Rhona didn’t know what to say to that, so said nothing.

Leaving Chrissy at her bus stop, Rhona set off home through the park, which had almost returned to its normal self, the broken branches either gone or else stacked neatly awaiting removal.

When she opened her front door, Tom seemed inordinately pleased to see her, suggesting she’d forgotten to refill his pet feeder. When she discovered she had, Rhona apologized and set things to rights, at which point Tom lost interest in her again.

As for her own evening meal, she ordered in a vegetable curry, hoping the spicy smell and taste would supplant the ones she still carried with her.

Despite her earlier shower at the lab, she had another, sticking every item of clothing into the washing machine and donning a fresh set, convinced the smell was emanating from her pores. Her timing was spot on as the buzzer went shortly after, heralding the arrival of her curry.

At that point Tom decided she was interesting again, but, for the sake of peace in which to eat, Rhona opened the kitchen window and let him out onto the roof. Something that didn’t happen often since the Sin Eater case. And definitely didn’t happen when Sean was about.

Standing at the window, Rhona took solace from the fact that the Virgin Mary was no longer surrounded by water, and order had been restored.

Not so, though, in real life.

After her meal, with Tom back inside and the window shut, Rhona settled by the fire, her laptop on her knee, to read over her report from the locus. Deep in thought, she didn’t register the drill of her mobile at first, then, seeing the name on the screen, answered with a smile.

‘Magnus. You’ve survived Birka’s visit?’

‘I have. What about you?’

‘Still have a roof, although the park was in a state this morning when I headed for work.’ Rhona waited, aware that Magnus had called her for something other than a chat about the weather.

‘I wondered if you’d caught the news about the ship that was washed up at Yesnaby during the storm?’

Rhona listened to Magnus’s tale of the MV Orlova.

‘So it’s a crime scene?’ she said, her interest now truly sparked.

‘Yes. It’s been towed into Scapa Flow. In fact, it’s sitting within view of my dining-room window as we speak. Erling’s expecting an MIT to be sent up, plus of course forensics. He’s planning to ask for you, since you’ve been to Orkney in that capacity before.’

‘Excellent,’ Rhona said. ‘Chrissy will be well chuffed about that.’

‘And you must both stay here, of course. It’ll be handier than being in a hotel in Kirkwall.’