‘Isn’t that young Jerry Markham’s car?’ The journalist had a narrow face that made Sandy think of a rat. Thinning hair and enormous eyebrows. A long, red boozer’s nose.

He put the question to Sandy, but Willow answered.

‘You know Mr Markham?’

‘I knew him, my dear. His body’s in a bag and on its way to the ferry, so Jimmy Grieve can cut him open in the morning. I spoke to Annie Goudie, our funeral director, and she’s just confirmed it. We must definitely speak of the Golden Boy of journalism in the past tense, wouldn’t you say?’

‘When did you last see him?’ Willow obviously wasn’t going to allow herself to be provoked.

‘On Thursday evening. He offered to buy me dinner in the Ravenswick Hotel restaurant. Not as generous as that might sound, because his parents own the place and I’m sure he didn’t intend to pick up the bill. All the same, I wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that.’ Reg leaned against the camper van. Rumour had it that he was so short of cash when he moved to the islands that it had been his home for the summer. He lived in it, in the harbour car park in town. The windows at the back had grubby net curtains, so Sandy couldn’t see inside.

‘And what was the subject of your discussion?’ Willow’s voice was still frosty.

‘He was planning a big piece for his newspaper and he was a bit cagey. He knew I still had contacts in the London papers and was worried that I might follow it up on my own. Not that he said as much, but I could tell what he was thinking. And he thought right. I’d have been there like a shot, if I’d had the chance.’

Until now the day had been bright, with a gusty westerly blowing cloud shadows over the water. Suddenly everything was grey and Sandy felt the first drop of rain.

‘But if Markham was buying you dinner – even at his parents’ expense – he must have tried to get some information from you,’ Willow said.

‘Quite right.’ Sandy saw that Reg had been going to add another ‘my dear’, but thought better of it just in time. ‘No such thing as a free supper, in our business. That was my thought exactly.’

‘So?’ Willow showed that she was losing patience.

But Reg refused to be intimidated. ‘I’m local,’ he said. ‘I have contacts. I can help you in all sorts of ways.’

‘So?’

‘So, if I help you, you make sure that I get the story before the big sharks who, at this very moment, will be on the plane from Aberdeen.’