Simon Beckett - Written in Bone

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…’

‘Shh. Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.’

Fraser and Brody were struggling to right the heavy table. I went to the kitchen’s window, hoping it hadn’t been painted shut. Even a little ventilation would be better than nothing. But I’d only taken a few steps when I saw Strachan grope for something lying in the broken crockery nearby.

‘Get away from there, David,’ he said, holding it up.

It was the lighter for the gas range.

He had his thumb poised on the ignition button. ‘Sorry, but I’m not going anywhere…’

‘Put it down, Michael,’ I said, trying for an assurance I didn’t feel. There was so much gas in the kitchen that one spark would set it off. I glanced uneasily at the portable heater that lay nearby. It had its own propane supply, and the cage containing the big cylinders was stored right against the kitchen wall. If the gas in here ignited they would all go up.

‘I don’t think so…’ Strachan’s pallid face shone with sweat. ‘Go on, get out. All of you.’

‘Don’t be bloody stupid,’ Brody snapped.

Strachan raised the lighter. ‘One more word from you, and I swear I’ll press it right now.’

‘For fuck’s sake, Brody, shut up!’ Fraser said.

Strachan gave a death’s head grin. ‘Good advice. I’m going to count to ten. One…’

‘What about Grace?’ I said, stalling for time.

‘Grace and I stay together. Don’t we, Grace?’

She was blinking through her tears, as though only now becoming aware of what was going on.

‘Michael, what are you going to do…?’

He smiled at her. ‘Trust me.’

Then, before anyone could stop him, Strachan wrenched the knife from his stomach.

He screamed, seizing Grace’s arm as blood gushed from the wound. I started forward, but he saw me and raised the lighter.

‘Get out! Now!’ he hissed through clenched teeth. ‘Oh, Jesus!’

‘Strachan-’

Brody grabbed hold of me. ‘Move.’

Fraser was already running for the door. I took one last look at where Strachan lay, teeth gritted in agony as he held the lighter raised in one hand and gripped his sister’s hand with the other. Grace’s expression was one of dawning incredulity. She looked across at me, her mouth opening to speak, and then Brody had hustled me out into the hall.

‘No, wait-’

‘Just run!’ he bellowed, giving me a shove.

He kept hold of me as he pounded down the hallway, half dragging me outside. Fraser had reached the Range Rover and was fumbling for the keys.

‘Leave it!’ Brody snapped, without stopping.

The nearest houses were too far away to reach, but there was an old stone wall much nearer. Brody dragged me behind it, Fraser throwing himself down beside us a moment later. We waited, panting.

Nothing happened.

I looked back at the hotel. It seemed familiar and mundane in the twilight, its front door banging forlornly in the wind.

‘Been more than ten seconds,’ Fraser muttered.

I stood up.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Brody demanded.

I shook him off. ‘I’m going to-’ I began, and then the hotel exploded.

There was a flash, and a wall of noise almost knocked me off my feet. I ducked, covering my head as pieces of slate and brick rained down. As the thuds began to peter out, I risked a look back up the hill.

Dust and smoke swirled around the hotel like a gauze veil. Its roof had been blown off, and bright yellow flickers were already visible inside the shattered windows, quickly spreading as the fire took hold.

People were running out of the nearby houses as the hotel began to blaze. I could feel the intensity of the heat even from where I stood.

I turned on Brody angrily. ‘I could have stopped him!’

‘No, you couldn’t,’ he said, tiredly. ‘And even if you could, he was a dead man as soon as he pulled out the knife.’

I looked away, knowing he was right. The hotel was an inferno now, its timbered floors and walls reduced to so much kindling. Like everything else that had been inside.

‘What about Grace?’ I asked.

Brody’s face was shadowed as he stared into the flames.

‘What about her?’

TWO DAYS LATER, the sky dawned bright and clear over Runa. It was approaching midday when Brody and I left his car on the road above the harbour and walked up to the cliff top overlooking Stac Ross. Seabirds soared around the tall black tower, while waves shattered against the rock’s base, flinging slow-motion sheets of spray high into the air. I breathed in the fresh salt air, savouring the thin warmth of the sun on my face.

I was going home.

The police had arrived on Runa the previous morning. As though finally sated with the chaos it had overseen, the storm had blown itself out within hours after the hotel had burned down. Before the night was out, while the hotel ruins still smoked and smouldered, the phone lines had started working again. We’d finally been able to get word to Wallace and the mainland. Although the harbour was still too rough to allow anything in or out, the sky was still lightening when a coastguard helicopter clattered above the cliffs, carrying the first of the police teams that would descend on Runa in the next twenty-four hours.

As the island found itself at the epicentre of frenzied police activity, I’d finally got a call through to Jenny. It had been a difficult conversation, but I’d reassured her that I was all right, promised I would be home in another day or so. Even though the island was swarming with police and SOC, I couldn’t leave straight away. Not only were there the inevitable interviews and debriefings to endure, but I still felt there was unfinished business. It would take days or perhaps even weeks to recover the bodies of Strachan, Grace and Cameron from the ruins of the hotel, assuming anything identifiable had survived its destruction. But there had still been Maggie’s and Duncan’s remains to attend to, and I wanted to be on hand while SOC examined them.

It wouldn’t seem right to leave without see things through to the end.

And now I had. Maggie’s body had been taken back to the mainland the evening before, while Duncan’s remains had been removed from the camper van in the early hours. So had his Maglite, bagged up ready for laboratory analysis. Not only was it the right shape to have made the injury to his skull, but SOC had found what appeared to be traces of blood and tissue baked on to its casing. It would have to be tested to make sure, but I was more convinced than ever that Grace had used his own torch to kill him.

I’d done as much as I could. There was no reason for me to remain on Runa any longer. I’d said what few goodbyes I had to make; shared an awkward handshake with Fraser, then called to see Ellen and Anna. They were staying at a neighbour’s house for the time being, bearing up surprisingly well after what they’d been through.

‘The hotel was only bricks and mortar. And Michael…’ There were shadows in Ellen’s eyes as she watched Anna play nearby. ‘I’m sorry he’s dead. But I’m more thankful for what was saved than what was lost.’

Another coastguard helicopter was due within the hour, and once it had discharged its cargo of police officers it would take me back to Stornoway. From there I’d fly to Glasgow and then London, finally completing the journey I’d started a week ago.

Not before time.

Still, I didn’t feel as elated as I’d expected. Even though I was looking forward to seeing Jenny, I felt oddly flat as Brody and I walked up to the cliff where the helicopter would put down. Brody, too, was silent and lost in his thoughts. Although I’d been sleeping in his spare room, I’d not seen much of him since the mainland police teams had arrived. Ex-inspector or not, he was a civilian now, and he’d been politely excluded from the investigation. I felt sorry for him. After all that had happened, it must have been hard for him to be brushed on to the sidelines.