Death of a Gentle Lady

its heyday. Look at the maids and butler lined up behind the family.’
    ‘What about that thin one underneath?’
    Jimmy tugged it out, laid it on the desk, and opened it.
    ‘Blueprints!’ he cried. ‘You have a look, Hamish. I’m fair lousy at making these things out.’
    ‘Leave me with it and go up and have a look at that wire. You’ll see what I mean,’ said Hamish, settling himself behind the desk.
    He began to study the blueprints carefully. His eyes widened as his long finger traced a staircase. Of course! When the castle had been built, there would have been a back staircase for the servants. It led down to the kitchen. There was a small stillroom, butler’s room, larder, and laundry room. The staircase led from the back of the kitchen. He called to Jimmy and when he entered the study said, ‘Look at this!’
    ‘What is it?’ asked Jimmy.
    ‘It’s a staircase. The back stairs for the servants. Let’s go and look.’
    They made their way into the kitchen, Hamish carrying the book of blueprints, which he put on the kitchen table. He looked around. ‘It should be over there where the new units have been put in.’
    He knelt down and searched the floor. ‘There are scratch marks here. This cupboard is on castors. Help me wheel it out.’
    The cupboard slid out easily. Behind was a door. Hamish put on a pair of latex gloves and opened it. ‘There are your back stairs,’ he said. ‘He could have come in this way. Look, there are footprints in the dust on the stairs.’
    They walked up to the first landing. A door which had led off it was bricked up. On they went to the second landing. Here they found a door. Hamish pushed it open and found himself looking at the back of a large wardrobe. He edged round it and found himself in one of the bedrooms.
    ‘That’s how he did it,’ said Hamish. ‘He must also have a key to the kitchen door. When he heard me coming down the stairs, all he had to do was nip out the kitchen door and wait until the coast was clear. He could walk along the cliff edge and nip over the boundary wall. May have had his car parked out on the road.’
    ‘We’d better go back downstairs and get everyone up here,’ said Jimmy gloomily. ‘These stairs and the kitchen have got to be dusted all over again. And I thought I was in for a few peaceful days!’

    No one was pleased with Hamish Macbeth. There were grumbles at headquarters, even Daviot saying, ‘Why couldn’t he have left things alone, instead of setting himself up like some sort of stalking horse?’
    It meant all the family had to be contacted again about the wire on the stairs, and all their alibis checked. Hours and days of police time and police money. ‘I’ve a good mind to sell that damn police station of his to recoup our losses,’ raged Daviot.
    The fact that they might have arrested the wrong man hung over headquarters like a black cloud.
    The next morning, Hamish was in his police station when Elspeth arrived. ‘I’ve been summoned back to Glasgow,’ she said. ‘Nothing to report until the court case.’
    ‘You’d best come in,’ said Hamish. ‘Some-thing’s come up.’
    Elspeth listened eagerly. ‘This is grand, Hamish. What a story! Secret staircase and all.’
    ‘The trouble is,’ said Hamish, ‘that you’ll need to get the facts officially. I suggest you go up to the castle, where they’re still searching for clues. I’d better give a hint to Matthew Campbell. Is he at the Highland Times ?’
    ‘No, he’s off to cover a dried-flower show at Bonar Bridge. Don’t worry. I’ll fill him in when I get back. Are you going to be all right? What if the murderer tries again?’
    ‘Don’t say anything in the paper about me suggesting I really knew something, or I’ll be plagued by time-wasting nutters,’ said Hamish.
    ‘I won’t.’
    ‘Now get out of here fast. I bet that Russian inspector will soon be here.’
    * * *
    And so it turned out. No sooner had Elspeth’s car disappeared along the waterfront than Anna was at the door.
    ‘We have to talk,’ she said.
    ‘You’re in plain clothes,’ said Hamish.
    ‘I was about to leave when your news broke.’ Anna was wearing a tailored grey suit over a white blouse. Her hair was tied at the back of her head with a thin black ribbon.
    When she was seated at the kitchen table, she said, ‘If Mark Gentle did not murder Mrs Gentle or Irena, then it might have been you.’
    ‘How do you work that out?’ demanded Hamish.
    ‘You did