‘I’m sorry,’ she said, putting her hand on his arm.

‘It looks like he got caught in a rockfall on a scree slope below Sgurr nan Gobhar. He was partly buried by the rocks and had fallen a fair bit, by the state of the body, in particular his face.’

‘He was climbing the Cuillin in this weather?’ Rhona said, glancing at the window.

‘We think he’s been lying up there a while, but there’s no sign of an abandoned vehicle left at the Fairy Pools’ car park, or further down near the Youth Hostel.’

‘So how did he get there?’

‘From the gear, he was equipped to stay out in the open for some time, so he could have simply walked in – from where, we don’t know.’

‘Any idea who he was?’ Rhona said.

‘Despite the gear, he had no ID, no mobile or wallet on him.’

‘Isn’t that strange?’

‘Some folk leave their valuables back where they’re staying or in their car. And a serious walker knows there’s no mobile signal where they’re going.’

‘Was he reported missing?’

‘No. It looks like a lone climber. That’s not unusual. And neither is the absence of a car. Some folk make a point of not bringing a vehicle, relying on the island bus service. Feels more authentic that way.’

‘Then how did you know to look for him?’

‘A drone image.’ He took another mouthful of the whisky coffee. ‘We had to carry him out. That’s why it took so long. Bristow don’t lift dead bodies and even if they did, the visibility was down to nothing, so no night flying.’

‘God, you must be starving,’ Rhona said, suddenly realizing just how long he’d been out. ‘I’m not much of a cook, but I can make you a fry-up?’

‘Thanks, we had rations with us, and now I’m way past eating. I just need a shower and bed, with another Talisker to send me to sleep.’ He swallowed the remains of the coffee.

Rhona hesitated. ‘There’s no chance he might be one of the medics? Alvis and I spoke to the girl yesterday, and she said the four men were out on survival training but couldn’t tell us where. Lee’s keen to locate them.’

Jamie looked taken aback by this. ‘I’ll speak to Lee in the morning. The body’s in the mortuary at Broadford. No post-mortem or police facilities, but you could take a look tomorrow, before he’s shipped off to Glasgow.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Rhona said.

‘So, any news regarding the beach body?’ Jamie said cautiously.

‘You haven’t heard?’

‘Heard what?’

‘It’s Paul Watson, better known on Skye as—’

‘The Snowman,’ Jamie finished for her. ‘Jesus. That’s bad, very bad.’ He looked at her. ‘You know why?’

‘Archie told me.’