‘You’ve spoken to him?’

He hadn’t been intending to tell her about the interview, but massaging the truth had brought him to this point and he would have to answer.

‘He wanted to know about Colin’s discovery of the vandalized hot tub, then Harry spotting the human remains.’

‘And Colin never saw the remains before that?’

God, she was as good at interrogation as the Glasgow detective he thought, as he shook his head. ‘He hadn’t when he called me.’ And there it was, another lie.

He watched as she absorbed this before asking, ‘When was the hot tub put in exactly?’

Fortunately, he’d prepared his answer to that question, aware it would appear in a subsequent police interview.

‘I can’t remember exactly. Sometime after Ailsa’s disappearance. The owners sent up workmen from the south. Before that there was only a slabbed area for sitting out by the lochan.’

She nodded as though absorbing all of this, then came the question he’d been dreading.

‘How well did you know Ailsa?’

‘Not well. She was a fair bit younger than me.’

Even as he lied, he was recalling an image of Ailsa in the woods. The flashback shocked him with its intensity.

Gathering himself, he drank his whisky and went to pour another, turning away from Joanne until he might regain his composure.

‘Right. I believe our salmon should be ready by now,’ he said, keen to change the subject.

He could feel Joanne’s eyes on him as he took the fish out of the oven and carried it to the table.

‘There’s salad and home-grown early potatoes to go with it, plus a nice white wine.’ His trip to fetch the wine glasses from the fridge happened in what felt like a pregnant silence.

After this, she would likely tell him she had to get back to London. The thought distressed him and yet that would probably be for the best. At least until this was all over.

But would it ever be over?

Not if the police managed to uncover the truth of what had happened in those woods five years ago.

Greg

Leaving Beanach, he found the sky had cleared again with no prospect of rain, just as the forecast had predicted.

Most outsiders couldn’t believe how parched the Highlands would swiftly become without frequent rainfall. With the summer holidays now upon them, campfires would be the main concern. There were notices up about only using camping stoves and not live fires, but folk still lit them, and it only needed a single spark to start a moorland or woodland blaze.

The call from Stratton had followed their meal. With no mention of Joanne wanting to go back to London, he’d eventually relaxed and begun to enjoy himself. A feeling that had swiftly departed when his mobile rang and he’d found Stratton’s name on the screen.