‘What do you mean?’ She genuinely didn’t understand the reference.
McKinley shrugged. ‘Some people are born unlucky, and some spread that bad luck to those around them… as Sian Davies found.’
Jane felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. ‘Look, John, let’s get one thing clear,’ she said. ‘Any problems you may have with Robert, you leave them here. If you can’t do that then tell me now, because it’s not too late to drop you from the team. I don’t want to do that because I think your contribution to this investigation will be vital, but I won’t stand by and watch the whole thing unravel because of personal resentments. Understood?’
‘Understood,’ he said with as easy smile. ‘And I’ll consider my knuckles well and truly rapped. But I figure we’ll all have to watch each other’s backs, and I hate to think that one of us will have his head so far up his own ass that he won’t be able to do that.’
‘I trust Robert,’ Jane said. ‘He won’t let us down.’
‘If you say so, Jane. You’re the boss,’ he said and left the room.
‘Yes,’ Jane said quietly to herself. ‘Yes, I am.’ She shook her head and suddenly wished she wasn’t.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The flight to Aberdeen was uneventful. A Land Cruiser had been hired to carry them and their equipment on to Peterhead. McKinley drove, glancing in his mirror occasionally at Carter who sat in the back, talking to no one, his head buried in more thick files, keeping his distance from the rest of the team for the moment.
They reached Peterhead a little after three in the afternoon, and set about finding the hotel. The directions they’d been given were inadequate and it was running close to four thirty before they finally found it.
The Cleeves Hotel stood well back from the road as if embarrassed to show itself. It was an ugly modern structure, built in the late 1980s but looked in dire need of renovation. Paint peeled from the window frames and the brickwork was stained with damp.
‘Looks like Crozier blew the bud get when he found this place,’ John McKinley said with a smile as they walked into the lobby.
‘It’s not as if he knew,’ Jane said, still anxious to avoid any reason for friction, but disliked the defensive echo in her words.
‘I just checked the tariff,’ Raj said as he joined them at the desk. ‘That must have given him a clue if nothing else. This must be one of the cheapest hotels in Scotland.’
‘It’s only for one night,’ Jane said. ‘Let’s make the best of it.’ She approached the reception desk.
A plump receptionist stared at her dead-eyed. ‘Yes?’
‘You have rooms booked, in the name of Talbot.’
The girl checked the screen on her computer. ‘Yes.’ She reached under the desk and produced a clutch of key cards. ‘You’re all on the second floor. Rooms 201 through 203. Lift’s at the end of the passageway.’
‘Can we book a meal?’ Jane said to the receptionist.
The girl took a while staring at her watch. ‘The kitchens don’t open until six.’
‘Good. Then we’ve got time to rest up first?’
‘Last serving is at nine, sharp,’ the plump girl said. She was wearing a name tag over her ample left breast.
‘Well, thank you, Fiona,’ Jane said to her. ‘We’ll bear that in mind.’
The girl gave her a look as if to say,
Jane turned to the others and said quietly, ‘And they said good service was a thing of the past,’ and then, louder. ‘Kirby, you’re with me. Raj, here’s your key, you and Robert, and John, you’re on your own.’
‘It’s because I’m black isn’t it?’ he said with a grin.
‘No, it’s because you’re the biggest and the single room has a bigger bed.’
‘Fair enough. I snore as well.’
‘Good,’ Jane said, and went back to the desk. ‘We’ll book a meal for seven.’
Fiona Whyte sighed and tapped in something on the computer. ‘Table for five,’ she said. ‘Seven o’clock.’
‘Thank you again, Fiona,’ Jane said with a smile. ‘Does the bar stay open all day?’
Fiona shook her head. ‘Opens at five thirty,’ she said.
‘Right. Good.’ She rejoined the others. ‘We’ll meet in the bar at six,’ she said. ‘Everybody okay with that?’
There was a murmur of agreement.
‘Robert? You happy with that?’
‘Yeah, no problem,’ he said, picking up his bag and heading off down the corridor to the elevator. He knew he hadn’t contributed much to the team banter yet but there was a nagging premonition in his head, and the closer they had gotten to the hotel the stronger it had become. The problem was that he couldn’t pinpoint the source of his concern.
‘He’s going to be fun,’ Kirby said in Jane’s ear.
‘Don’t you start,’ she said. ‘Besides, it’s only for one night. Once we get to the Manse on the island we’ll be too busy for personality clashes, moody silences or anything vaguely human.’
Kirby chased a leathery steak listlessly around her plate.
‘Not enjoying your meal?’ McKinley said to her.
‘I ordered it rare. This has been cremated.’
‘Send it back.’ He had no patience with poor service, and even less with people who were too polite to complain about it.
‘No. I’m going to take it home and have it mounted; hang it on the wall. A trophy of my first and last trip to the Cleeves Hotel.’
After coffee they retired to their rooms.
Raj Kumar sat on the bed surrounded by cameras and lenses. His lank, long hair was tied back in a ponytail, which accentuated his wispy goatee. With a puffer-brush he cleaned dust from a telephoto lens. There were three cameras on the bed. He had others stowed away with the rest of his equipment, but these three rarely left his side. They were his babies and he cherished them; spending many hours cleaning and servicing them. There was a Hasselblad with a digital back and two Canon SLRs, work horses; one loaded with regular film, the other containing infrared stock. They rewarded his dedication to them by never once letting him down.
Carter was lying on the other bed, reading by the anemic light of a dusty bedside lamp.
‘We went out together, you know,’ Raj said.
‘Sorry?’ Carter had heard what he said but needed a moment to control his emotions.
‘Sian and me. We went out together.’
Carter put the file down. ‘I didn’t realize you two…’
‘Oh, we weren’t. At least, not properly. Just a few evenings for drinks and stuff.’ Raj was concentrating on his lenses, not looking at Carter. ‘She was a good kid.’
‘Yes,’ Carter said. ‘She was.’ He wasn’t sure what agenda Kumar was setting. The words seemed innocent but Carter guessed there was more to come.
Raj lapsed into silence and Carter picked up the files again and started to read. He could wait for Kumar to make his point; he had all night.
‘I wanted to get to know her better,’ Raj said, putting the thoroughly cleaned lens back in its case and picking up another from the bed.
With an inward sigh Carter closed the file and laid it on the bed. ‘Why didn’t you then?’
‘There was no point. I could tell it wasn’t going anywhere.’ Again Carter could tell Raj was skirting round what he really wanted to say.
‘Really? Did you try to take it further?’ He didn’t want intimate details. In truth he was just being polite. All he could think about were the events contained in the files.
‘She knew how I felt about her. But there was someone else.’
‘Too bad.’
