Death of a Snob (Hamish Macbeth Mysteries, No. 6)
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"Pure bliss." Atlanta Journal & Constitution
A Hamish Macbeth Mystery by the author of "Death of a Hussy."
With a cold in his head and no place to go for Christmas, Hamish snaps up the invitation of drop-dead gorgeous Jane Wetherby to spend the holiday at her Scottish island health farm -- and figure out who is trying to kill her.
When Hamish arrives on the island of Eileencraig, he finds threatening locals and fellow guests barely more civil, especially a terrible snob named Heather Todd. It seems like everyone on the island has a grudge against Jane. How to choose among so many suspects?
But then one suspect is eliminated. Heather Todd is murdered. And suddenly Hamish's Christmas is looking very black indeed . . .
Heather and Diarmuid. “What about Jane?” asked John. “I don’t think she means to come,” pointed out Hamish. “And besides, we never told her which way we were going on our walk.” “Two in the front and the rest up on the back,” said Geordie. They all rattled cheerfully on their way and were soon settled in the bar of The Highland Comfort, ignoring the hostile stares of the locals and getting quite tipsy. Geordie had said he didn’t dare join them, lest the islanders damn him for consorting with
rather they looked happy and excited. Ian was talking about sheep, a subject close to any islander’s heart, and he had a rapt audience. Harriet came back carrying a large bag. “Blankets and food,” she said briskly. “Right,” said Hamish. “Now let’s see if someone can lend me a car.” One islander, clutching a large tumbler of whisky, cheerfully parted with his car keys, and Hamish with Harriet made his way back over to the west. The men put on guard were happy to be relieved. “We will chust be
reflection as a lover does from the face of his beloved. “Oh, Jessie was round yesterday afternoon and cleaned the place up. She’s got a kind heart. I couldn’t bear to do it myself.” “And where did she put the stuff?” “Into a couple of big garbage bags. Why?” “Where are the garbage bags?” said Hamish, getting to his feet. “Downstairs, ready for collection. As a matter of fact, the garbage truck should be along about now. What…?” He looked in amazement as Hamish and Harriet ran from the room.
it is,” said Hamish. He put his arms around Harriet and held her close and bent his head to kiss her. He finally raised his head and looked down at her curiously. She was stiff in his arms and she had only endured that kiss. “I think,” said Harriet breathlessly, “that we should call on Diarmuid.” “Why?” demanded Hamish, made cross by rejection. “The police’ll have phoned him.” “Well, it’s New Year’s Eve and I have a feeling he’ll be all alone. Did you notice the times we were there that the
“You spoil that dog,” said Miss Gunnery as Hamish placed a fish supper on its cardboard tray down in front of Towser. Hamish did not reply. He knew he spoilt Towser but did not like anyone to comment on the fact. “Why does a woman like Doris marry a pillock like that?” asked Andrew Biggar. June Brett nudged her chubby husband playfully in the ribs. “They’re all saints before you marry them and then the beast comes out.” Dermott Brett snarled at her and his wife shrieked with delight. Faces