Appearing with J. D. Smart on stage will be Mary’s childhood friend Karen Marshall, who helped identify her friend’s killer forty-five years later. On stage too will be Marge Balfour from the Raploch women’s recovery cafe, who, together with the other women in the group, helped Karen recall what had happened to her as a child.

Advances in forensic science, together with the retrieval of Karen’s memories, were instrumental in solving this case.

Mary’s killer and Karen’s abuser, Eric Jackson, died earlier this year as he attempted to silence Karen forever.

Acknowledgements

I’d like to thank my sister-in-law for her story of the haunting appearance of her dead cat, and my neighbour for the scary story of the two crows in her sitting room. Both tales gave rise to the idea for the opening chapter.

After I’d written it, I was asked to visit the women’s recovery cafe in Raploch, Stirling, where they were reading the first Rhona book, Driftnet. They were working on their own writing projects, mutually supporting each other in their recovery. Meeting them and listening to their work was the inspiration for telling Karen’s story.

As is always the case, I could not write a Dr Rhona MacLeod novel without expert help from the real practitioners of the world of forensic science. I love the research involved because of the fascinating input from the people below.

So a big thank you to:

Professor of Anthropology at Lancaster University Sue Black DBE FRSE FRCP FRAI, for her advice regarding what we can learn from peat bodies.

Professor Lorna Dawson at the James Hutton Institute for sharing her knowledge of raised peat bogs in Scotland, and her invaluable appearance as Dr Jen Mackie, forensic soil scientist.

Emeritus Professor of Forensic Pathology James Grieve for his advice regarding the autopsy of a peat-buried child.

A big thanks, too, to my wonderful editor Alex Saunders and the team at Pan Macmillan, who I think know Dr Rhona MacLeod almost as well as I do.

OUT NOW

DRIFTNET

Go back to where it all began with thrilling

first novel in the Rhona MacLeod series.

Read on for an extract now . . .

1

THE BOY DIDN’T expect to die.

When the guy put the tasselled cord round his neck, grinning at him, he thought it was just part of the usual game. The guy was excited, a dribble of saliva slithering down his chin and falling onto the boy’s bare shoulder. He nodded his agreement. He was past feeling sick at their antics. He lay back down, turning his head sideways to the greyish pillow that smelt of other games, closed his eyes and shifted his thoughts to something else. There was a goal he liked to play out in his head.

On the right, the Frenchman, arrogant, the ball licking his feet, thrusting forward. The opposition starts to group and there’s a scuffle. Bastards. But no worry ’cos the Frenchman’s through and running, the ball anchored to him, like a child to its mother. The crowd breathes in. Time stretches like an elastic band. Then the ball’s away, curving through the air.