Death of Yesterday
through and now it seems as if I never knew her at
     all!”
    “Did she talk about Geordie Fleming?”
    “She said he was a waste of space.”
    “He says he dumped her.”
    “I can’t believe that. What woman would look at Geordie?”
    “But didn’t the very fact that she went out with him make you think she might be bisexual?”
    “It was before she took up with me. She said she went out with Geordie because she was lonely and then she said it was better
     off to be lonely than to be bored by George.”
    “Any other men? What about her boss?”
    “Harry Gilchrist? She despised him. Oh, wait a bit. The head of personnel, Pete Eskdale, used to have lunch with her in the
     office canteen.”
    “I thought she would have preferred to have lunch with you.”
    “She said in backwaters like this, people were cruel to lesbians.”
    “Odd, that,” commented Hamish. “I mean, folk would just think you were nothing more than a pair of female employees.”
    “I don’t know anything any more,” said Freda and began to sob.
    Hamish ended the interview and went outside to where Jimmy was standing.
    “So what did you get out of that?” asked Jimmy.
    “I think Morag was blackmailing someone,” said Hamish, “and for a lot of money, too. I’d like to interview Pete Eskdale. Has
     anyone else interviewed him?”
    “Not as far as I know. Blair’s been ordered to take a backseat. I’ll probably see you over at the factory.”
    “Haven’t forensics even found just one little clue?” asked Hamish.
    “Nothing. Not even one hair or a bit o’ spit. But they say she was killed elsewhere and from the marks on her body, she’d
     been lying on some hard floor. There’s good news anyway. We’re going to take DNA samples from every man in the factory. If
     we find the father of that baby, I think we’ll find the murderer.”
      
    Hamish drove Freda back to Cnothan. She asked to be taken to the factory. “It’s better if I lose myself in work,” she said.
     Hamish glanced across at the small, sad, crumpled figure in the passenger seat and felt a surge of hatred for the murdered
     woman.
    At the factory, Freda scurried off. The baling area was taped off, and white-coated figures could be seen searching the whole
     place.
    Hamish walked in the main door of the factory and asked the girl at the reception desk where he could find Pete Eskdale.
    “I’ll phone him,” she said. “I’m Betty McVee, Angus McVee’s girl.” She was small and plump with a rosy face.
    “Is Angus still with the forestry?”
    “Aye. Dad’s hanging on but a lot are being laid off. I’ll get Mr. Eskdale for you.”
    Hamish did not have to wait long. The glass doors leading to the interior of the factory were suddenly thrust open and a tall,
     energetic man breezed in. He was in his thirties with close-cropped ginger hair. His eyes were bright blue. His otherwise
     handsome face was marred by a small, pursed mouth. He was wearing a charcoal-grey suit, a striped shirt, and a blue silk tie.
    Hamish looked at him in dawning recognition. “I’ve seen your face in the papers,” he said. “You won the lottery last year.”
    “Only a million.”
    “That’s surely enough to stop work,” said Hamish.
    “Not these days. By the time I’d paid off two ex-wives and the children, there wasn’t much left. Can we go outside?”
    They walked together out into the heat of the day. “Storm’s coming,” remarked Hamish.
    Pete looked up at the cloudless sky. “How can you tell?”
    “The swallows are flying low and that means rain coming, and after all this heat, that’ll mean a storm. Let’s sit in the shade
     over there on that bench.”
    When they were seated, Hamish began. “You must have been the one who hired Morag Merrilea. Why get a lassie all the way up
     from London?”
    “It’s a new factory. There was a bit on television about new projects succeeding despite the recession. It got shown down
     south. Morag saw it and wrote and
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