Her car was not there, and he realized that she must already have left for Glasgow. But there was a light burning in the kitchen window, and he made a dash for the door through the rain. There was no one in the kitchen and he went through to the living room where the television was playing the evening news in the corner. But there was no one here either. He went out into the hall and called upstairs to Fionnlagh’s bedroom.

“Anyone home?”

A line of light lay along the foot of the door and he started up the stairs. He was only halfway up when the door opened and Fionnlagh came out on to the top landing, shutting it quickly behind him. “Fin!” He seemed startled, surprised, oddly hesitant, before hurrying down the stairs and squeezing past Fin on the way. “I thought you were in Harris.”

Fin turned and followed him down to the living room, where he could see in the light that Fionnlagh was slightly flushed, self-conscious, almost embarrassed. “Well, I’m back.”

“So I see.”

“Your mum said I could use the plumbing whenever I needed to. Until I get things fixed up at the croft.”

“Sure. Feel free.” He was clearly uncomfortable, and moved now through to the kitchen. Fin followed in time to see him opening the fridge. “Beer?” Fionnlagh turned, holding out a bottle.

“Thanks.” Fin took it, twisting off the cap, and sat down at the table. Fionnlagh hesitated before taking one himself. He stood leaning back against the fridge and threw the cap across the kitchen into the sink before taking a long pull at the bottle.

“So what did you find out about Grampa?”

“Nothing,” Fin said. “Except that he’s not Tormod Macdonald.”

Fionnlagh stared at him, a look of vacant incomprehension on his face. “What do you mean?”

“Tormod Macdonald died at the age of eighteen in a boating accident. I’ve seen his death certificate and his grave.”

“It must be some other Tormod Macdonald then.”

Fin shook his head. “It’s the Tormod Macdonald your grandfather claims to be.”

Fionnlagh took several swigs of beer, trying to digest this. “Well, if he’s not Tormod Macdonald, who is he?”

“Good question. But not one he’s likely to give us an answer to any time soon.”

Fionnlagh was silent, then, for a long time, staring into his half-empty beer bottle. “Do you think he killed that man they found in the peat bog?”

“I have no idea. But he was related to him, that’s for sure. And if we can establish the identity of one, then that’ll probably tell us who the other is, and maybe what happened.”

“You sound like a cop.”

Fin smiled. “It’s what I was for most of my adult life. The mindset doesn’t change overnight just because you quit your job.”

“Why did you?”