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Chapters (47)
  1. Chapter One
  2. Chapter Two
  3. Chapter Three
  4. Chapter Four
  5. Chapter Five
  6. Chapter Six
  7. Chapter Seven
  8. Chapter Eight
  9. Chapter Nine
  10. Chapter Ten
  11. Chapter Eleven
  12. Chapter Twelve
  13. Chapter Thirteen
  14. Chapter Fourteen
  15. Chapter Fifteen
  16. Chapter Sixteen
  17. Chapter Seventeen
  18. Chapter Eighteen
  19. Chapter Nineteen
  20. Chapter Twenty
  21. Chapter Twenty-One
  22. Chapter Twenty-Two
  23. Chapter Twenty-Three
  24. Chapter Twenty-Four
  25. Chapter Twenty-Five
  26. Chapter Twenty-Six
  27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  30. Chapter Thirty
  31. Chapter Thirty-One
  32. Chapter Thirty-Two
  33. Chapter Thirty-Three
  34. Chapter Thirty-Four
  35. Chapter Thirty-Five
  36. Chapter Thirty-Six
  37. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  40. Chapter Forty
  41. Chapter Forty-One
  42. Chapter Forty-Two
  43. Chapter Forty-Three
  44. Chapter Forty-Four
  45. Chapter Forty-Five
  46. Chapter Forty-Six
  47. Chapter Forty-Seven

‘He should be there by now,’ Sandy said. ‘The Aberdeen flight is the first one in, and we fixed a lift for him.’ Already they were leaving the town behind and driving north past giant wind turbines spinning slowly on the hill. The land seemed bare and windblown. There were no trees, not even planted conifers. ‘Morag met him.’

Aith was away from the main road. Willow had checked it out on the OS map at home the night before. This was a single-track with occasional passing places, and it ran across bare hillside and peat bog. There were views of water everywhere: of the sea, salt-water inlets and small lochs. When they did meet a car, the driver waved or nodded. In a place like this strangers would be noticed, wouldn’t they? Though she supposed that the place attracted tourists and they might explore away from the main roads too.

Dropping down to the settlement, she saw evidence of the investigation even from a distance. More cars than you’d expect. The blue-and-white police tape twisting in the breeze. A group of people showing unnatural interest in one big rowing boat, which had now been winched up onto the jetty so that the pathologist could get a good look at the body in situ. As she watched, a white tent was erected around it. There were gawpers, of course. Even in a small community like this there’d be sightseers who thought it’d be interesting or exciting to see a dead body. Here, a couple of old men and a handful of children gathered on the edge of the action.

‘We’ve taken over the school for the weekend,’ Sandy said suddenly. ‘It has Internet connection, phones and a kitchen so that we can feed the troops. Toilets.’ He paused and she realized suddenly that he was waiting for her approval. It would never have occurred to her that he’d need it. This was his territory after all.

‘Good!’ she said. ‘Great idea.’ And she watched him relax and beam.

They parked in the school playground. Walking towards the jetty, they were approached not by the suited and booted police officers or the pathologist, but by a middle-aged woman who was standing just outside the cordon. When she saw Willow she held out her hand. ‘Rhona Laing,’ she said. ‘I’m the Procurator Fiscal.’ She had an Edinburgh accent. Classy Edinburgh, clipped and glacial. She wore a tweed jacket over a cashmere sweater and grey wool trousers. Sensible shoes that managed not to look dowdy. ‘You must be Inspector Reeves. I understand that you’re to be in charge of the investigation.’ She allowed just enough surprise into her voice to annoy Willow. People were always thinking she didn’t look the part. It wasn’t her fault if she wasn’t what they were expecting. ‘You’ll be reporting to me while you’re here.’