Death of a Gentle Lady

able to do something.’
    Hope shone in her blue eyes. ‘Do you think it possible?’
    ‘Maybe. But you’re not to talk to anyone at all about it. I see you’re twenty-five years old. That’s not young for a student.’
    ‘My father wanted me to marry a local businessman. I stalled. I said I would if I could get an education first. I studied English at Istanbul University. When I got my degree, I applied for permit to further my studies at London University and received three years to gain a PhD. When I got my degree, I applied for a work permit but was refused. I started to work as a maid in a hotel. It was the only work I could get. Then Mrs Gentle stayed at the hotel. I was cleaning her room. She offered me work. She seemed so kind. It was a great mistake.’
    ‘Finish your meal and come back here as soon as the family party is over. I might have something for you then.’
    * * *
    Peter Brimley, a small wizened man, opened his door in a side street of Inverness the following day and scowled up at the tall figure of Hamish Macbeth.
    ‘Whit now?’ he snarled. ‘I’ve done my time and I’m going straight.’
    ‘I’d like to come in. I’m here to offer you money for some of your skills.’
    ‘This is a frame-up?’
    ‘Don’t be daft. I won’t want to get found out even more than you would. Let me in.’
    Hamish walked into Peter’s small living room. There was a large desk by the window with a powerful lamp over it. Peter rushed forward and swept a pile of papers into a drawer.
    ‘Going straight, my arse,’ said Hamish cheerfully. ‘But I am about to join the world of criminals. I want you to forge a passport for me. Well, not forge a passport, chust a visa.’
    Peter stared at the floor in mulish silence.
    ‘Come on, man,’ said Hamish. ‘It’s a simple job for a genius like you. I didn’t put you away. Inverness police did that.’
    Peter shrugged in resignation. ‘Let me see the passport.’
    Hamish handed it over. Peter went to his desk and sat down. Hamish waited impatiently. At last, he demanded, ‘Well?’
    ‘Aye. I could alter it to give her another three years. But that’s all.’
    ‘Grand. How soon?’
    ‘Gie me a week. Right. Now to the money.’
    Hamish blinked at the price but was in no mood for haggling. ‘You’ll get your money when I get the altered visa. I’ll be back next week.’
    Outside, Hamish phoned Ayesha, who had given him her mobile phone number. He told her he might have something for her in a week’s time but cautioned her not to breathe a word to anyone. ‘Hasn’t your father been trying to track you down?’ he asked.
    ‘I phoned him two years ago and told him wasn’t coming back. He said I was no daughter of his and he did not want to see me ever again.’
    ‘That’s sad, but it makes things less complicated.’

    Hamish felt like Santa Claus a week later when he handed Ayesha her altered passport. ‘This is wonderful,’ she said. ‘At least I have three more years.’
    Then Hamish had a really mad idea. ‘There is something else we could do,’ he said.
    ‘What is that, my dear friend?’
    ‘We could get married.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘That way you would become a British citizen, have a British passport, and get work in a school or a university. Then we get a divorce.’
    A cynical, wary look entered her blue eyes. ‘And what would you get?’
    ‘The fact that I was a married man would make them at headquarters leave me alone for a bit. I happen to know that there are no quarters for married men in Strathbane. I get my police station and you get your passport.’
    ‘What about sex?’
    ‘You know, I’ve been thinking about that,’ said Hamish with almost childish candour. ‘You are gorgeous and yet I don’t fancy you. No vibes.’
    ‘You will be shocked.’
    ‘I’m a policeman. I’m past being shocked.’
    ‘I am a lesbian.’
    ‘What a waste! I mean, everyone to their own bag. But since we’d be getting married just for appearances, it doesn’t matter.’

    A week later, Elspeth Grant was sitting at the reporters’ desk at the Daily Bugle newspaper office in Glasgow dreaming of the Highlands. She thought it was high time she went back for a holiday. She wondered how Hamish was getting on and if he ever thought of her.
    A colleague came up to her and said, ‘I’ve got the job of trawling through the local Scottish papers for stories to follow up. Didn’t you know that policeman in Lochdubh, Hamish