‘Okay, I’ll speak to Chrissy. And thanks.’

‘You’re welcome, but you know that.’ Jamie smiled. ‘And here comes your food.’

Ten minutes later, her plate cleared, Rhona checked out the area around the bar.

Lee had requested she ask at the hotel if they had a mobile number for the medic team who’d stayed there. There was no reception area in the small hotel, both room and meal bookings being managed via a laptop behind the bar, which was currently too busy to deal with her request. Rhona decided it could wait, especially now she wasn’t setting off on the hour’s drive from Portree to Armadale.

Unusually for Chrissy, she’d merely waved at Rhona but had not yet made any attempt to come and engage her in conversation, which suggested she was definitely enjoying herself.

Rhona thought again how pleased she’d been to see Chrissy on the shore. Back then Chrissy’s head had been encased in a parka, then in a forensic suit. Now Rhona could admire the current hair colour, which, she realized, resembled a rainbow that shone radiantly in the firelight.

Relaxing back in the chair, her appetite appeased, Rhona sampled the whisky Jamie had brought her and decided that she was indeed a fan of Talisker. That thought brought an image of McNab trying valiantly to Skype her.

Her plan had been to make contact with him tomorrow morning, but she was sufficiently in the zone now to face him tonight. Only problem was, where exactly? It was much too noisy in here, even though there was a decent signal, and she didn’t fancy heading back out in the cold to visit the police station. She could wait until she was back at Jamie’s, but by the look of things that might not be for some time. She decided to head for the bar, where the queue to be served had diminished.

‘Sergeant MacDonald asked me to check if you had contact details for the medics who stayed here recently?’

The girl nodded. ‘The Norwegian policeman asked the same thing when he came back from Kilt Rock. They booked one night for the five of them all under one name. Pete Galbraith. He used his credit card. I gave Inspector Olsen the email used in the booking.’ She paused, a look of horror crossing her face. ‘You don’t think . . .?’

‘I think Sergeant MacDonald’s just concerned about them camping in this weather,’ Rhona reassured her. ‘Which room is Alvis in?’

‘First floor, room six.’

Rhona took off before any more questions might be posed regarding the identity of the victim. No doubt the islanders would be busy trying to work out who might have been found on the beach. What little had been released left room for speculation and Rhona didn’t want to add any more.

According to Lee, ‘News travels at the speed of light round the island. Speculation even faster.’