Simon Beckett - Written in Bone

‘Fraser! Wake up!’

There was no answer. If he’d stayed in the bar all night as I’d expected, trying to drown his guilt and grief over Duncan, there was no way I’d raise him.

Leaving him, I ran downstairs. I expected Ellen to have been woken by the commotion, but there was no sign of her. The wind tried to rip my coat from me as I rushed outside, struggling to fasten it over my arm. Further down the hill people were emerging from houses and banging on doors, their voices calling urgently to each other as they hurried towards the harbour.

As I passed the lane that ran behind the hotel, I noticed that Ellen’s old Beetle wasn’t there. I guessed she’d already gone to investigate the blaze, but there was no time to give it much thought. The glow in the sky was brighter now, shining on the rain-slick street. I thought it might be the ferry that was burning, but when I reached the quayside I saw it was still moored safely out on the jetty, caught in the dancing light from the shore.

The fire was in the boatyard.

Guthrie’s derelict fishing boat was ablaze. Its stern was already engulfed, the small wheelhouse on its deck burning fiercely. Flames were flowing over its half-timbered hull with a sinuous grace, hiding it behind fluid black smoke. Figures were scurrying about, snatching up buckets and yelling at each other over the din of the flames. Guthrie was bellowing frantic instructions, and I saw Kinross emerge from the workshop with a heavy fire extinguisher, hunching against the heat as he ventured as close to the flames as he could.

A hand fell on my shoulder. I turned and saw Brody, face jaundiced by the yellow light.

‘What happened?’ I asked.

‘No idea. Where’s Fraser?’

‘Guess.’

We broke off, coughing as a sudden shift in wind sent the smoke over us. The wind was shredding the flames into a wildly flapping sheet. It seemed like most of the village was there now, either watching helplessly or trying to fight the blaze. Buckets were being passed along a line, and a hose had been rolled out, its thin jet vanishing ineffectively into the flames. It was obvious they couldn’t save the boat, but the priority now was making sure the fire didn’t spread.

Across the yard, I caught a glimpse of Maggie’s distinctive red coat as she stood with a group of onlookers. Standing by himself, a little way from everyone else, was Cameron, his face hollowed and shadowed as he stared at the flames. I looked around for Ellen, but couldn’t pick out her face in the crowd. I’d assumed she’d come down to the harbour, but now I thought about it, it seemed odd that she hadn’t woken Fraser or me first.

Brody saw me looking round. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Have you seen Ellen?’

‘No, why?’

‘Her car had gone from the hotel. I thought she must have come down here.’

‘She wouldn’t have left Anna,’ Brody said, scanning the crowd. There was a note of anxiety in his voice.

Even now I can’t remember when I became aware of a sudden tension in the air. It was like a ripple of communal unease, spreading as quickly as the flames themselves. I looked back towards the boat, already feeling a dawning presentiment of disaster without knowing why. It was fully ablaze now, flames funneling into the gap formed by the missing hull timbers. And then the wind gusted, lifting the veil of smoke to reveal something moving inside.

Cocooned in fire, a human arm was slowly lifting, as though in salute.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Brody breathed.

Then, with a flurry of sparks, the deck collapsed and buried the awful sight from view.

Pandemonium broke out. People were crying and yelling instructions, shouting for someone to do something. But I knew better than anyone there that there was nothing anyone could do.

I felt a sudden grip on my shoulder, strong enough to hurt even through my coat. Brody was staring at me, his face etched with an unforgettable expression. He uttered just one word, but it was enough.

‘Ellen.’

Then he was barging people aside as he ran towards the burning boat.

‘Brody!’ I yelled, going after him.

I doubt he heard. Only when the flames beat him back did he stop. I grabbed hold of him, flinching from the heat. We were close enough for our coats to steam. If the boat collapsed now we’d be caught in it.

‘Come on, get back!’

‘She was moving!’

‘It was only a reflex! It was the fire, that’s all!’

He pulled away from me, staring into the flames as though trying to find a route into them. I grabbed him again.

‘Whoever it is, they’re dead! You can’t do anything!’

What we’d seen wasn’t a sign of life. If anything it was just the opposite, a blind, mechanical motion caused by the arm’s tendons contracting in the intense heat. There was no chance anyone could have survived the fire for this long.

The truth of what I was saying finally penetrated Brody’s frenzy. He allowed me to pull him away, stumbling like a man caught in a nightmare. What was left of the boat looked as though it could collapse any second. Shutting out thoughts of who the victim might be, I ran to where Kinross was still futilely spraying the fire extinguisher on to the flames. His face was savage and angry as he edged as close as he could. Nearby Guthrie’s meaty face was streaked with tears, either from the smoke or the sight of his dream going up in flames.

‘We need to get the body out!’

‘Get the fuck out of my way!’

I grabbed his arm. ‘You can’t put it out! Get some poles! Now!’

He wrenched free, and for a second I thought he might take a swing at me. Then he bellowed to the other men battling the fire, shouting for them to fetch scaffolding poles and long pieces of timber from the building supplies stacked nearby.

Feeling helpless, I could only stand with Brody and watch as they began using them to try to snag the body from the flames. Guthrie and another man skittered back as part of the fire collapsed, sending sparks gyrating crazily into the sky. There was no way the body would survive such rough handling unscathed, but there was no alternative. If it wasn’t recovered now, the fire would destroy any forensic evidence that might be left anyway.

More than that, though, it would have been unthinkable to simply wait until the fire had burned itself out.

Brody’s face was haggard. It can’t be Ellen, I told myself, feeling an awful hollowness. I tried to think of where she could be, of another reason for her car to be missing. But that only raised even worse questions. Dear God, what about Anna? Where’s she?

I knew I should go back to the hotel to see, but I was afraid of what I might find. Across the other side of the yard I caught a glimpse of Maggie’s bright red coat. Seeing her, I felt my anger start to rise. Whatever she’d kept from me earlier might not have been able to prevent this, but she’d hidden behind her profession for long enough.

Skirting the burning boat, I started across the yard, and as I did I almost bumped into someone coming the other way.

It was Ellen.

She was carrying Anna on one shoulder. The little girl was half asleep as she stared at the flames.

‘What happened?’ Ellen asked, staring past me to the fire.

Before I could answer Brody came running over.

‘Thank God you’re all right!’

He seemed about to hug her but stopped, suddenly embarrassed. Ellen was looking bewildered.

‘Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been at Rose Cassidy’s. Look, why are you both staring at me like that? What’s going on?’

‘You were at Maggie’s grandmother’s?’ I asked, recognizing the name. Something dark and unsettling began to twitch in my subconscious.

‘Aye, she had a fall, so one of her neighbours came to fetch me. Rose isn’t fond of Bruce Cameron,’ she added, wryly. A crease of concern appeared between her eyes. ‘Poor woman’s worried more than anything. Maggie went out earlier and hasn’t come back.’