Doug Johnstone - Smokeheads

‘Sure,’ said Roddy.

Adam patted Roddy on his good shoulder and gave him a furtive glance. Roddy smiled and pressed the button for more morphine, sinking further into his bed covers.

‘That is good shit,’ he said to himself as Adam headed out the door.

‘I believe you’ve been through quite an ordeal.’

Adam was back in the same beige room as before, facing a tall, muscular man with a square jaw and close-cropped hair. No uniform, but he’d shown Adam his ID, Detective Inspector Ritchie. The guy looked more like a bouncer than a copper, though was there really much difference?

‘Where’s Molly?’

The DI gave him a look. ‘Ms Gillespie is giving her version of events to my colleague.’

‘Version of events?’

‘Just routine,’ said Ritchie. ‘With any incident like this, we want to establish the chain of events, make sure we know exactly what happened.’

‘But it was just a car accident.’

Ritchie smiled, no warmth in it.

‘A car accident resulting in one fatality, one serious injury and one missing person, presumed dead.’

‘Presumed dead?’

‘You strike me as an intelligent man,’ said Ritchie. ‘If your friend has been in the water since the crash, he has very little chance of survival at this time of year.’

‘If?’

Ritchie stared at Adam. ‘Presuming you never saw him in the water, how do you know for sure that’s where he ended up?’

Adam’s mind raced. ‘We searched all over for him after the crash, didn’t find anything.’

‘Maybe he woke up first, went to get help but got into trouble.’

Adam frowned. ‘What kind of trouble?’

‘You tell me.’

Adam looked at Ritchie. ‘He wouldn’t have gone off without helping us first. He would’ve woken us. When I came round, Molly and Roddy were still in the car, they needed to be got out. He would’ve done that, not just wandered off.’

‘Maybe he was concussed and confused.’

‘He wouldn’t just wander off.’

‘Or maybe he got out of the car before it went over the cliff.’

‘What?’ Adam could feel himself getting flustered. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Maybe he realised you were heading over a cliff, and somehow got out before the car went over.’

Adam shook his head. ‘Then he would’ve gone for help, wouldn’t he?’

‘We just have to consider all the possibilities,’ said Ritchie. The DI was absent-mindedly staring out the grimy window. ‘You understand that, don’t you?’

‘Of course.’

Ritchie turned back. ‘So, tell me what happened in your own words.’

‘Doesn’t there have to be two of you present for a police interview?’ said Adam.

Ritchie smiled. ‘I think you’ve been watching too much Taggart, Mr Strachan. This isn’t a formal interview, just a little chat to establish what happened. There’s no need to be so defensive.’

‘I’m not being defensive,’ said Adam, his blood pumping faster.

‘So tell me what happened.’

‘We were driving back from Stremnishmore, and…’

‘What were you doing there?’

Adam took a moment. ‘Looking at the old distillery.’

‘Why?’

‘What does this have to do with anything?’

‘Context, Mr Strachan.’

‘Fine, I had plans to renovate it, get it working again.’

‘And?’

Adam stared at Ritchie. ‘I was trying to persuade Roddy to invest in the idea.’

‘I take it from your tone he said no.’

Adam nodded. ‘We were on our way back when a sheep came out of nowhere, and Roddy swerved to avoid it. Unfortunately we were right at the edge of the cliff, and went over.’

‘Mr Hunter was driving?’

‘Yes.’

‘Had he been drinking?’

‘What?’

‘It’s a simple question. Had Mr Hunter been drinking?’

Adam thought back to the hipflask Roddy was glugging from as he drove.

‘No,’ he said.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Pretty sure.’

‘Had he been taking any drugs?’

‘What’s this all about?’

Ritchie stared hard at Adam. ‘A blood sample taken from Mr Hunter during surgery reveals a high level of cocaine in his system.’

Adam felt the air buzz around him. ‘You’d have to take that up with Roddy.’

‘I’m asking you.’

‘And I’m telling you I don’t know anything about it. Look, we’ve been through a hell of a lot here, I don’t need you…’

Ritchie raised a placating hand. ‘Settle down, Mr Strachan, I’m only asking a few questions.’

Adam could feel his pulse in his forehead, thumping away. Without realising it, he pressed the button on his broken watch. Serenity now.

‘So,’ said Ritchie. ‘You’re a whisky expert.’

‘Not so much an expert,’ said Adam. ‘More an enthusiastic amateur.’

‘And you wanted to start a distillery.’

‘That was the plan.’

‘Had any previous experience of distilling?’

‘No.’

‘Not even a little moonshine set-up at home?’

Adam realised he was rubbing at his hands, picking under his fingernails. He made a conscious effort to stop.

‘That would be illegal.’

‘That’s a no, then?’

‘That’s a no.’

‘Do you know anything about illegal stills?’

‘Why would you ask something like that?’

Ritchie looked out the window. ‘Just chatting.’ He turned. ‘So, back to the crash. What happened next?’

Adam rubbed his forehead. ‘I woke first. I’d been thrown clear, landed further up the slope. I found Molly and Roddy in the car, got them both out. Then we went looking for the others. I found Ethan, his head was totally…’ He stopped to take a breath. ‘We took his body back to the car and waited there.’

‘See, this is what I don’t quite understand.’

‘What?’

‘You just sat there all night waiting by the car?’

‘That’s right.’

‘You didn’t think to go and get help?’

‘We couldn’t get back up the cliff.’

‘But you could’ve walked round the coast. Maybe found a way up.’

‘We didn’t think Roddy was up to it, he was pretty badly injured. And we didn’t want to just leave him.’

‘So you didn’t leave the scene of the accident at all?’

‘Except to search for Luke in the surrounding area, no.’

‘You didn’t head west along the coast for a few miles.’

‘I told you, no. What are you talking about?’

‘I’m surprised you haven’t heard from the local busybodies.’

‘Heard what?’

‘Your friend Ethan was not the only person to die on the Oa last night.’

‘What do you mean?’

Ritchie examined Adam closely. Adam felt his stomach clench and he struggled to swallow.

‘There was an incident a few miles along the coast.’

‘What kind of incident?’

‘Two bodies found in a burnt-out building.’

‘That’s terrible,’ said Adam, his voice sounding flat in his own ears.

‘It was an illegal still.’

Adam raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s what the whisky questions were about? You think I had something to do with that? Come on.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘No, but you’re bloody well implying it.’

Ritchie stared at him. ‘So you never came across an illegal still last night.’

‘I told you, we didn’t leave the car.’

Ritchie looked away. ‘I believe you were acquainted with the people we found in the still.’

Adam could hardly breathe. ‘I doubt it, I don’t really know anyone here. I’ve only been on the island for two days.’

‘They were police officers,’ said Ritchie. ‘Joe McInnes and Grant Nichol. You had an altercation with them in the Ardview Inn on Friday night.’