Simon Beckett - Written in Bone

‘Confused. How did I get here?’

‘Michael brought you back last night. He found you on the mountain. Or, rather, you found him.’

So it had been Strachan who’d rescued me. I remembered the figure emerging into the firelight. ‘That was your husband I saw out there?’

She gave a smile. ‘One of his little hobbies, I’m afraid. I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks it’s odd. Still, good job for you he was.’

I couldn’t argue with that, but I was still worrying about how long I’d been asleep. ‘What time is it?’

‘Nearly half past three.’

The day was more than half gone. I cursed, silently. ‘Can I use your phone? I need to let people know what’s happened.’

‘Already done. Michael called the hotel after he brought you back and spoke to Sergeant Fraser, I think it was. He told him you’d had an accident but that you were more or less in one piece.’

That was something, I supposed. But I still needed to get hold of Wallace. And Jenny, to let her know I was all right.

If she was still speaking to me.

‘I’d still like to use the phone, if that’s OK.’

‘Of course. I’ll let Michael know you’re awake. He can bring it up with him.’ Grace arched an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. ‘I’ll tell him to bring your clothes, as well.’

With that she went out. I lay in bed impatiently, chafed by the thought of the lost hours. But I didn’t have to wait long before there was a rap on the door.

Michael Strachan came in, carrying my neatly washed and pressed clothes. My wallet, watch and useless mobile were stacked neatly on top of them. He also had a newspaper tucked under one arm, but he kept hold of that.

‘Grace said you might be needing these,’ he said, grinning as he set my things on a chair by the bed. He reached into his pocket and took out a cordless phone. ‘And this, too.’

I wanted to make the calls straight away, but restrained myself. If not for this man I’d probably be dead. ‘Thanks. And thank you for what you did last night.’

‘Forget it. I was glad to help. Although I must admit you scared me half to death when you suddenly appeared like that.’

‘It was mutual,’ I said, dryly. ‘How did you get me back?’

He shrugged. ‘I managed to prop you upright most of the way down, but for the last leg I’m afraid it was a fireman’s lift.’

‘You carried me?’

‘Only as far as the car. I don’t always take it, but I was glad I had, believe me.’ He said it dismissively, as if carrying a grown man even a short distance was nothing. ‘So how’s the shoulder now?’

I flexed it warily. It was still painful, but at least I could move it without passing out. ‘Better than it was.’

‘Bruce had the devil of a job popping it back. If not for him, we’d probably have had you airlifted to a hospital. Or stuck you on Iain Kinross’s ferry, and I don’t think you’d have enjoyed a sea voyage in the state you were in.’

‘Bruce…?’

‘Bruce Cameron. He’s the schoolteacher, but he’s also a trained nurse. Looks after the medical clinic.’

‘Sounds like a useful combination.’

A look I couldn’t quite read crossed his face. ‘He has his moments. You’ll meet him in a while yourself. Grace called him to say you were awake, so he offered to come out to see how you were. Oh, and your colleagues found Ellen’s car this morning and got it back on the road. It isn’t damaged, you’ll be glad to hear. What happened? Swerve to miss a sheep?’

‘Not a sheep, no. A golden retriever.’

Strachan’s face fell. ‘Oscar? Oh, Christ, you’re joking! I’d taken him out with me, but he’d wandered off. God, I’m really sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I didn’t hit him.’ Curiosity temporarily got the better of my impatience. ‘Look, don’t think I’m not grateful, but…what the hell were you doing up there?’

He smiled, a little shamefaced. ‘I camp there every now and then. Grace thinks I’m mad, but when I was a kid back in South Africa my father used to take me out on safari. You get the same sense of space and isolation on the mountain that I remember from that. I’m not religious or anything, but there’s something…almost spiritual about it.’

This was a side of Strachan I wouldn’t have suspected. ‘Pretty lonely, though. And cold.’

He grinned. ‘I wrap up, and the solitude’s all part of it. Besides, the broch’s a good place to think.’

‘Broch?’

‘The stone hut I was in. It’s an old watchtower. I love the idea that someone would have been sitting up there by a fire two thousand years ago. I like to think I’m keeping the tradition. And those cairns are even older. The people buried in them would have been lords or clan leaders, and now all that’s left is a few piles of stone. Puts things in perspective, don’t you think?’

Abruptly, he grew embarrassed.

‘Anyhow, so much for my dark secrets. Here, I brought you this.’

He handed me the newspaper he’d brought with him. It was the previous evening’s Lewis Gazette, folded open on the second page. A headline over Maggie Cassidy’s byline announced Fire Death Mystery on Runa. The story gave a lurid account of the discovery of the burned body, light on facts but heavy on speculation. Predictably, she’d made reference to spontaneous human combustion, and I was referred to as ‘esteemed forensic scientist Dr David Hunter.’

It could have been worse, I supposed. At least there were no photographs.

‘It came over on this morning’s ferry,’ Strachan said. ‘I thought you’d want to see it.’

‘Thanks.’ But the article had rekindled my sense of urgency. ‘I hate to ask after all you’ve done, but could you give me a lift back to the village?’

‘Of course.’ He paused. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Fine. I just need to get back.’

He nodded, but I don’t think he was convinced. ‘I’ll be downstairs. Help yourself to the shower.’

I waited until he’d gone, then grabbed the phone. Wallace’s number was logged in my mobile. I retrieved it and called it on the landline. Come on, answer, I urged him silently.

This time he did. ‘Yes, Dr Hunter?’ he said, with the air of someone with better things to do.

I kept it short. ‘She was murdered.’

There was a beat while that registered. Then he swore. ‘You’re certain?’

‘She’d been hit hard enough for the back of her skull to be cracked but not broken. The fire made it blow out at that point, which is why I didn’t spot it sooner.’

‘Could she have done it in a fall? Panicking when she caught fire, perhaps?’

‘A fall could have caused it, but an injury like that would have either killed her outright or at the very least left her unconscious. She wouldn’t have been capable of moving afterwards. In which case the body would still be lying on its back, not face down like hers is.’

I heard him sigh. ‘There’s no way you could have made a mistake?’

I took a moment to reply, not trusting my temper. ‘You wanted my opinion, you’ve got it. Somebody killed her and then set fire to the body. This was no accident.’

There was a pause. I could almost hear him thinking through the logistics of pulling teams away from the train crash and getting them out here.

‘All right,’ he said, all business now, ‘I’ll have a support team and SOC out with you first thing tomorrow morning.’

I glanced out of the window. The light was already fading. ‘Can’t they be here sooner?’

‘Not a chance. They’ll have to get out to Stornoway first, then go from there to Runa. That’s going to take time. You’ll just have to sit tight until tomorrow.’