Death of a Gentle Lady

fell on Jimmy. ‘What were you doing up here?’
    ‘Day off, sir,’ said Jimmy. ‘Thought I’d help Macbeth look for his missing fiancée.’
    ‘And whit made ye look ower the cliff?’
    ‘I thought she might have been killed,’ said Hamish.
    ‘More likely to hae committed suicide at the thought o’ being wed to a loon like you,’ said Blair.
    They all looked at the tent where, in the strong lights that had been rigged up, the shadow of the pathologist could be seen bending over the body.
    Blair retreated to his car. Hamish waited anxiously. Dr Forsythe at last emerged. She went straight up to Hamish. ‘It’s murder, plain as day,’ she said. ‘She was strangled before she was thrown over the cliff.’
    ‘What this?’ demanded Blair, lumbering up. ‘You should report first to me.’
    Dr Forsythe looked at him with dislike. ‘It’s a murder. Mrs Gentle was strangled and thrown over.’
    ‘The women cleaning the house might have seen something,’ said Hamish.
    ‘Whit women?’ growled Blair.
    ‘She had hired women from Braikie to clean up the mess after the reception. I called on her earlier today to have a look at Ayesha’s room and see if she had left any clues. There was nothing. All she had is in the two suitcases she left at the police station. In one suitcase is ten thousand pounds given to her by Mrs Gentle. When Jimmy and I were here this morning, we could hear the women cleaning.’
    ‘We’ll need those suitcases. Was her passport in one of them?’
    ‘No,’ said Hamish. ‘No passport.’
    ‘Looks as if she strangled her employer and ran for it. She must have got that passport picture doctored somehow.’
    Hamish stiffened. ‘Why?’
    ‘Why? Because we got a photo of the real Ayesha wired over, and she’s fair but small. Get into Braikie, Macbeth. I’ll send some other men as well. We’ve got to find thae maids.’

    Hamish drove into Braikie. He stopped at a fish-and-chip shop and bought a fish for Sonsie and a meat pie for Lugs, watched while they ate, and then drove off to the council estate. He remembered that Bessie, who used to do the cleaning at the Tommel Castle Hotel, had moved to Braikie. What was her married name? Hunter, that was it. He took out his laptop and brought up the Highlands and Islands telephone directory. There were only two Hunters on the estate, a J. Hunter and an A. Hunter. He could not remember the first name of Bessie’s husband, so he tried the address of A. Hunter. Bessie herself answered the door.
    ‘Why, Hamish!’ she said, looking alarmed. ‘What’s up?’
    ‘Nothing to do with your family,’ said Hamish. ‘Can I come in?’
    She stood back and he walked into Bessie’s cheerful living room. ‘Where’s your man?’ he asked.
    ‘Andy’s doing late shift at the paper works in Strathbane.’
    Hamish removed his cap. ‘Sit down, Bessie. This is about Mrs Gentle. She’s been found murdered.’
    ‘Oh, my God! How? Where?’
    ‘Someone strangled her and threw her over the cliff. Now, were you working for her?’
    ‘Aye, me and Annie Chisholm.’
    ‘When did you finish?’
    ‘We finished about three in the afternoon. She’d been hustling us along because she was paying by the hour. We started at nine in the morning.’
    ‘And she was there when you left?’
    ‘No. The phone rang. She looked quite cheerful but said she had to go out for a breath of fresh air.’
    ‘What time would this be?’
    ‘It would be just about after you left. I saw you drive off. That would be around eleven o’clock. She asked us how long it would take and as she wanted the bedrooms and the like cleaned as well, we told her it would be around three in the afternoon. She’d been complaining about the price since the minute we arrived but she paid up the money without a murmur. I asked her if she wouldn’t be back before we finished, and she said, “Maybe not. Here’s the spare key. Lock the door behind you and put the key through the letter box.”’
    ‘And how did she seem?’
    ‘Quite happy, not excited. Poor woman. Who would kill her? Is your lassie still missing, Hamish?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Bessie’s round country face creased in sympathy. ‘It’s a right shame.’
    ‘Where does Annie Chisholm live?’
    ‘Round the corner. Broom Close, number ten.’
    ‘If you can remember any little thing, let me know.’

    Annie Chisholm was a short, burly woman. When she heard Hamish explain the reason for his visit, she exclaimed, ‘I didnae like the