Now it’s my turn, he told the dog.

The engine purring, the small boat began to trace a line across the calm waters of the bay. Two seals, who’d been his curious companions while at anchor, followed until the bow of the boat hit open and choppy water. Halting there, they regarded his departure from safety with large questioning eyes.

A wave broke over the bow, soaking Finn, who still stood as resolute as a figurehead. Dougie tasted salt on his lips, washed off intermittently by the raindrops that fell from an increasingly leaden sky.

There was a moment’s hesitation as he grew closer to the Orlova. A shift to port or starboard would decide. Finn, sensing his hesitancy, offered a little whine of encouragement.

Dougie had no need of it. He knew where he was going, and it wasn’t home.

32

McNab swirled the whisky round the glass, then paused to admire the colour before tasting.

He’d made the right choice with the Caledonian Sleeper, although it had been a rush. He wasn’t a keen flyer and by the time he’d agreed things with the boss, it was too late to get himself on a late flight anyway.

This way he would wake up in the centre of London, and avoid having to find a place to stay.

The boss had called him in again after his trip to IT, and it was obvious there had been a development. McNab had rarely seen the boss so angry. Whatever attempts he’d made to secure more cooperation from the Met had seemingly fallen on deaf ears.

The most likely next step, from what he could gather, was that the Orlova investigation would shift to London. The excuse being that the ship had been in international waters until the storm had blown it ashore on Orkney.

‘What about the fire death?’ McNab had immediately asked.

‘That’s where you come in, Sergeant.’

So here he was, sitting comfortably, having enjoyed a satisfactory meal, drinking his dram, all of which made up for the fact he would wake up in London.

There were three others in the bar with him. A couple of businessmen who were deep in a combative conversation about work, and a single female. Late twenties and classy, she was currently reading a book and enjoying a cocktail the barman had mixed for her.

She’d noted his bruised face on entry, and had quickly tried to cover her reaction. Meeting this with a grin had resulted in a warm return smile from her. In fact, at this moment, McNab was considering trying to draw her attention to him again, rather than the book.

As he took possession of a second whisky, his mobile vibrated in his pocket. Hoping it might be Ellie phoning to discuss when she would be free to come to the dinner party, he was initially disappointed to find Ava Clouston’s name on the screen.