Rosemarkie was only five minutes away. A narrow main street, a church and a pub. Rebus lost sight of the coastline, and signalled right, turning down a narrow lane until he hit the seafront. A row of houses faced the water, bookended by a children’s park at one end and a restaurant at the other. The house with the red door was a cottage with dormer windows jutting out from its roof. There was an enclosed sun porch with enough space for a single armchair. The man seated there held a newspaper close to his eyes, peering hard at the print. There was a venerable olive-green Land Rover parked next to the house, and enough land for a foot-wide strip of weed-free garden. The man eventually realised that Rebus and Clarke weren’t passers-by. He put his paper down and opened the door. He had heft, but the years had given him a stoop and slowed his movements. He would be in his mid sixties, his hair silver but neatly trimmed, his eyes small but piercing.
‘Gregor Magrath?’ Rebus said.
‘That’s me.’
‘I’m John Rebus. This is Siobhan Clarke. Peter Bliss asked us to drop by.’
‘Peter? I was speaking to him just a few days back.’
‘Well, he says hello.’
‘Rebus?’ Magrath studied him. ‘I seem to know that name. .’ He thought for a moment. ‘Lothian and Borders CID?’
Rebus bowed his head in acknowledgement. ‘And Siobhan here is a serving DI.’
‘So what brings you north?’
‘Mind if we come in?’
‘The place is a bit of a guddle. .’
‘I promise we won’t look.’
Magrath led them inside. Past the front door, they were immediately in a small, overheated living room, with a kitchenette beyond. There was a patterned three-piece suite, a TV, and shelves filled with books and knick- knacks, including mementoes from Magrath’s time on the force.
‘You live here on your own?’
‘Wife passed away many years back.’
‘I think I remember Peter telling me,’ Rebus said with a nod.
Clarke suggested that she make them a pot of tea. Magrath made to help her, but she told him she would manage. As she busied herself at the worktop, the two men sat down either side of the electric fire.
‘Bills must be grim,’ Rebus commented.
‘Place isn’t hard to heat. Good glazing helps.’ Magrath slapped his hands against his knees. ‘You were telling me why you’re so far from home. .’
‘You must have seen it on the news,’ Rebus said, glancing towards the blank screen of the TV. ‘Or read about it, at least.’
‘The missing women?’ Magrath guessed.
‘Five of whom might just have turned up.’
Magrath nodded solemnly. ‘Bad business,’ he commented, before calling out to Clarke that the sugar was in a bowl next to the bread bin.
‘You’ve been living up here a while,’ Rebus said.
‘Ever since I retired.’
‘It’s a glorious location.’ Rebus had risen to his feet and crossed to the window.
‘It is that.’
‘Are you from here originally?’
‘No. Just always had a soft spot for the place. And how’s Edinburgh these days? Any sign of those trams getting nearer?’
‘They’re still laying the tracks.’
‘Waste of bloody money. Council never seems to have had its wits about it.’
‘I work at SCRU,’ Rebus announced, turning away from the window again.
‘Maybe that’s why I know the name. Peter probably mentioned you.’
‘He probably did,’ Rebus said. ‘I’ve just got off the phone with him. He told me to let you know SCRU’s days are numbered.’
‘That Crown Office unit’s taking over?’ Magrath’s mouth twitched. ‘Doesn’t really surprise me.’
‘Shame to lose it, though.’
Magrath nodded slowly. ‘I always saw it as my legacy. It meant I’d made a difference.’
Clarke had found a tray and was bringing everything through from the kitchen. ‘Didn’t see any biscuits,’ she said.
‘If I get them in, I just eat the lot,’ Magrath explained.
When she glanced in Rebus’s direction, Magrath knew why. ‘Your colleague has broken the news,’ he told her.
They drank the tea in silence for a moment, then Magrath asked how Bliss was keeping.
‘Still breathing,’ Rebus answered.
‘And every one of them sounding like his last, eh?’
Rebus acknowledged the truth of this. ‘Tell me something,’ he said. ‘During your time in charge, how many cases did you manage to close?’
Magrath thought for a moment. ‘Just the two. Made progress on six more, but it never got as far as a prosecution.’ He leaned forward a little. ‘Actually, of those two, one fell into our lap — guy came forward to confess as soon as he heard we’d reopened the inquiry. I think it was a weight off his conscience.’
‘We could do with a few more consciences in the world,’ Clarke stated.
‘That we could, lass.’
‘Is that an old wooden truncheon?’ Rebus asked, gesturing towards the bookshelves.
‘From before your time, I’m sure.’
Rebus had walked over to the shelf in question. ‘Mind if I. .?’ He picked it up and felt its heft. It was nicely weighted, with a leather wrist strap and grooves wide enough for his fingers. ‘We’re barely allowed handcuffs these days,’ he commented.
‘And pepper spray and extendable batons,’ Clarke reminded him.
Rebus waved the truncheon in Magrath’s direction. ‘Ever use it?’
‘Came in handy a few times, I have to admit.’ Magrath leaned back in his chair. ‘You came all this way just to tell me about SCRU?’
‘Actually,’ Clarke said, ‘we were watching the dolphins at Chanonry Point. .’
‘Bliss called me,’ Rebus went on, ‘and explained we were near your place.’
Magrath smiled and nodded to himself. ‘He didn’t want to be the one to break the news.’
Rebus replaced the truncheon on its shelf. There were family photos there, posed groupings in gilt-edged frames. ‘You know Nina Hazlitt, don’t you?’
Magrath seemed to take a second to place the name.
‘Mother of Sally Hazlitt,’ Rebus prompted him. ‘She went missing from Aviemore at the Millennium.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Magrath nodded again. ‘Memory’s not what it was,’ he apologised.
‘She’s been all over the media this past week or so,’ Rebus added. ‘She’s full of praise for you.’
Magrath’s eyes widened. ‘Why would that be?’
‘Because you gave her the benefit of the doubt when no one else would.’
‘I listened to the woman’s story.’
‘And looked into it.’
‘Yes, I suppose so. She heard about a woman vanishing from somewhere near Strathpeffer — convinced herself it might tie into her own daughter’s disappearance.’
‘Others weren’t nearly as helpful, and she hasn’t forgotten it.’
‘I really don’t think I did very much. .’
‘All I’m saying is, don’t be surprised if you’re mentioned in dispatches.’
‘I’d much rather she didn’t say anything.’
‘Mind if I ask why?’
‘Because it’s just one more case that went nowhere.’ Magrath had risen from his armchair, seeming to need
