lamont waiting for him with the dog and cat at his heels. Willie had once been a policeman, working for Hamish, but he had fallen in love and married the beautiful daughter of the owner of the Italian restaurant and had gone happily into the catering trade.

"What's up, Willie?" asked Hamish.

"Sonsie and Lugs were around the restaurant and I thought it was time to bring them hame."

"You know where the key is, Willie. You shouldnae be standing here in the cold."

"I don't know where the key is. I tried the door but it's locked. There's someone inside moving about and that big cat flap is jammed shut."

Hamish took out his own key and snapped open his baton. "Stand back, Willie," he said quietly.

He quietly unlocked the door. Josie was standing over the stove, wearing a frilly ap.r.o.n over a short black dress and high heels.

"What in G.o.d's name do you think you're playing at, McSween?" roared Hamish. He swung round and looked down at the cat flap. It had been taped shut. "And why are my poor beasties out in the cold?"

"I-I th-thought it would be great to take you a meal and give the place a bit of a clean," wailed Josie.

"Out!" shouted Hamish. "Get the h.e.l.l oot o' here and neffer, effer do anything like this again. Shoo! Get lost."

Josie burst into tears. She seized her coat from a chair and ran out into the night.

"Wimmin," said Hamish, taking out a clasp knife and beginning to slice the tape on the cat flap.

"Och, you was awfy hard," said Willie. "The la.s.sie meant well. Look how clean the place is."

"It's my home," said Hamish. "Thanks for looking after my beasts, Willie."

Willie left but Hamish was not to be left in peace for long. A wrathful Mrs. Wellington descended on him. "That poor girl is crying her eyes out, you brute. Instead of thanking her, all you did was shout at her."

"She had no right to just invade my home-"

"It's not a home. It's a police station."

"It iss my home. She shut my animals out in the cold."