Simon Beckett - Written in Bone

The rest of us were more cautious, holding on to the gangplank’s railing as it tipped and swayed. It was barely any better once we were on board, the slippery deck pitching unpredictably. I looked up at the ferry’s aerial, bent and quivering in the wind, then at the cliffs surrounding us. I could see now what Kinross meant. They hemmed the small harbour in on three sides, rising up like a wall between us and the mainland.

Kinross was already fiddling with the radio set when we crammed into the claustrophobic bridge. I braced myself against the wall as the deck pitched queasily underfoot. A medley of discordant hums and squeaks came from the radio set as Kinross spoke into its handset, then waited vainly for a response.

‘Who are you calling?’ Brody asked.

Kinross answered without turning round. “Coastguard. They’ve got the biggest radio mast on Lewis. If they can’t hear us no one else will.’

We waited as he spoke into the handset, receiving only a hollow hissing in return.

Fraser had been watching the ferry captain with an expression of sullen dislike. ‘You remember bringing any strangers across on the ferry about four or five weeks ago?’ he asked suddenly.

Brody gave him an angry look, but he took no notice. Kinross didn’t turn round.

‘No.’

‘No what? No you didn’t bring anyone, or no you don’t remember?’

Kinross stopped what he was doing and turned to stare at him. ‘This to do with the murder?’

‘Just answer the question.’

Kinross’s smile threatened violence. ‘And if I don’t?’

Brody cut in before Fraser could respond. ‘Take it easy, Iain, no one’s accusing you of anything. We just came out here to use the radio.’

Deliberately, Kinross lowered the handset. He leaned back against the swaying bulkhead, folding his arms as he regarded us.

‘Are you going to tell me what this is about?’

‘It’s police business,’ Fraser growled.

‘Aye, and this is my ferry, and my radio. You want to use it, you can tell me what’s so urgent.’

‘We can’t yet, Iain,’ Brody interposed, smoothly. ‘But it’s important. Trust me on that.’

‘This is our island. We’ve a right to know what’s going on.’

‘I know, and you will, I promise.’

‘When?’

Brody sighed. ‘Tonight. But right now we need to contact the mainland.’

‘Now listen-’ Fraser began, but Brody spoke over him.

‘You’ve got my word.’

Kinross stared at him, his expression giving nothing away. Then he got up and headed for the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Brody asked.

‘You wanted me to try the radio, I have.’

‘Can’t you keep trying?’

‘No. Anyone could hear, we’d know by now.’

‘What about other ships? Someone could relay a message back to the mainland for us. The cliffs wouldn’t block that.’

‘Maybe not, but they’re still going to funnel the signal, and the set’s range is only thirty miles. You want to waste your time pissing in the wind, that’s up to you, but you can do it by yourselves.’ He indicated the handset. ‘Press the switch to talk, let go to receive. And switch it off when you’ve finished.’

With that he walked out. As the door banged shut behind him. Fraser turned on Brody, angrily.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’ve no authority to tell them anything!’

‘We don’t have any choice. We need these people’s help. You’re not going to get it by yelling.’

Fraser’s face was crimson. ‘One of those bastards killed Duncan!’

‘Aye, and antagonising everyone’s not going to find out who did it.’ Brody stopped, restraining himself. He took a deep breath. ‘Kinross is right. There’s no point wasting any more time here when Strachan’s yacht has a satellite comms system. We can call into the school on the way and see if Grace is there.’

‘And if she’s not?’ Fraser demanded, truculently.

‘Then we’ll wait at the house until one of them gets home,’ Brody grated, clearly not happy himself at having to ask anything of Strachan. ‘Unless you’ve any better ideas?’

Fraser hadn’t. We drove up through the village from the harbour, but when we reached the school Grace’s black Porsche wasn’t outside. The small building was unlit and empty.

‘They must have sent the kids home early because of the power cut. We probably missed her when we detoured to see Kinross,’ Brody said, his frustration evident.

There was nothing to do but head for Strachan’s house and hope she was there. Fraser drove in moody silence. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He wasn’t an easy man to like, but Duncan’s death had hit him hard. And he’d been out of his depth even before his colleague was murdered.

We were approaching the big house when the sergeant suddenly tensed.

‘What the hell’s he doing?’

Strachan’s Saab was tearing down the road directly towards us. Fraser swore and swerved into the side, stamping on the brake as the Saab skidded to a halt just a few feet away.

‘Bloody idiot!’ Fraser cursed.

Strachan had jumped out and was running towards us, not even bothering to close his car door. Fraser angrily wound down the window and yelled at him.

‘What the hell are you playing at?’

Strachan didn’t seem to hear. His face was shockingly pale, his eyes wide and scared as he bent to the open window.

‘Grace is missing!’ he gasped.

‘What do you mean, missing?’ Fraser demanded.

‘I mean she’s missing! She’s gone!’

Brody had climbed out of the Range Rover. ‘Slow down and tell us what’s happened.’

‘I’ve told you! Christ, are you all bloody deaf? We have to find her!’

‘We will, but you’re going to have to calm down and tell us what you know.’

Strachan made an effort to compose himself. ‘I got back a few minutes ago. Grace’s car was here, and there were lights on and music playing, so I thought she was in the house. She’d left a cup of coffee going cold in the kitchen, but when I called she didn’t answer. I looked in every room, but there’s no sign of her!’

‘Couldn’t she have gone for a walk?’ Fraser asked.

‘Grace? In this weather? Look, why are we just standing here, we’ve got to do something!’

Brody turned to Fraser, automatically assuming command. ‘We need to organize a search. Go back to the village and bring as many people back as you can.’

‘What about you?’ Fraser asked, not liking being told what to do.

‘I’m going to go up to the house and take a look.’

‘I’ve told you, she isn’t there!’ Strachan almost yelled.

‘We’ll take another look anyway. Dr Hunter, do you want to come with me?’

I’d been about to suggest it anyway. If Grace was hurt I’d be more use here than rounding up a search party in the village. We hurried over to the Saab as Fraser drove off in the Range Rover.

‘What do you think?’ I asked Brody, in a low voice.

He just shook his head, his expression grim.

Strachan had left the Saab’s engine running. He barely waited for us to get in before he set off, reversing back up the road and up the driveway before screeching to a halt next to Grace’s black Porsche SUV. Without waiting to see if we followed, he ran into the house shouting his wife’s name. The only response was frenzied barking from the dog in the kitchen.

‘See, she’s not here!’ he said, pushing his hand through his hair distractedly. ‘And Oscar was running around outside when I got back. If Grace had gone anywhere she wouldn’t have just left him outside like that!’

There was a knot of tension in my gut as I heard the catch in his voice. I knew what he was going through. I’d once gone to Jenny’s house and found the same terrible absence myself. There had been a killer loose then as well, and being here now, seeing the fear in Strachan’s eyes, gave me a terrible sense of deja vu.