Usually the last thing he would have wanted was to conduct interviews with the Fiscal sitting in. She made him nervous. But now he thought he could do with a different perspective. She was an educated incomer like most of the field centre residents.

James drove them north to the lighthouse. ‘I’ve left my car there. I’ll pick it up and go straight back to Springfield. What’ll I tell Fran?’

‘That I probably won’t get back tonight and she’s not to worry.’

Chapter Twenty-three

Dougie had spent a lot of the day at Golden Water. The swan was still there. He’d already started writing his account of its discovery for British Birds and as the light had improved he’d taken more and clearer photographs. Of course there were other things at the back of his mind – anxieties about murder and the police investigation – but he’d always been able to focus completely when he was birdwatching. It was his usual means of escape.

Now the light was fading and he made his way back to the lighthouse. On the way he stopped three times to answer his mobile phone. There’d already been half a dozen missed calls when he’d been watching the swan. The north end of the island had very patchy reception. All the calls were from birdwatchers on the Shetland mainland, checking that the bird was still there, making plans for coming into the Isle to see it the following morning.

‘I’ve been watching it all day,’ he said. Jaunty, exaggerating too, of course: he hadn’t spent all day at Golden Water. ‘Mind-blowing views . . . Yeah, if you like, I can meet you at the plane and walk up with you.’ He sensed a new respect in their attitude. He’d always be remembered as the guy who found the UK’s first trumpeter swan. The storm and the wait in Lerwick would only add to the mythology.

It was quite dark when he got to the centre. He dumped his gear in the dormitory, then went to the common room and helped himself to a can of pop, putting the money in the honesty box, because nobody was running the bar. The place had a deserted feel and he realized that was because there was no sound coming from the kitchen. Jane usually had the radio on. Not music but talk and the discussion seeped through as a background hum into the common room. The quiet unnerved him and though he still felt awkward when he remembered the truth game, he was relieved when Hugh and Ben wandered through. Something about the empty lighthouse spooked him.

‘We met up on the road north,’ Hugh said. He caught Ben’s eye. Dougie wondered why Hugh had felt the need to explain the meeting. Was there something conspiratorial in the way they looked at each other?