Magnus contemplated the number briefly, then rang it.

‘Marge here,’ answered a booming voice he recognized.

‘Marge, it’s Magnus Pirie.’

‘Professor. How are you?’

‘Well, Marge, thanks . . .’ As he hesitated about what to say exactly, Marge rescued him.

‘I take it Pat got in touch about Karen?’

‘She did.’

‘Something’s happened to her, Professor. I just know it. That bloody diary was haunting her.’

‘What diary?’ Magnus asked.

‘She had a diary she wrote around the time of her pal’s abduction. It was creeping her out and she asked me to look after it for her. Of course, I said yes. Then after the session earlier today, she runs off with the diary again. And I don’t think she’s planning to come back.’

Magnus realized from the brief words spoken that there was more to this tale than Pat Robertson had been aware of.

‘Can I come and speak to you about this, Marge?’ he said.

There was a moment’s silence before, ‘Sure thing, Professor.’ Marge started to give him her address in Raploch, then said, ‘Or better still, we can meet at the community hub. There’s a great wee cafe there with good coffee and scones. How long will it take you to get here?’

‘I’ll be there in an hour,’ Magnus promised.

33

They had moved into Bill’s office. Rhona noted the familiarity of the room, which she hadn’t been in for a while. The old swivel chair that Bill had rescued when, during renovations, someone had been foolish enough to throw it out.

It had been in here that Bill had tried to convince her to go to Castlebrae to recuperate and it was in this place that she’d thanked him for his concern and said no. That she would go to Skye instead.

In the end she’d needed both places in order to heal. One hadn’t been enough.

Bill was offering them coffee or tea, and urging them to take a seat. Rhona chose coffee, as did McCreadie, and both sat down. Rhona realized she wasn’t sure how to refer to the former detective. In her head, she thought of him as former DI McCreadie, but that had been a long time ago. She wondered whether he now preferred the Smart surname.

As Bill dealt with the coffees, Rhona posed the question.

He bestowed a smile on her. ‘Just call me J. D. That’s what my readers call me, and it’s also my autograph when I’m asked to sign books.’

‘Why did you change your name when you became an author?’ Rhona asked.

‘I started writing when I came out of the forces. It seemed sensible to have a pseudonym after both my previous occupations.’ He gave a half-smile. ‘I still have enemies from the past. What police officer doesn’t? Same could be said for Special Forces.’

Bill came over then and handed them their coffee.

‘I thought it important that you two meet in person, since this case may hopefully be helped by forensic developments in the last forty-five years. And since we appear to have no record of what was done back then in forensic terms, you,’ he nodded to J. D., ‘would seem to be our only known source of information on that front.’