‘I left and consulted my sergeant about what to do. We went to see Morag again. We interviewed a couple of her regulars, only no one had seen anything. There’s no CCTV out that way. No proof at all. So Morag said to leave it. She said Yorick – that’s the cat – was going to be okay. She’d keep an eye on him.’

  ‘Did Morag believe Ellen’s protests?’

  ‘You’d have to ask her that.’

  ‘Did you think Ellen was behind the mischief?’ Anna asked Sam.

  He hesitated before replying. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘In some ways it seems likely, in other ways, not likely at all… But then, who else could it be?’

  ‘Ellen McIver liked to police her neighbours,’ Anna said when it was just her and Jo a few minutes later. Sam had headed off home. ‘The rules were important to her and when authorities failed to enforce them, she tried herself. Why would someone like that carry out acts of unhinged mischief, including poisoning someone’s pet? Her challenge to Sam Stewart to find proof isn’t an admission of guilt.’

  Jo didn’t respond. Anna checked the time on her phone and saw it was just after midnight. Nick had called ten minutes ago but not left a message. She dropped it back in her jacket pocket.

  ‘Let’s talk about it tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I want to meet early to make a plan.’

  ‘We can use the village hall,’ Jo said. ‘Morag’s given me a key.’

  ‘Okay,’ Anna said. ‘Are the next shift due on at seven?’

  ‘That’s right. I was planning to be here at six-thirty to see if anything’s happened overnight then to make sure there’s a smooth handover.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll be here too,’ Anna said. ‘You’ve done a good job here, Jo. Now go get some sleep. The first full day of a murder enquiry is always a long one.’

  It was after one by the time Anna got to the cabin. Normally the sight of the bubblegum-pink wooden house, appearing in headlights at the end of the mile-long track from the road, would melt away all stress, but tonight the magic failed. She parked by the young apple tree, turned off the Volvo’s engine then sat for a minute, contemplating the house before the lights faded.

  She’d left Baldrishaig feeling relieved to be returning here, to be spending a night in her own bed among her own things, rather than in an anonymous B & B. But as she’d driven the seven miles north along Knapdale’s winding coast, she’d felt increasingly unsettled. It wasn’t helped by the boy racer who’d tailgated her halfway home, his little black car hugging her bumper and refusing to back off when she slowed. He’d finally ducked off down a lane, leaving her jangled. She’d driven the rest of the way wondering if she was cut out to lead an inquiry in such a place, where communities were scattered and geography itself presented a challenge. Literally all her policing experience had been in big cities: first London, for the Met, then for the past three years in Glasgow. She was the outsider here, and at a disadvantage.

  ‘They’ll be suspicious of you,’ her old boss, Lola Harris, had warned her gently when Anna told her she’d applied for the DI job in this rural division. ‘City cops move to the countryside, thinking they’ve seen and heard it all. Managed every type of situation. In fact, the local cops will have managed more than you ever have – and probably on their own. Plus, they have a skill you’ll take years to acquire: local knowledge. They know every community, all the families, all the history. Respect that, and you’ll get on fine.’

  She meant to. But she remained slightly uneasy at Jo’s coolness – or what she’d perceived as Jo’s coolness – when she’d admitted she owned a second home nearby. Yes, she knew it was problematic, but she wasn’t about to lie. She was fortunate. Privileged, even, and that was just a fact.

  The truth was, she was different to other cops – in terms of her background, at least. She was middle class – privately educated, too. That hadn’t been her choice. In fact, she’d rebelled against it. But after her mother’s death when Anna was twelve, her distracted maths professor father had insisted. ‘I can’t read you like your mother. I need to know you’re being looked after. Surely you understand that?’ She’d gone along with it, thanking God he wasn’t sending her to boarding school. She’d made the best of school, done well in her A levels, then broken the news to her dad that she was joining the police.

  ‘But…’ He’d stared for what seemed an age. ‘But you’re an academic.’

  ‘No, I’m not, Dad,’ she’d replied simply. ‘You can’t read me like Mum, remember?’

  She smiled, thinking of her fussy father, still working in his sixties, happy in his dusty study with his books and his theorems. She saw him once a year or so, not that he seemed to notice she was there even then.

  The car’s headlights faded to darkness and Anna experienced a sudden chill, sitting here, several metres from the front door, miles from anywhere and anyone. The cabin really was isolated, a mile from the road and farther still from the nearest other house. And yet it was its seclusion that had appealed to her – to Nick too. That and the beauty of its location: a sheltered cove with a view of Jura from its mouth. Their own patch of paradise.

  It didn’t feel that way tonight. It felt lonely. Eerie, even.

  Anna swallowed, steeled her nerves, and forced herself to get out and stand for a few moments more in the darkness. To smell the air, to listen to night creatures and the breeze rustling the trees. She reminded herself that no one ever came here, that few even knew the place existed. But still, her skin prickled. Because bad things did happen in beautiful places. She’d seen evidence of that herself this evening.

  ‘Get a grip,’ she muttered crossly, and marched across the scrubby yard to the front door, triggering a security light that bathed the yard, the car, the trees and bushes in white. She paused, key in hand, and glanced about, forcing herself to confront her own paranoia.

  Inside she put on the hallway light, then returned to the car to ferry in her night bag and the shopping she’d brought. She locked the car then closed the cabin door and locked that too, then she took the case to the bedroom and the bags of shopping to the little kitchen and dumped them on the counter. Then she checked her phone, now connected to the WiFi.

  Nick had texted her while she’d been driving, saying he was going to bed and asking her to wish him luck for the morning. She replied briefly now, telling him he’d be fine, but that she’d be with him in spirit. The message said it had been delivered. She watched it for a few seconds, but there was no notification to say he’d read it. Fine. She put the phone down and set about organising herself.

  She made peppermint tea and finally settled into her corner of the settee to spend a calm ten minutes with a notepad and her thoughts before going to bed. She looked over the photographs she’d taken in Ellen McIver’s home, including of the attic and the telephone pad from the hallway, which had had several leaves ripped from it at once…

  Looking at the images of the neat little house, of her cramped but methodical notes in the birding book and remembering Sam’s stories about her near obsessive desire to ensure her neighbours abided by rules, Anna was struck afresh by the violence of her death. ‘A suspicious death’ it would remain officially, until the post-mortem and forensic report confirmed otherwise, but Anna knew this was murder. Whoever had done it hadn’t just wanted Ellen dead, they’d wanted to destroy her, to make a visceral mess of a neat and tidy – but spiteful – woman who’d lived by the rules.

  By the time her tea mug was drained, she’d made two pages of notes, drawing asterisks next to items she wanted to action as priority in the morning.

  Ellen McIver was the starting point, of course. The person she was, what she’d valued, what she’d known. What had made her dangerous. Anna needed to ask people about her and listen carefully to their answers – including to what they didn’t say, to the silences in between. She’d look for patterns and then she’d begin to fit the pieces together.

  It was two before she got to bed. She lay in darkness, the window locked open an inch, missing Nick and all too aware of the miles of woods and fields around her and, stretching out to the west, the dark islands and the endlessly shifting sea.

  6

  FRIDAY, 18 JULY

  They met at the village hall at 6.30 a.m. as planned. Anna was still buzzing from an early-morning dip, having spent ten minutes swimming two lengths of the cove, turning back only when she reached its mouth and the water darkened beneath her.

  Jo seemed bright and ready too. She’d already been to the crime scene and chatted to the officers guarding it.

  ‘Nothing to report,’ she told Anna. ‘No one came by. Oh, and it didn’t rain either. The next shift should be here in fifteen or twenty minutes.’

  Morag Robertson, landlady of the Baldrishaig Inn and owner of the shop and tearoom, had taken pity on them and come along to start the coffee machine.

  ‘It’s old but it works beautifully,’ she told them, beaming. She was a merry fifty-something, with dyed blonde hair tied back. Her jumper had an Alsatian’s head on it, its jaws parted in a grin and its tongue lolling. ‘I’ve a grill in the back if you fancy a roll and bacon. I could fry an egg too, if you’d like.’

  ‘That’d be amazing,’ Anna said. She turned to Jo, whose eyes were popping at the prospect.

  Morag left with their orders, closing the connecting door behind her. Anna could hear her clattering about and made a mental note to talk quietly for risk of being overheard.

  She surveyed the little meeting room. It was maybe four metres on each side. There were chairs piled in one corner and folding tables stacked against the wall beside them.

  ‘Let’s put a couple of these out,’ Anna said, and Jo joined her in making a workspace, but one they could use for interviews too.

  ‘You get back okay last night?’ Jo asked her as they worked.

  ‘Eventually,’ Anna said breezily. ‘Some nutter tailgated me halfway home. I expect you get a lot of that.’

  ‘Kids, you mean?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I couldn’t see who was driving. Some lad high on testosterone, I expect. He turned off after Kilberry.’

  ‘You’re just past Deer Point, aren’t you?’ Jo asked, head slightly on one side.

  ‘Am I?’ Anna said, eyeballing her, an eyebrow raised.

  ‘The pink house – the one that couple built but then their daughter got ill so they moved back to London.’

  ‘That’s right. How did you know?’ she managed to ask steadily.

  ‘Word gets about.’

  ‘Clearly.’

  Jo gave a small shrug and an awkward smile. Anna unfolded another couple of chairs and shoved them firmly under the table, unsure whether she felt annoyed or impressed.

  ‘What about you?’ she asked, determined to keep things light. ‘Get home okay?’

  Jo nodded. ‘I’m only in Tarbert, so…’

  ‘Lived there long?’

  ‘All my life. Probably stay there too. It suits me. Work’s only a hop up the road and Ali works locally, so…’

  ‘Ali?’

  ‘My girlfriend. Another local. In fact, we were in the same class at school, if you can believe it.’ She grinned.

  ‘And what does Ali do?’

  ‘She’s a nurse at the surgery. She worked in Glasgow before. She says it’s weird seeing your neighbours day in day out. A woman in the Co-op showed her a wound the other day. There’s no getting away. What about you? You’re married, aren’t you?’

  Anna nodded. ‘Nick’s a solicitor.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be too impressed. It’s all boring corporate finance stuff, though he seems to like it.’

  There was a rap at the connecting door.

  Anna went to open it and Morag bustled in, beaming, carrying a tray with bacon rolls on paper plates and steaming coffee in mugs. ‘Both rolls are the same, and I’ve put out a few sachets of sauces. Where do you want it?’

  ‘Anywhere,’ Anna said. ‘Thanks so much. What do we owe you?’

  ‘It’s three-fifty each, please. But no hurry. In fact, why don’t I just start a tab for you?’ Morag placed the tray neatly on the table. She turned and surveyed the two detectives. ‘Now, you’ll be wanting to talk to me I expect, because I saw Ellen yesterday morning.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Anna said. ‘Why not sit down for a moment?’ It was tempting to reach for one of the rolls, but she pushed the tray aside for the time being, taking a mug of coffee.

  Morag pulled out a chair and sat down.

  ‘Tell us about the call from Ellen’s niece, Beth,’ Anna said.

  ‘She called at the pub,’ Morag said. ‘It was earlyish. Eight-thirty, maybe. Bill answered but she asked to talk to me. “I’m worried about Auntie Ellen,” she said. “Would you mind going and checking on her? I’d drive over myself, only I’m supposed to be going on holiday today.” I said, “What’s the matter?” She said, “Auntie’s always been weird, as you know, but last night she rang me, saying she was worried someone might do for her.”’

  ‘“Do for her”?’ Anna said, eyes wide.

  ‘That’s right. As in, bump her off. Beth said she’d tried calling that morning, but Ellen wasn’t picking up. Well…’ Morag made a face. ‘I wasn’t thrilled to be asked. I had no time for Ellen McIver, but still, I could hear the young woman was worried. I was straight with her. I said, “Beth, you know your auntie. She picks fights. She’s picked a couple with me. And you know how she was about my poor cat.” But all the same, I didn’t want her to worry, so said I’d go over. “But I won’t go alone,” I said. “For one thing, she might not give me the time of day.” Beth said she’d be very grateful, and could I ring her back and let her know? I said, yes, fine, and she gave me a mobile number.

  ‘So I rang Carol. That’s Carol Baillie. She’s Ellen’s nearest neighbour, across the road and up the hill. They did get on but they’ve rowed since. Still, I reckoned the two of us might have had more luck – and I’d thought of a wee ruse.’

  ‘Oh?’ Anna said.

  ‘I knew Ellen’s car was in the garage. She’d run it into a tree, and a coil spring was gone – that’s what she told Bill, anyway. She had some story about someone running her off the road, though she hadn’t seen who it was. Anyway, she’d taken it in on Tuesday and hadn’t got it back yet. I thought we could offer to get her some shopping in. Carol agreed it might work. So I drove along and met Carol outside Ellen’s and we went and knocked. Ellen took her time, but she came to the door. Looked less than pleased to see us, I can tell you. “We wondered if you needed any shopping while your car’s out of service,” I said, nice as pie. “I’m fine,” Ellen said. No thank you or anything. “How are you getting on?” I asked, and I sort of pushed my way into the hallway. Ellen took a step back. Not happy at all. “Keeping all right, are you?” I said. “Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied. She did not want us there, I can tell you. Face tripping her. “I’m perfectly well, as you can see,” she said. “And anyway, I’m planning to walk into the village for some shopping later this morning, so I don’t need your help.” All sniffy, like. “In that case, we’ll be off, won’t we, Carol?” I said. So that was us. I gave Carol a lift back up the hill to her place. It’s fine coming down, but awful steep going up.’

  ‘Did you phone Beth back to tell her?’

  ‘I did. I said, “I wouldn’t worry, love. You go on your holiday and don’t give the mad old bat another thought”. I didn’t call her that to Beth, but it’s what I was thinking.’ She bit her lip, possibly feeling a twinge of shame.

  ‘We’ve been trying to reach Beth,’ Anna said, ‘but we’re having trouble. Did she tell you where she was going?’

  Morag thought about it. ‘She was flying off somewhere. I don’t think she said where to.’

  ‘Can you remember exactly what she said Ellen had told her?’

  ‘Only what I’ve told you,’ Morag said. ‘That she thought someone was going to “do for her”. Sorry. I’m sure you’ll get hold of her before long, if you keep trying.’

  Anna thought for a minute. ‘You went inside Ellen’s hallway?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you happen to see a notepad on the table, by the phone? A cream one.’

  Morag frowned. ‘I did, as it happens. With writing on it.’

  ‘Writing?’ Anna felt her shoulders tense and willed herself to relax.

  Morag concentrated on the table before her now, blinking fast. ‘Phone numbers,’ she said. ‘Names and numbers. A whole list. I remember thinking to myself, who’s she badgering now?’

  ‘Do you remember any of the names, Morag? This could be important.’

  Morag’s eyes widened as she understood. ‘You mean, they’re not there now?’

  ‘No,’ Anna said, not seeing any reason to obfuscate. ‘The top pages have been removed.’

  ‘My goodness,’ Morag said, then paused to think. ‘Erm. Let me think. Yes, there were lots of numbers. Glasgow ones, I think. Starting with 0141. Certainly not mobile numbers. Maybe other dialling codes too. I’m sorry. It never occurred to me to take a proper look.’

  ‘It’s okay. Did Ellen see you looking?’

  ‘I’m not sure. She was flapping a bit. I remember she pulled the door to the living room shut, as if she didn’t want us seeing in there.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘Did I what – see in there?’ Morag shrugged. ‘Just a glimpse. Why?’

  ‘Was there anyone in there?’

  ‘Oh, I see what you mean! No. Well, maybe. It’s tiny. If there was, then they must have been hiding.’