Death of a Gentle Lady

were going through the case.’
    Priscilla smiled. Anna, with her Putin-like features, was hardly the beauty she had imagined the night before.
    ‘Inspector Krokovsky is staying here,’ said Hamish.
    ‘Then we will do everything we can to make your stay pleasant,’ said Priscilla.
    When they were both in the Land Rover, before driving off, Hamish phoned his friend Angela Brodie, the doctor’s wife. ‘Angela, I’m going to be out most of the day. Do you think you could look after Sonsie and Lugs?’
    ‘Hamish, you’ll need to find someone to regularly take care of your pets. You’re always asking me.’
    ‘Just this once,’ pleaded Hamish.
    ‘You always say that. Oh, all right, but I’ve got to rehearse my part.’
    ‘What part?’
    ‘I rather got bullied into playing Lady Macbeth.’
    ‘When did this happen?’
    ‘That author held a meeting in the village hall last night. I rather got coerced into it.’
    ‘Mrs Wellington thought she was up for the part.’
    ‘She changed her mind.’
    ‘Who’s playing Macbeth?’
    ‘Geordie Sinclair, the gamekeeper.’
    Anna was drumming her fingers impatiently on the dashboard. ‘Got to go,’ said Hamish quickly.
    ‘Are our investigations always to be delayed while you search for a sitter for your animals?’ demanded Anna.
    ‘Och, no,’ said Hamish. ‘All settled now.’
    ‘Is Lady Macbeth anything to do with you?’
    ‘It’s Shakespeare. Amateur production.’
    Anna settled back in the passenger seat with a sigh. In Moscow, she would have considered it well beneath her dignity to be escorted by a mere constable. She hoped the file she had read on Hamish Macbeth had not been mistaken. There was no time or place in a murder enquiry for eccentrics. And yet she had to admit to herself that there was something likeable about the man with his flaming red hair, gangly figure, and gentle hazel eyes.
    ‘Is this a real castle?’ she asked as Hamish drove up the drive.
    ‘It’s what we call a folly.’
    ‘Does it have a name?’
    ‘I think when it was first built, it was called Braikie Castle, but for years now it’s only been known as The Folly. You can see why. It’s ower-small for a castle, like a stone box with towers stuck on.’
    Hamish’s heart sank when he walked into the hall and saw the burly figure of Detective Chief Inspector Blair. The man must have a cast-iron liver, he thought. He introduced Anna.
    ‘Well, Anna,’ said Blair with a leer. ‘What’s a pretty lady like you doing up in peasantville?’
    ‘My name is Inspector Krokovsky,’ said Anna coldly, ‘but you may address me as ma’am.’
    Blair scowled. ‘You, Macbeth, get back to your sheep. There are enough of us here.’
    Anna’s voice was like ice. ‘Constable Macbeth is driving me. He will stay.’
    Blair’s temper flared up. ‘May I remind you I am the senior officer here?’
    Daviot loomed in the background. ‘A word with you, Mr Blair, if you please.’
    Jimmy came to join them. He said to Anna, ‘The family are gathered in the drawing room. Would you like to meet them?’
    ‘I would like to see where Irena’s body was found first of all. Constable Macbeth can show me.’
    ‘Is the cellar locked?’ asked Hamish.
    ‘No,’ said Jimmy.
    Hamish led the way. He switched on the light at the top of the stairs, and they both walked down.
    ‘Irena’s body was found in the trunk here,’ said Hamish, pointing.
    ‘And she died from a blow to the head?’
    ‘I think it was one sharp blow. I think it was delivered by someone she knew, someone she was not afraid of.’
    ‘That would mean a member of this family.’
    ‘Perhaps. Unless it was someone from the time she was working in London. The castle door, as I remember, often stood open.’ Hamish struck his head. ‘I’m an idiot.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘On the day of the wedding, Mrs Gentle was catering for the reception. There were the usual fiddly bits on trays and a bar. Knowing what I do of the late Mrs Gentle, she would not intend to pass the food round herself or serve the drinks. She must have employed a catering company. No, wait a minute. If, as I believe, she was being blackmailed into holding the reception, she would want it done as cheaply as possible. I’d better get into Braikie and interview Bessie Hunter, one of the women who was cleaning up afterwards. She might know.’
    ‘I will come with you.’
    ‘I’d better report to Detective Chief Inspector Blair.’
    ‘I think we will leave him for