Bill too had been the one who’d never given up on his quest to get her to go to Castlebrae. How she had fought him on that. Rhona smiled in silent thanks that she’d finally listened to his wise advice.

‘You like the porridge pot!’ Chrissy said, thinking the smile had indicated that.

Rhona didn’t correct her.

Two cups of strong coffee later, Rhona made the call.

‘Good morning, Dr MacLeod. How was your porridge?’

‘You know about that?’

‘I was given full details this morning. I’ll take a bet and say you went for plain.’

‘You know me too well. So, what’s up?’

‘Wild swimmers spotted what they thought was a human hand in a raised peat bank next to Advie Lochan, south of Glasgow. We sent someone up to take a look and they confirmed the sighting. Since buried and hidden bodies are a speciality of yours, we’d like you to excavate the site.’

‘Okay. Can you send me the location?’

‘A police car will lead you out there. It should be with you in ten minutes or so.’

As she rang off, Chrissy appeared. ‘We’re off then?’

‘We are,’ Rhona said. ‘An excavation by Advie Lochan. South of the city.’

‘Cool. I’ll get organized.’ Chrissy paused for a moment. ‘I take it we’re in the wilds up there? Do I need to take a food supply just in case?’

‘Just not porridge,’ Rhona said firmly.

5

Diary entry of Karen Marshall aged 11

2 May 1975

They’re still looking for Mary. So am I. I’ve been to all the places we like. The den was first. She always went there when she was happy. I imagined her sitting in her white dress, but she wasn’t there.

Dad’s a detective, so he’s looking for her too. The police are going to every house in the street to ask questions. Nobody came out to play Kick the Can tonight. Dad wouldn’t even let me go outside the garden to skip on the pavement. I had to play ball against the side of the house.

When I was going to bed Dad asked me if Mary might have run away.

I know about Mary’s dad. How angry he gets if Mary, her big brother or sister don’t come in when he whistles on them. There’s a big belt he uses hanging up in their kitchen.

Mary never seemed to mind that, although she got the belt sometimes. The belt wouldn’t have made her run away. She had been confirmed in her white dress and veil. She was saved now and had a seat reserved for her in heaven.

When I told Dad that, he didn’t seem to understand about the dress. But the dress was the most important thing in Mary’s life. She would never go anywhere she might dirty her dress.

6

The scene on arrival had immediately reminded Rhona of a black-and-white photograph she’d seen of Saddleworth Moor, near Manchester, when the police had been searching for the bodies of three of the children killed by Ian Brady and Myra Hindley in the mid-sixties.