Death of an Outsider Read Online Free Page B

too. Mainwaring’s not short of a bob, and I could have got the owners of these houses a lot more money. He went along with cash and they sold cheap.
    ‘Speak of the devil,’ said Mackay, twisting his head round. ‘Here he comes.’
    Mainwaring had just entered and walked up to the bar. He was followed by two enormous Sutherland men, both well over six feet in height.
    ‘And who are his companions?’ asked Hamish, feeling he should escape before Main-waring saw him, but being held to his seat by curiosity.
    ‘Alistair Gunn is the one with the leather hat on,’ said Mackay. ‘He works for the Forestry Commission and makes money on the side by working as a ghillie when the toffs come up from London. His friend, Dougie Macdonald, is a ghillie when he’s not collecting his dole and sleeping.’
    Hamish had heard that the local landowner, Mr Kringstein, a toilet-roll manufacturer, ran his home and estates in the time-honoured way. Contrary to gloomy expectations, he went on much as the aristocrat he had bought the land and estates from had done. The ghillies, or Highland servants, made their money when Kringstein had a house party. They went out on the river with the guests and showed them, if necessary, how to fish, and carried their tackle and rowed them up and down.
    It was obvious to Hamish that the two ghillies wanted to get away from Mainwaring, but were kept by his side because they had accepted his self-appointed role as laird, much as they resented it. ‘Do ye know what happened to my aunt the other day?’ said Alistair Gunn. ‘She was on the bus to Golspie and wearing her new fur coat and she could hear this bairn behind her, chattering to its mither, and then she smelt oranges, and the next thing she knew, she could feel something rubbing at the back of her new fur coat.’
    ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Mainwaring testily, ‘that happened to everyone’s aunt, and the story is as old as the hills. You were about to say that the next thing your aunt heard was the kid’s mother saying, “Don’t do that, dear. You’ll get fur all over your orange.”‘
    ‘I wass not about to say that,’ said Alistair Gunn. ‘Not at all. It was a different thing entirely.’
    ‘Then what was it?’ asked Mainwaring, his voice full of amused contempt.
    ‘Well, I am not going to tell you, because you are not going to listen,’ said Alistair huffily.
    ‘You mean you can’t tell me,’ jeered Main-waring. ‘The trouble with you chaps is that you hear an old story or a joke on the radio and immediately you decide it’s something funny that happened to your aunt or uncle.’
    The pub door opened and two other men came in. Alistair and his friend hailed them with relief.
    ‘Dearie me,’ said Hamish. ‘Does he always go on like that?’
    ‘Always,’ said Mackay gloomily. ‘He’s spotted you. Here he comes.’
    Mackay reflected he had never seen anyone move with such speed. One minute, the constable was sitting at his ease; the next, he had darted out of the door.
    Mainwaring dived after him. ‘Macbeth!’ he called. But there was no movement in the darkness.
    Hamish, who had run around the side of the pub, waited a few moments, and then started to walk towards the manse.
    But there was no friendly welcome from Mrs Struthers. The minister was there, and so, with many nervous looks at her husband, Mrs Struthers said there was no one at the Women’s Rural Institute who would behave in such a way, and no one in Cnothan had any reason to wish the Mainwarings ill.
    Hamish went sadly back to the police station. He felt homesick. He did not switch on the lights when he got to the police station, but sat on the floor of the kitchen with the curtains drawn and the little television set on the floor in front of him.
    After fifteen minutes, he heard the bell at the police-station end resounding furiously through the house, followed a few minutes later by knocking on the kitchen door.
    Towser let out a low growl and