Death of a Nurse by M. C. Beaton

said.
    “That’s very kind of you,” said Hamish.
    “Aye, well, it’s a pity you’re not the one she fancies.”
    “Are you talking about the inspector?”
    “She seems a hard woman, but when she looks at thon Charlie, her face goes all soft.”
    “Maybe it’s just maternal instinct,” said Hamish.
    “Och, away wi’ ye. Thon’s a budding romance.”
    “Have you got a camera?” asked Hamish.
    “Aye.”
    “There’s a fellow there wi’ the press who disnae seem to belong, a ferrety wee man wi’ a big nose and a comb-over. Could you get me a photo of him and e-mail it to me? Here’s my card.”
    “I can do that.”
    Hamish climbed into the Land Rover and drove to Kinlochbervie. The first thing he saw were policemen going from door to door. He cursed Fiona but then remembered that Sonsie and Lugs had been locked up in the Land Rover for too long. So he drove up onto the moors and let them out and sat eating the ham sandwich and drinking coffee as his pets ran through the heather.
    The trouble with winter in the Highlands, thought Hamish, was that there was so little sunshine, it was like living in long hours of darkness.
    He was sure that Jessie had been poisoned. He had said nothing about the fairy cave. How could it have been done? Say someone called on her and Jessie had started to talk about the fairy cave. Maybe a present of a bottle of something and why don’t you take some to the fairies? He had not searched the cave. He had backed out quickly so as not to contaminate the crime scene. Would the forensic team have been to her house yet? Would they even know what to look for? He called to his animals and set off full-speed for Jessie’s home.
    There was no police tape yet outside. He put on his full forensic gear and then tried the door. It wasn’t locked. He searched the kitchen first. Two cups and saucers had been washed and were lying on the draining board. He made his way quickly to the living room. He knew he had to be quick. As soon as the neighbours got the news, they would be gathering outside. And he didn’t want to be caught by the forensic team. The living room was neat and clean. He was about to turn away when his eye caught something glittering on the floor near the sofa. He bent down and examined it. It was a strand of sparkling ribbon, the kind used to wrap a present.
    He hurried out and took off his forensic suit and went to question the neighbours. Had any strangers been seen?
    The woman next door said that only a couple of what she described as Bible bashers, a man and a woman, had called the day before. No one else. Their description didn’t match anyone that Hamish had seen at the hunting box.
    Whoever it had been, thought Hamish, could have come during the night and left a package on the doorstep. Maybe Jessie had decided to share some treat with her fairies in the cave. Or could it have been suicide? No, he couldn’t believe that. She had looked as if she had died in agony. He diligently knocked at doors up and down the street. Jessie had been well liked, considered daft but harmless, and the neighbours were shocked to learn of her death.
    More police arrived and started going from door to door. Police tape was put up in front of Jessie’s house.
    Neighbours gathered in the street, talking in whispers.
    Hamish returned to the café to be told by a local reporter that the police had left. Guessing they had gone to Harrison’s, he set off. As he was turning into the drive, his iPad clicked. He opened it. There was a message from Sheena. “You ran off before I could catch you. Attached is a photo of the man you’re interested in.” Hamish clicked on the photo and studied it. Then he moved on to park outside the house.
    Fiona, Charlie, and Jimmy were standing outside. “Why aren’t you at Kinlochbervie?” demanded Fiona.
    “Overmanning,” said Hamish. “You’ve already got the place covered in police. But I’ve got something to show you.” He took out a forensic bag