Death of a Gentle Lady

Macbeth?’
    ‘What’s happened to him?’ asked Elspeth anxiously.
    ‘He’s getting married, that’s what, and to some girl with a foreign name.’
    ‘Let me see.’
    There it was in black and white in the Highland Times , an announcement that the marriage of Hamish Macbeth to Ayesha Tahir would take place in the registry office in Inverness on Wednesday, in two weeks’ time.
    Elspeth felt miserable. Hamish hadn’t married her, but the consolation was always that he hadn’t married anyone else.

    Colonel Halburton-Smythe phoned his daughter Priscilla, who was working in London. ‘Hamish Macbeth is getting married in a couple of weeks, and to some foreigner.’
    Priscilla held the receiver so tightly that her knuckles stood out white. ‘Who is this female?’
    ‘Some Turk who was working as a maid for one of the locals. Stunning-looking girl.’
    He went on to talk about the running of the hotel while Priscilla barely listened. Hamish! To be married!

Chapter Two

    Marriage is a desperate thing.
– John Selden

    Hamish Macbeth was thoroughly miserable. After all the red tape had been gone through and he had permission to marry Ayesha and had returned triumphantly to tell her the news, it was to find that Mrs Gentle had taken over.
    He raged at Ayesha, who had just informed him that Mrs Gentle had not only promised Ayesha a generous gift of money and said the reception should be held in her home, but even paid up for the church roof. She was restored in the eyes of the highlanders to local saint.
    Hamish, hearing all this horrible news from Ayesha at the police station, said grimly, ‘Then the wedding is off.’
    Ayesha looked at him with cold eyes. ‘If you cancel this wedding, I will tell everyone you got my visa forged.’
    ‘Then you’d be deported.’
    ‘If you don’t marry me, I’ll be deported anyway.’
    Hamish, normally easy-going, could feel himself in the grip of a blind rage. The news of his forthcoming marriage had made his bosses relent and promise that he could keep his police station. If he cancelled it, his station would be under threat again.

    Mrs Gentle was sitting over her accounts, scowling at them. She was regretting her generosity. She had guessed Hamish Macbeth was behind her recent fall from grace and, knowing that he would be furious with her for taking over the wedding arrangements, had done just that. She had supplied Ayesha with a wedding outfit. But now she had learned that a highland wedding reception was a free-for-all. Everyone from around the Highlands, from gamekeepers to fishermen and forestry workers, would be cramming into her elegant home. She tapped her pen against her still-perfect teeth. Then there was that ridiculous sum of money she had promised Ayesha. Something about the girl had made her uneasy. What had she overheard when the family had been in the castle for that reunion?
    She rang the little silver bell on her desk. When Ayesha appeared, Mrs Gentle said with her sweetest smile, ‘I am doing a lot for you.’
    ‘And I am so grateful,’ said Ayesha.
    ‘The fact is, it is all more than I can really afford. I am afraid I won’t be able to give you the ten thousand pounds I promised you.’
    ‘I need that money!’ exclaimed Ayesha.
    ‘My dear girl, you are to be married.’
    ‘A policeman does not earn much.’
    ‘Then get a job!’
    Ayesha looked down at her and said in carefully measured tones, ‘If you do not give me the money, I will tell everyone about you. I will tell them everything I overheard at that family party of yours.’
    Mrs Gentle turned in her chair and looked up at her. For one moment, Ayesha felt frightened. Mrs Gentle’s eyes were full of hate and venom. But then she turned away and said quietly, ‘I’ll see what I can do, Ayesha.’

    Hamish Macbeth’s wedding day. Only a few villagers were going to attend the ceremony in Inverness: the rest would congregate at Mrs Gentle’s for the reception.
    Jimmy Anderson was to act as best man. Ayesha had arrived the evening before and left two large suitcases at the police station. Hamish realized he would need to let her have his bedroom while he slept in the cell. His dog, Lugs, and his wild cat, Sonsie, had sensed their master’s misery. Whenever Ayesha appeared, Lugs growled and Sonsie glared at the girl with baleful eyes.
    Jimmy found Hamish sitting at his kitchen table in his dressing gown. ‘Come on, man,’ he cried. ‘Get a move on.’
    Hamish sighed and uncoiled