Death of a Gentle Lady

force those doors and break the bolts.
    Hamish looked down at the tray. It was made of heavy metal, the kind used in hotels and restaurants.
    He carefully removed everything off it. He went over to the hatch and rammed the tray at the doors. They gave slightly. He went on using the heavy tray as a battering ram, time after time, pausing only to rest because he still felt weak.
    Finally, frightened and furious, he struck at the hatch doors with all his might. They crashed open.
    Panting, he waited a moment. Then, glad he was slim, he heaved himself through the open space and tumbled on to the floor on the other side.
    It was the same bare room he had seen when he had arrived, but it had been augmented by a camping stove and a small television set.
    The front door was, of course, locked. He wondered if the woman had been working alone and if she had put his clothes anywhere. He went into a small bedroom. There was an old wardrobe and an unmade bed. He opened the wardrobe and saw his uniform and boots lying at the bottom. He hurriedly dressed, listening all the while for the car returning. His belt with his police radio and all his other equipment was there. He strapped it on. In his pocket, he found his mobile phone and called Jimmy.
    Quickly, he told Jimmy where he was.
    ‘Found Macbeth!’ Jimmy shouted to the detectives’ room. ‘Come on, Andy, and get a couple of coppers. We’d better get to him fast.’
    Blair sat as if turned to stone. Then he suddenly seemed to recover from his shock. He rushed outside to the car park, got into his car, and phoned Ruby.
    ‘You let the bastard get away,’ howled Blair. ‘Don’t go back there. Did you use gloves?’
    ‘The whole time,’ wailed Ruby. ‘What’ll I do?’
    ‘Just go home. I’ll call on you later.’

    Hamish heard the welcome sound of sirens. Then he heard the battering ram striking the front door; after a few blows, it crashed open.
    ‘Are you all right?’ asked Jimmy.
    ‘I was knocked unconscious. I’m a wee bit shaky.’
    ‘We’ll take you to the hospital. I’ll get this place dusted for prints. Any idea who the hell is behind this?’
    ‘Not a clue,’ said Hamish. ‘It was a woman who answered the door to me. I couldn’t get a good look at her.’
    ‘Don’t worry. We’ll find her.’
    ‘I think you should get the other police cars away somewhere and come back on foot,’ said Hamish. ‘If we wait here, we’ll catch her – or them.’

    The owner of the cottage was tracked down. He said a woman had paid him cash for a three-month rent and had left a month’s deposit. He had rented it cheap because the place was in such a mess; he’d planned to get the house demolished and then sell the ground as a building plot.
    Asked where the contract was, he said the woman had told him they needn’t bother, and he was too glad of the money to insist.

    Blair sweated it out, terrified all the time that the search would lead to Ruby. They had footprints but no fingerprints, and footprints weren’t on file.
    He wasn’t too nervous about them finding any DNA, because the forensic lab was one of the most inefficient in Scotland. They were backed up with requests for DNA anyway, and most of the results were taking over a year to arrive.

    Hamish and Jimmy waited all that day and far into the night, but no one came. ‘Maybe whoever it is passed the police cars on the road and decided not to go back,’ said Jimmy.
    He drove Hamish back to the hospital in Strathbane. Hamish was examined and given painkillers. ‘We’ll need to take that Land Rover of yours away and give it to forensic,’ said Jimmy as they left the hospital.
    ‘What’ll I do for transport?’
    ‘I’ll try to get someone over with an unmarked police car. Who on earth do you think was behind this? Someone associated with Cyril?’
    ‘No, if it had been someone associated with Cyril, I feel I might be dead now. It was all very amateur. I feel in my bones that the woman was the only one in the cottage.’

    Blair was beginning to feel very uneasy. Daviot was raging about a police officer being kidnapped. The forensic team had been sent back to the cottage to go over it again.
    In the evening, he made his way to Ruby’s flat by a circuitous route. ‘This is a mess!’ shrieked Ruby. ‘It was on the telly. If they get me, they’ll lock me up and throw away the key. If they get me I’ll have tae say it was you.’
    ‘It won’t come to that,’ said Blair soothingly. ‘I