The light would fade soon, and although a couple of SOCOs had been examining the area deemed most likely to have originated the fall, Rhona was keen to view it herself.

As it was, perhaps immunized by her recent cliff descent, being lifted by the coastguard and deposited in the field next to the car park hadn’t raised Rhona’s heartbeat too much. As for Chrissy, she was beyond excited, insisting she had her photo taken during the transfer. Rhona could see the image being on show at the jazz club on her return to Glasgow. There and everywhere else Chrissy might interest someone in her ‘rescue’.

Waiting for their lift, Rhona had brought Chrissy up to date on the incident in the woods behind A.C.E Target Sports.

‘And you suspect the dead guy may be linked to that?’

Rhona couldn’t say that exactly, but time-wise it might fit. The state of decomposition of the body on the beach could certainly place the death in that time frame. She explained about the head injury and the material she’d collected from the tree trunk. ‘The majority of the shore victim’s injuries were from impact as he landed on his front. But there was a sizable older wound on the back of the head.’

‘Which may provide a match for the material you found in the birch tree?’

‘And the blood deposits,’ Rhona had added. ‘Has anything come back on those, and the soil samples I sent?’

‘God, I forgot to tell you, Jen Mackie came back on the soil. Seems she did find evidence suggesting cocaine. Something about benzoylecgonine?’

Rhona knew it would have been unlikely to find cocaine molecules in the soil. The natural water content would have metabolized the cocaine quite rapidly. Jen would have had to look for the cocaine metabolites, the predominant one being benzoylecgonine, its presence indicative of cocaine having been there.

‘And you detected cocaine on your faller?’

It’d been one of the first tests Rhona had done on the body.

‘According to Sergeant MacDonald, it’s increasingly the drug of choice for both visitors and locals and it’s available on the island, despite all their efforts.’

‘Maybe the victim got high and went too near the edge?’ Chrissy had suggested.

‘Or maybe,’ Rhona had said, ‘that’s what we’re supposed to believe.’

Crossing the stream that left the small loch to tumble over the cliff face, Rhona, led by Blaze and followed by Chrissy, took the path that wound its way along the headland. The wire fence between them and the sheer drop was a grim reminder of just how easy it would be to stray too close, especially in the thick mist of earlier.

When Blaze had indicated he wished to accompany them, Rhona had been happy to agree.

‘He’s safe on the cliffs?’ she’d asked Donald.