1/2 C. K.L.

  3/6 T. B.B.

  5/7 I. A.M.

  ‘Dates?’ Jo asked. ‘In which case…’

  ‘In which case they could be the dates people died.’

  Anna opened the calendar on her phone. ‘If that first date is the first of February, presumably this year, then it was a Saturday. The third of June was a Tuesday, and the fifth of July was a Saturday. Whose initials could they be? Do you remember the name of the boy who drowned?’

  Jo narrowed her eyes as she searched her memory. ‘Harry somebody, I think. I need to check.’

  ‘What about the woman who tripped and died from exposure?’

  ‘She was Eva or Emma. Something like that. I don’t know her surname.’

  ‘That doesn’t fit. And the lad who died in your brother’s car – he was Conor, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Conor Macfarlane,’ Jo said. ‘There’s a C, but that’s all.’

  ‘What date was the accident?’

  ‘The fourth of April,’ Jo said.

  Anna took her phone out and photographed the code. ‘Bag the notebook,’ she said to Jo. ‘The code might not be significant, but I want to understand it. We need to find the black book. What if the killer threw it in the sea?’

  ‘I had two of the lads check the shoreline, remember,’ Jo said. ‘We could look again, once the bodys’ away and officers are freed up.’

  The shoreline… Detritus.

  ‘Johnny Clark,’ Anna said.

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He was bagging litter. He had tongs and was combing the beach. It’s a long shot, but…’

  ‘Want me to go see him? I don’t mind going through his bin.’

  ‘We’ll go together,’ Anna said.

  She was going down the attic steps when Ellen’s phone rang. She darted for it and snatched up the receiver.

  ‘Hello?’ she said, eyes on Jo who stood by, alert.

  ‘Oh, hello there,’ a woman’s voice said. An oddly familiar voice. ‘Is that… Ms McIver?’

  ‘No,’ Anna said. ‘No, I’m afraid it isn’t. Who is this, please?’

  A pause. ‘I’d rather not say, but I do need to speak to Ms McIver.’

  Anna stared at the wall, unable to believe her ears. Unable to speak, even…

  ‘Hello?’ the voice pressed.

  ‘Lola?’ Anna said. ‘Is that you?’

  ‘Well, yes, that’s right, but…’ Anna’s old DCI said, sounding amazed herself now.

  ‘Lola, it’s Anna,’ she said. ‘It’s Anna Vaughan.’

  ‘Anna? Well, blow me,’ Lola said. She started to laugh, then stopped. ‘You’re at Ellen McIver’s place. That’s a worry.’

  ‘Ellen’s dead, Lola. I’m sorry.’

  A silence. ‘Jeezo, Anna…’ She sounded genuinely shocked. ‘When?’

  ‘Yesterday afternoon. Lola, did you know her?’

  ‘No. She was a client – well, very nearly a client, I should say. Can you tell me what happened?’

  Anna took a deep breath. ‘She was run over by a tractor, deliberately and more than once. Now, what can you tell me?’

  Lola took her time, gathering her thoughts, likely reeling from the shock.

  ‘Ellen McIver and I spoke on Tuesday,’ Lola said. ‘She’d called our main number and asked one of us to ring her.’ This was the private investigations company Lola now worked in, alongside her boyfriend Sandy. ‘Our secretary made a phone appointment, and I rang her back.’

  4 p.m. L.H. tel., Ellen had written on her kitchen calendar. Anna shook her head. It had never even occurred to her…

  ‘She told me she wanted some advice and that she might want to hire us to look into something.’

  ‘Did she say what?’ Anna’s skin tingled.

  ‘She did. She went on a bit… and, erm… I’m afraid I concluded she wasn’t in her right mind. Some of the things she said – frankly, they sounded downright paranoid.’ A pause and Anna could almost hear Lola wincing. ‘But now you tell me she’s been murdered…’

  ‘Lola, what did she say to you?’

  ‘In a nutshell, she told me she’d been investigating a number of local deaths, ones she was convinced were murder, though no one else suspected a thing. Oh, and that she knew, or suspected, who was responsible.’

  Anna could barely breathe. ‘Did she give you a name?’

  ‘No. I did ask her. She said she needed more evidence. Also, she didn’t know if she could trust me yet. She said she needed to know I’d take her seriously. I asked her if she’d told the police and she said the local police were useless, they were idiots, and she didn’t trust them. I asked her what evidence she was waiting for. She said she didn’t know where it was but hoped to very soon. I asked her who was murdered and how, and she became unpleasant. Accused me of grilling her, of not believing a word she said. I stressed the need to go to the police if she believed she had information about a crime. She stopped answering questions and said she needed time to think. Then she hung up on me. I chatted to Sandy after the call. He agreed with me. Without anything else to go on, there was nothing we could do. She was on my mind, though. I couldn’t stop thinking – what if she was right, or even partially. You know me when I get an idea stuck in my head. So I rang her yesterday afternoon, but no one answered.’

  ‘What time was that?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Give me a mo and I’ll check.’ A brief silence, then Lola said, ‘Three twenty-eight exactly,’ she said.

  So the withheld call at that time had been Lola…

  ‘That’s just about the time she was killed,’ Anna said.

  ‘Jeezo, Anna…’

  ‘So you tried to ring her again just now?’

  ‘That’s right. As I say, she was on my mind.’

  They were quiet for a moment.

  Lola said, ‘Want me to write down everything I remember and send you a note?’

  ‘That would be very helpful,’ Anna said.

  ‘I’ll do it right away,’ Lola said. ‘And if I can help in any other way – you know where I am, okay?’

  ‘Thanks, Lola,’ Anna said. ‘And… it’s really nice to talk to you.’

  Briefly, gabbling a bit, she explained to Jo what Lola had told her – and who Lola was.

  They left the cottage and Anna locked up.

  ‘I got a text while you were talking to her,’ Jo said. ‘Karen’s found Beth Howie, or rather the friend she’s on holiday with. The friend was in her hotel room, but she’ll find Beth for us. Karen didn’t tell the friend what it was about – just asked her to get Beth to phone one of us urgently.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Anna said. ‘Right, Slipway Cottage next?’

  But before Jo could answer, the air was rent by the revving engine of a souped-up car approaching fast from the west, from the direction of Kilberry. It was loud, like an old lawnmower, and growing louder by the second.

  They stood at Ellen’s garden gate and watched as a small yellow car appeared, careering chaotically towards them. There was a young lad at the wheel.

  He paid them no attention but slammed on his brakes then turned sharply into the road that zigzagged up the hill into the woods opposite.

  ‘Change of plan,’ Anna said to Jo and took out her car keys.

  15

  The noisy yellow car was silent now, parked down the side of the house Leo shared with his mother. Anna neatly wedged it in with her own car.

  Anna got out and went to ring the bell. She pressed it and received a volley of woofing in reply.

  Harriet opened the door, but only a crack. The barking stopped and a yellow Labrador’s head poked through the gap at thigh level.

  ‘We want to speak to Leo, please,’ Anna said. ‘Harriet, we know he’s here.’

  Harriet seemed to sag.

  ‘Now, please,’ Anna said, and had a hand on the door.

  Harriet relented and stood back, pulling the door wide. Anna let the dog nuzzle her hand for a second, then followed Harriet into the living room. Jo came after her.

  The lad was standing by the picture window in a Rangers top, arms folded across his bony chest, glaring in anticipation.

  ‘I didn’t do nothing,’ he snarled.

  ‘We just want to talk to you,’ Anna said. She looked at Harriet. ‘Can we sit down?’

  Harriet nodded miserably.

  Leo continued to stand, glaring with furious green eyes.

  ‘Sit down, Leo, please,’ Anna said.

  This time he gave in and threw himself into an armchair.

  ‘I’m DI Vaughan,’ she said to him, sitting herself in the corner of a settee. ‘This is DC McLean. You know what this is about,’ she went on. ‘Ellen McIver was found dead yesterday afternoon.’

  He shook his head and scowled.

  ‘Where were you between two and four yesterday?’

  ‘Here,’ he said. ‘With Mum.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Anna said. ‘Your mum was in the village shop just after three and you, Leo.’ She gave Harriet a severe look. ‘Yes, Harriet, we know you lied to us.’

  ‘Oh—’ Harriet’s hand went to her mouth.

  ‘And we also know,’ Anna said, eyes back on Leo, ‘you argued with Ellen McIver in Back Lane around the same time. You were seen, Leo.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Leo muttered. ‘The woman on the bike. Fuck!’

  Harriet let out a groan of misery.

  ‘No more lies,’ Anna said sharply, channelling the schoolmarm she knew she played well. ‘That goes for the pair of you. Now, can you start telling the truth?’

  She stared at Leo Maxwell until he caught her eye and, seeming cowed, sat forward, hunched, his head hanging and hands dangling between his bony knees.

  ‘Leo,’ Anna said after a long enough pause, ‘were you in Back Lane yesterday afternoon around 3 p.m.?’

  He gave a reluctant nod.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Did you see Ellen McIver there?’

  Another nod.

  ‘What happened?’ Anna asked. ‘Start to finish.’

  ‘I took Charlie down to the beach, didn’t I? That was all.’

  ‘What time was that?’

  He looked to his mum.

  ‘About two,’ Harriet whispered.

  ‘It’s the way we usually go,’ he said, defiant now. ‘Down the hill, over the road, down Back Lane then over the dunes, first out to the point where the rocks are – it’s sheltered and he likes to swim there – then back over the dunes to the beach. We go to the end of the beach and I throw stones in, then we head back the way we came. It’s an hour, or just over. I saw the old bag when I was coming back. Charlie was way up ahead and went running up to her. He does that to people. Friendly. Just saying hello, like. Only Ellen hates dogs, doesn’t she? Hated them, I mean. Started waving her arms about and shouting. I went running up, calling Charlie, except by then she’d got him all excited, thinking it’s a game! Stupid cow. I grabbed him and pulled him away and then she started on me: I should know better than to let a dangerous animal terrorise people like that, but she isn’t surprised because I’m so irresponsible anyway, and my mum should be ashamed of having raised me, and… and it’s no surprise to anyone my dad ran off.’

  He peered round at Harriet, who looked wracked, her eyes screwed shut.

  ‘So I told her a thing or two. Well, not really – you can never think what you really want to say, can you? I just called her a miserable old cow. Said no one liked her and she should mind her own business. Well, she didn’t like that. She was just about to start on me again, but then she changed her mind, or seemed to.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Just that. She decided I wasn’t worth it. Like she was too busy to waste her time on me any more.’

  ‘What made you think that, Leo?’

  He took a few seconds to think about it. ‘She didn’t say anything else,’ he said. ‘Just shook her head, like she had other stuff to do, other places to be. ’Cept there’s nowhere down Back Lane. She didn’t say another word. Just marched off. Weird, if you ask me. She was weird.’

  Anna digested the information. She believed him. His story fit with what Rosie Blake had told her.

  ‘You said that walk is the one you usually do with Charlie?’ she asked.

  He nodded.

  ‘Do you always go at the same time?’

  ‘Most days. I’ve got a job but it’s in the evenings so, yeah, I normally take Charlie down to the sea about two-ish.’ He turned to his mum, who nodded her agreement.

  ‘Did you often see Ellen in Back Lane?’

  ‘No, that was the first time. I seen her walking into the village along the road often enough. I never seen her down Back Lane. Never down on the dunes or nowhere like that.’ He frowned, as if pondering the significance, but not getting it.

  ‘What are you thinking, Leo?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Just… well…’ He squirmed as if the effort of thinking pained him. ‘If she never normally went down there, how did whoever kill her know she’d be going that way? Do you know what I mean?’

  ‘I do,’ Anna said. ‘It’s a good point.’

  ‘Almost like they were watching her,’ he said quietly. ‘Or like she was going to meet them.’

  ‘So Ellen set off down Back Lane towards the sea,’ Anna said. ‘What did you do next?’

  ‘Came home, didn’t I?’

  ‘Straight away?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Thank you, Leo.’ Then she said, almost casually, ‘You know how to drive a tractor, don’t you?’

  He froze, eyes wide. Harriet, shocked, looked fearfully from her son to Anna, then her top lip curled back. ‘He’s told you everything. Can’t you leave him alone now?’

  Anna ignored her and assessed Leo’s stricken expression.

  ‘Don’t you?’ she pressed, daring him to lie.

  He swallowed, his pronounced Adam’s apple rising and falling. ‘I drove one once,’ he said in a frightened whisper. ‘Only once.’

  ‘Baby—’ Harriet began, but Anna cut her off.

  ‘Please, let him answer.’

  ‘I got a job with Glen last summer,’ Leo said in a small voice. ‘Was only there a week. He let me ride it, but I drove it into his truck. He sacked me.’ He shrugged, as if he didn’t care. ‘So, yeah,’ he said defiantly, ‘I know how to drive one. I didn’t kill Ellen though. You can’t prove I did.’

  Anna glanced at Jo for her reaction. Jo was eyeing Leo hard, disliking or disbelieving him. One or both.

  Anna returned her gaze to Leo, assessing, trying to imagine this skinny lad at the controls of Glen Cameron’s monster of a tractor, standing on the accelerator as he approached Ellen McIver, as the huge front tyres caught then crushed her. Then stopping, making a tight turn in that narrow lane and returning to crush her again. She could see him doing it in anger, for sure. The person who’d run over and killed Ellen had then gone to her cottage and searched it, possibly ripping pages from a telephone memo pad, possibly finding and removing the black book, too… She couldn’t see Leo Maxwell doing that. Couldn’t see him wiping door handles free of prints.

  Besides, he’d had his dog Charlie with him. Where was Charlie while he was executing his crime? Tied up?

  ‘Do you believe me?’

  Anna thought before answering, going over her own impressions. ‘I do, as it happens,’ she said.

  Harriet let out a little gasp of relief and suddenly the atmosphere felt lighter, the air clearer. Leo seemed less tense, if not relaxed.

  ‘You need to give us your fingerprints,’ she said. ‘Today, at the police office in Lochgilphead. DC McLean here will arrange it with you.’

  He nodded miserably.

  ‘I didn’t do it,’ he said. ‘I didn’t, honest.’

  When they were back outside, having made Harriet give a new account of her own movements the previous afternoon, Anna led Jo away from the house so they wouldn’t be overheard.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked her.

  ‘I think I believe him,’ Jo said. ‘But where does that leave us? With Scott McKellar as suspect number one?’

  Jo’s phone buzzed with a text.

  ‘The private ambulance is ten minutes away,’ Jo said.

  Anna said, ‘You go meet them. I’ll go to Slipway Cottage and see Mr Clark, then see you back in the village.’

  Jo set off in her car. Anna had got into hers and was about to drive down the hill when her work phone began to buzz with a number she didn’t recognise. She killed the engine.

  ‘DI Anna Vaughan speaking,’ she said.

  ‘It’s Beth Howie,’ a wary voice said. ‘I know you’ve been trying to get hold of me. Is this about Auntie Ellen, by any chance?’

  ‘Thank you for calling, Ms Howie. May I call you Beth?’

  ‘Yes, fine.’

  ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘I’m in my hotel room. I’m in Aruba, in the Caribbean. Well, go on, then tell me what’s happened.’

  ‘It’s bad news, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, Beth, but your aunt is dead.’

  ‘Oh God.’ A pause while she took deep breaths. ‘I guessed as much. I mean, it’s never going to be good news when the police want to talk to you, is it?’ She gave a dark, ironic laugh. ‘They got her then, did they?’

  Anna frowned. ‘What do you mean, Beth?’

  ‘She said someone was after her. Someone was going to do her in. So what happened?’

  ‘We are treating your aunt’s death as suspicious, I’m afraid,’ Anna said. ‘She was run over and killed by… a vehicle that was abandoned quickly afterwards. We don’t know who was driving it.’

  ‘Jesus. Poor Auntie Ellen.’ She sounded winded.

  ‘Beth, can you tell me what your aunt said to you?’

  ‘I can try. I’m just going to go out on my balcony. Hang on.’ There was the sound of a door sliding open then closing. Anna heard the rasp of a cigarette lighter, then a deep inhalation. ‘I… I didn’t know whether to believe her,’ Beth said. ‘I mean, Auntie could talk a lot of nonsense. She’d get into a flap about things, start believing in conspiracies. But when she rang me on Wednesday night, I was worried. Shit. I shouldn’t have come away, should I? I should have gone down there to see what was really going on.’