Кит Мори - Deadly Still

‘Is your daughter going to be all right, Charlie?’ Esther asked as he got out and crossed to her. ‘I’ve been worried about her since you rang me.’

‘She’s on her way to the Western Isles Hospital in Stornoway. Dr McLelland is sure she’ll be OK, but he’s still worried about her sight.’

Charlie’s arms went around her waist and she snaked her arms about his neck and drew him to her as their lips met in a passionate kiss.

‘Christ, are you sure you want to,’ she muttered in his ear a few moments later as he ran his hands under her cashmere jumper, while she started to undo his belt.

‘I bloody need it, Esther. Especially after the morning I’ve had.’

They were too preoccupied when both their mobile phones made sounds, indicating that they had each received a new email.

Helen Beamish had been busy all morning and still had a number of case files waiting her attention in the three baskets on her desk. She had dictated numerous letters and made many phone calls. Calum Steel’s email had immediately grabbed her attention. The subject box read:

URGENT— MISSING TEENAGER — WE NEED YOU

She had read the short missive and immediately decide that action was needed. She pulled on her purple jacket from the back of her chair and alerted Hazie, her secretary, that she had received an email from the West Uist Chronicle , only to be told that both Hazie and Kathleen, Cameron Beamish’s secretary had received the same email.

‘I’d better get on with these reports, Helen,’ Hazie said, ‘but I’ll text my Henry and get him to go out.’

‘And I’d better stay and man Cameron’s phone,’ Kathleen said.

Helen was reaching for the reception door when it opened and her husband came in.

‘Cameron!’ she exclaimed. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you back today. What’s happened? You’re supposed to be in Oban until tomorrow.’ Cameron had been away resolving a case on the mainland.

Cameron smiled and shrugged. ‘The other side decided to settle and so I caught the ferry and came back early to see my beautiful wife.’

‘We’ve got an emergency, Cameron,’ Helen interrupted. ‘There’s a missing teenager, Vicky Spiers, somewhere out on the moors by Harpoon Hill. The police have asked Calum Steele to get as many people as possible out looking for her, on the moors, on the beaches, anywhere. I’ve got to get going to help out.’

He looked down at his suit. ‘I’d better pop home and get my wet weather clothes on. I’ll follow you as soon as I change.’

‘I’ll see you later, then,’ Helen said, kissing his cheek on her way out.

Once in her car she sat and thought for a moment before pulling out her phone and making a call.

Norma had finished breakfasts and went over all the management plans with her three team leaders, one for each floor of the home, before she was able to leave the Hydro. She drove her Fiat 500 over to Lochiel’s Copse, where Robbie Ochterlonie lived alone in the log cabin that he had built himself. She knew that he liked his privacy and had aspirations to be a writer. A log cabin on the edge of woods with wildlife all around, he had told her, was a prime requisite to creative writing. Millie McKendrick was the first to tell her that he actually liked his solitude to drink his peatreek, the illicit whisky that he also peddled to some of the residents. Then Norma realised that the sweet odour that she was often aware of in the mornings was due to his drinking the night before.

His drinking was one of the things that Norma turned a blind eye to, but worried about in case the owners of the Hydro should find out. It would undoubtedly mean a scandal for the residential home and the sack for Robbie.

The cabin curtains were all still drawn shut when she got out of the car.

She knocked on the door and prayed that she’d hear him stirring inside. But she was greeted with silence.

She felt her heart quicken, for Doreen McGuire had implanted the fear that he might be unwell, possibly lying in a diabetic coma.

‘Please, Robbie, just be drunk,’ she whispered to herself as she tried the door handle. It was unlocked and opened easily.

‘Robbie?’ she called as she tentatively pushed the door open. ‘It’s me, Norma. Are you OK?’

The lights were still on and she saw Robbie lying face down in a pool of blood and vomit.

A scream threatened to burst forth, but she suppressed it and bent down to feel his neck for his carotid pulse.

There was none. His skin was cold and the tissues under it were already stiffening. Norma had seen enough dead bodies to know the worst. Robbie Ochterlonie was stone dead.

‘Talk about a baptism of fire,’ DC Penny Faversham said over a mug of Ewan’s stewed tea late that night in the station restroom. ‘Three teenagers go drinking overnight, one ends up dead, another is in hospital and the third is missing. And then that poor man dying suddenly.’

Ewan was pouring out tea for the other members of the West Uist police. ‘It’s not always like this,’ he told her with a smile. ‘It’s normally a happy wee island.’

‘I feel bad giving up on the search for Vicky Spiers,’ said Wallace, spooning four sugars into his mug.

‘We had to stop for the dark and the rain. It was starting to get dangerous for the searchers,’ said Morag. ‘We had a quarter of the island out and we didn’t find any trace of her. We’ll start again first thing in the morning though. Then we’ll have uniformed officers from Lewis on the next ferry and we can be more organised.’

Torquil nodded. ‘It shows how the island can work together. Calum and Cora did a sterling job mobilising folk to help with the search, even though we’ve been unsuccessful.’

‘Do you think she could be dead, Piper?’ asked Douglas Drummond.

Torquil felt a shiver run up and down his spine. ‘I certainly hope not. I’m banking on her having found somewhere to crawl into and fall asleep.’

‘Will we alert the television and radio tomorrow, Torquil?’ asked Morag.

‘Aye. I’ll do that. And I promised Calum that I’d let him have a statement first thing. We have to play ball with him. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow for all of us.’ He turned to DC Penny Faversham. ‘I’m sorry that I had to give you a sudden death as your first job.’

She nodded and gave a wan smile. ‘Dr McLelland said he couldn’t issue a death certificate and so I had to contact the Procurator Fiscal’s office, which I did. That’s the second thing I’ve found quite different up here in Scotland. In England we call in unexpected deaths to the coroner.’

‘Aye, they have a similar role,’ Torquil replied. ‘You’ll have to read up on the differences between Scots law and English law. What was the other thing, Penny?’

She gave a short laugh. ‘Language. I don’t mean accents, but the Gaelic. Will I have to learn all this Gaelic? On the drive up the west coast to Oban I saw that all the road signs had both English and Gaelic names.’

‘It is pretty controversial actually, Penny,’ Morag explained. ‘It is been a political issue for a few years, especially in the mainland parts where Gaelic is not spoken, or hasn’t been spoken for centuries.’

‘Here on West Uist you’ll get by fine in English,’ volunteered Ewan.

‘What were your impressions about the scene, though?’ Torquil asked. ‘You’ll need to write up your report in the morning, but just give me your overall impressions. You took photographs, didn’t you?’

‘I did. I know that the Senior Scene Examiner who came over from Lewis is going over the place again first thing in the morning, so I was careful not to disturb things more than I could help.’