Death of a Liar Read Online Free PDF Page B

a bit.”
    â€œI left a note for this Anka,” said Hamish. “If she doesn’t turn up after we’ve eaten, I’ll go and bang on a few doors.”
    Hamish, Dick, and the dog and cat gathered round the fire, Hamish and Dick sitting on canvas chairs. It was cold and clear with bright stars burning overhead.
    Glassy waves curled and crashed on the beach. It was hard to believe that a vicious murder had taken place in such a quiet setting.
    They were just finishing their meal when they were bathed in a greenish light. “Look at that!” cried Dick. The aurora borealis, the northern lights, swirled overhead, like some beautiful sky ballet.
    â€œI never get tired of the sight,” said Hamish dreamily.
    He lay back and stared upwards.
    â€œDid you want to speak to me, Officer?”
    Hamish jerked upright as a vision walked into the firelight. “I’m Anka,” said the vision.
    Hamish had often made jokes about the women in detective stories with high cheekbones, auburn hair, and green eyes, but this was exactly what he found himself looking at.
    He stumbled to his feet. The fire blazed and crackled; the green lights danced and swirled overhead. He was never to forget the enchantment of this first sight of Anka Bajorak.
    â€œI did want to ask you some questions,” he said.
    â€œThen we’ll go to my cottage.” She turned away, and Hamish followed.
    Dick watched them go with a sour expression on his face. His one fear was that Hamish would get married and that he would have to leave the police station which he regarded as his little palace.
    Anka led the way into a small kitchen- cum -living-room. She bent down and put a match to the fire, which had been laid ready to light. She was wearing narrow jeans, showing long legs ending in low-heeled ankle boots. Anka took off the scarlet puffa jacket she had on and slung it over the back of a chair.
    Hamish tried hard not to stare. Her blue cashmere sweater showed small, high breasts.
    Anka took down a bottle of whisky and two glasses. She poured a small tot of Scotch into each glass and handed one to Hamish. Hamish felt he should say he did not drink on duty, but, then, who would know?
    She indicated he should sit down at the kitchen table. Hamish raised his glass. “Slainte,” he said.
    She sat down opposite him and asked, “What is it you want to know?”
    Her voice had only a slight accent. The truth is, thought Hamish, I want to know if there is a man in your life. But he said, “What was your impression of Liz?”
    â€œI was very angry with her. She told me her great-grandparents were Polish and were killed during the Warsaw Uprising in World War Two. She said she loved my baking but was so short of money. I gave her a big parcel of cakes and rolls as a present and began to ask her about Poland. I quickly realised that she was lying. Then someone told me she was quite wealthy. Then there was that business when she claimed to have cancer. Such a liar. I avoided her after that.”
    â€œI gather from Mrs. Mackay,” said Hamish, “that your baking is so famous, people come from all over to buy stuff. That must bring strangers into the village.”
    â€œYes, but no one strange, if you know what I mean. You know what it’s like in the Highlands, everyone knows everyone else. I had some trouble with the men, so Mrs. Mackay told me to stay out of sight and she began to tell visitors that she bakes everything herself.”
    â€œDo you know the villagers very well?” asked Hamish. “How long have you been here?”
    â€œI’ve been here six months. And, yes, it is such a small place, I do know everyone.”
    â€œDid you ever hear anyone threatening Liz Bentley?”
    â€œThere was a lot of fuss when they found she had tricked them over the cancer business. Someone broke her windows.”
    â€œThe highlander can be vengeful if he thinks he has been made a fool