Stop talking, she silently reproached herself. Magnus and Erling knew enough about interviewing techniques to recognize that giving too much information was usually done to cover a lie.

The moment ended and with it some of the tension, but not all.

‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to write up my notes from today.’ And with that Rhona escaped to her room.

She had survived the first encounter, but dinner later with Magnus might not prove so easy. Plus she still had Chrissy to deal with. For that she would have to rely on Chrissy’s need to talk, more than her own obligation to reply.

Chrissy must have been holding her mobile, so quick was her response. ‘I was just about to try you again,’ she said accusingly. ‘I thought you were supposed to fly down with the body tonight?’

‘If you could see and hear the weather at this moment, you’d know why I’m here until the morning,’ Rhona told her.

There was a harrumph as Chrissy digested this, then, ‘What happened on the ship?’

Rhona was happy to describe what she’d found.

‘So there was someone,’ Chrissy said thoughtfully. ‘And the beached body?’

‘A young black male, wearing a shirt with the Go Wild crest. Looks like his throat was cut before he went overboard. I’ll send you the images shortly of both the body and the room on the Orlova. Body will come down with me tomorrow.’

When Chrissy next spoke, there was a catch in her throat. ‘You’ve spoken to the boss? They can’t find McNab and I know something’s wrong. I just know it.’

Rhona repeated Bill’s words. ‘If Bill holds out hope for that,’ she said, ‘then so will we.’

53

‘Here, snort this.’

McNab watched in disbelief as a double line of coke was shaken across his hand. When he just stared at it, the voice said urgently, ‘It’ll take the edge off the pain. Hurry.’

‘Who the fuck are you?’ McNab said.

‘You don’t need to know.’

To McNab’s astonishment, his erstwhile tormentor angled the knife to score a bloody line across his own neck, followed by a couple more across his bare chest and arm, then handed him the knife and his jacket.

‘Through that door and turn left. There’s an emergency exit. Once outside, head for the gates. They’re padlocked, but there’s a loose bit of fence to the right of them. After that, it’s up to you. Now hit me and fuck off, Jock, back to Glasgow.’

His head singing with joy via the coke he’d just snorted, McNab happily obliged with the fist. Harder maybe than required. Certainly enough to see the guy fall with a painful grunt.