Shortly afterwards, McCleod returned with Wemyss. The border collie stared up at Hanlon with adoration and nuzzled her hand.
‘He likes you,’ said McCleod, sounding surprised. ‘He’s not normally all that friendly with people.’
Hanlon stared at the dog expressionlessly. She wasn’t all that keen on animals. Dogs seemed overly needy to her.
‘So what are you doing exactly, about Franca?’
‘There’ll be an autopsy. It won’t be up to us, but Murdo…’ McCleod noticed the look on Hanlon’s face ‘… he’s actually not that bad, once you get to know him. I know he comes across as a bit of a smart-ass, but I think that’s insecurity.’
‘Really?’ Hanlon’s tone was incredulous. She had little time for what she thought of as ‘shrink speak’, which she immediately thought was ironic since she was seeing one.
‘Well, anyway… His grandmother lives on Jura and he happened to be here anyway. When I was called about the incident, I got in touch with him. We’re just doing a preliminary round of interviews, just in case there’s more to the death than meets the eye. We’ll know more later, but, right now, I think it’ll be put down as an accident. Of course, that’ll be up to the coroner, but all things considered…’
‘An accident?’ Hanlon’s tone bordered on the incredulous.
‘Who would want to kill her?’ asked McCleod simply.
I can think of someone, thought Hanlon, recalling Kai’s casual, practised brutality as he swung the pan into Franca’s arm.
McCleod continued, ‘She was the worse for wear, there are no lights out on that jetty, it was pouring with rain, the planks were slippery. There are rocks underneath the walkway, just below and above the waterline, and on the side she fell in there is no rail.’
Silence fell as the two women contemplated Franca’s fate. Hanlon’s eyes flickered to the man behind the bar. She wondered if maybe Franca had returned with revenge on her mind. Kai’s comment, ‘I’ll kill you.’ A throwaway line or a statement of intent? She dismissed the thought. Franca was almost certainly a realist. She hadn’t come after her, or turned up at her bedroom door begging for, or demanding, her coke back.
Perhaps Kai had simply scraped his knuckles on the rough walls of the beer cellar as he said. Maybe it was Big Jim, wanting sex, being refused and losing his temper. That was probably just wishful thinking on her part. But she was curious about him. She looked at McCleod, who was following her gaze.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked.
‘I was just wondering if Kai had ever been inside, and if so, what for,’ Hanlon said. McCleod scratched her pointed chin. Her face was so at odds with her body.
‘Do you know what? I think I’ll find out,’ said McCleod judiciously. She finished her coffee and looked at her watch. ‘I’d better go.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘You know how it is…’
Hanlon smiled back. ‘Don’t worry… It was nice meeting you again Catriona.’
‘Likewise…’ McCleod hesitated. ‘Look, why don’t we meet up for a drink, say not tomorrow evening but the night after that? In Craighouse, at the hotel there. Not here.’
‘God, no! Not here,’ said Hanlon, with feeling. ‘But yes, I’d love to meet you for a drink.’
‘I’ll fill you in on how things are going. The post-mortem will be prioritised, that much I know. And I’ll tell you what I’ve learnt about our friend over there.’
‘I’d like that,’ Hanlon said.
‘I’ll bring Wemyss.’
‘Oh, good,’ said Hanlon, insincerely. The dog’s tail swished on the carpet.
‘See you Thursday, then, 8 p.m. Oh,’ she said, ‘what’s your number? Coverage on the island’s really patchy, it’s a bit weird, sometimes you seem to get it, sometimes you can’t.’
They exchanged numbers. ‘Don’t be late!’ McCleod added.
‘I’m never late,’ said Hanlon, somewhat stiffly.
McCleod grinned. ‘I kind of knew you’d say that.’
Hanlon returned the smile, turned and left the bar. McCleod stood up and was on her phone. Wemyss stared at Hanlon’s back, unrequited love shining in his intelligent brown eyes.
She walked up the stairs to her room and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t know what she wanted to do. Nose-stud was dead. She remembered how she had cradled the girl’s head in the crook of her arm as she had slowly swum her back to shore. The cold, clean chill of the water surrounding her. What a waste of a life.
She idly stared out of the larger window overlooking the car-park as she stretched out on top of the duvet. There was a buzzard circling the mountain behind the hotel. Hanlon stood up and went to the window to get a better view of the bird. She watched it effortlessly wheeling in the grey sky, then she heard voices in the car park. She looked down. McCleod was talking to Campbell. As Campbell opened the driver’s door of his car she saw McCleod look at him and shake her head with what looked like irritated disbelief. There was something about his car that drew her attention. As McCleod was getting into her old Volvo Hanlon realised what it was and her heart started beating fast.
She realised she had seen the vehicle before. She watched as it reversed away from the low wall. A long-wheelbase Land Rover. ‘Argyll For Ever’, read the sticker on the back as Campbell drove out of the Mackinnon Arms car park.
A car park he had been in the night before.
11
‘Iveta Balodis, from Jurmala in Latvia, that was her name. She called herself Eva.’ It was the next day and Donald poured Hanlon a cup of tea and gave her one of the rolls he’d made that were cooling on a wire rack. He opened the fridge and took out a plate of thin sliced gravadlax, flecked green with finely chopped dill.
‘Thanks,’ said Hanlon. She put a piece of the smoked salmon on
