Death of Yesterday by M. C. Beaton Page B

clear.”
    “It’s a grand day,” said Dick looking out of the window. “We both need a rest.”
    “On the contrary,” said Hamish. “They’ll all be concentrating on alibis. We should go over to the hospital and ask around.”
    “Don’t you want me to stay behind and look after Sonsie and Lugs?”
    “I’ll take the beasts with me,” said Hamish curtly. “Get your uniform on.”
      
    At the hospital, Hamish and Dick went up to the corridor outside Hannah’s room and walked along until they found the back
     stairs and then started to walk slowly down.
    “Have forensics been over this?” asked Dick uneasily. “We could be charged with mucking up a crime scene.”
    “They’ve been and gone,” said Hamish. “There’s fingerprint dust all over the banisters.”
    At the bottom of the stairs, there was a fire door. They pushed it open and found themselves at the back of the hospital.
     Hamish turned and scrutinised the building. “Not a camera in sight,” he muttered. “Our murderer either knew about that or
     was lucky in his desperation.”
    He scanned the ground. A little way away was a small patch of earth, still damp from the previous day’s rain. There was the
     mark of a single tyre. “Looks like a bicycle track,” said Hamish. “They should have taken a cast of it.”
    He walked back to the fire door. “Cigarette butts all over the place,” said Hamish. “This must be one of the places where
     the staff nip out to have cigarettes. We’ll go back in and see if there’s any of them in the canteen.”
      
    In the canteen, he tried to pull Dick back from heading for the service counter but Dick said, “We need to eat and get something
     for the beasties.”
    Hamish released him and then started to go round the tables where staff were having coffee. Not one admitted to having seen
     anything.
    Dick came back with two coffees, buns, and pies for Sonsie and Lugs. Hamish gulped down his coffee and said, “You go and feed
     Sonsie and Lugs and then meet me round at that door. The ones in the canteen were probably not smokers. I’m going to wait
     there and see if anyone comes out.”
    Hamish waited patiently outside. After half an hour, a hospital porter came out and lit a cigarette. “Were you out here yesterday?”
     asked Hamish.
    “Aye, but I wasnae murdering anyone.”
    “Did you see anyone at all?”
    “Cars down on the road. I was on my own. Oh, I mind, there was a hoody on a bike just going round that corner on the left.”
    “What did he look like?”
    “I only got a glimpse. You ken what these hoodies are like. They aye look the same.”
    “What colour of hoody?”
    “Grey.”
    “Small, fat, thin?”
    “Medium built, average size. It was one o’ thae wee collapsible bikes folks carry around in their cars. Hood right ower his
     head.”
    “What time was this?”
    “Be about dinnertime.”
    Correctly understanding that by dinnertime, he meant midday, Hamish asked, “That was about the time the murder was committed.
     Didn’t you think to tell the police?”
    “Didnae think.”
    “Did you see any other members of the staff when you were out here smoking?”
    “Naw. On my lonesome.”
    Hamish took down his name and address and said they would be in touch with him.
    Dick arrived, brushing crumbs from his regulation shirt. Hamish told him what he had found out. “I’d better phone Jimmy,”
     he said. “We’ve got to find out if anyone in Cnothan owns such a cycle.”
    Jimmy listened in silence, and then, as if realising he might be missing out by keeping Hamish out of the investigation, said,
     “Get over here. I’ll let you look through the statements. You might see something I’ve missed.”
      
    Once in Cnothan, Hamish sent Dick back to Lochdubh with his pets. The village was now swarming with press, and he didn’t want
     any photographer snapping a picture of his wild cat and starting up arguments about the legality of having such an animal
     as a pet.
    He