‘This is very good,’ she said. She pushed her rain-and-sweat-sodden hair back.
She had been returning from a run up the foothills of the mountain. The one that she could see from the larger bedroom window at the rear of the hotel.
It had taken her nearly an hour to get to the top. Once there, the views were fantastic. She could see Islay to the south, west, the endless Atlantic, a silver sheet of light to the far horizon. To the north, more small islands, splashes of green and black and grey in the blue of the lochs, and to the east, the Kintyre peninsula. And below, like a malignant tumour, the Mackinnon Hotel. She stared at it. She could have left, but she wanted to stay, simply to get some leverage on Big Jim, leverage that she could use to bring him down. Once Hanlon started on something, she was remorseless, unstoppable, hard and obdurate as the quartzite that made up the Paps.
When she was on the way back to the hotel, running past the cottage, Donald had glimpsed her through the window and invited her in.
Although she suspected his motives – he exuded lechery – it had been too good an opportunity to miss.
‘Of course it is.’ He grinned. ‘I made it.’
Hanlon smiled back. ‘Have you got a picture of Eva?’
Donald nodded and got out his mobile. He found what he was looking for and passed the Samsung to Hanlon. She looked at the image: blonde and dumpy, with a mole to the left of her nose, her aggressive earrings, derms and studs somehow at odds with her rather homely face. Nose-stud had instinctively known how to rock facial piercings; Eva looked as if she was dressing up for a bet or a dare.
McCleod had texted her that the preliminary report had suggested death by drowning, nothing overly suspicious. She’d called her back and McCleod had added more to the story. Harriet had given a statement that Eva had told her that she was going to swim out to the Corryvreckan. When she’d asked her why, Eva had said it was to test herself, that she was a girl who liked to live life to extremes. She had told Harriet that was why she was so pierced. To push the envelope back, to approach the limits of the possible. Hanlon suspected this was bullshit.
‘What was this story about Eva and the Corryvreckan?’ She told Donald about Harriet’s statement. ‘Was it true?’
‘Aye, it’s right enough,’ confirmed the chef. ‘Eva had mentioned it several times. Thing is with that whirlpool it can vary in strength like crazy, depending on the tides, the time of year, it’s hellish changeable.’
‘So it’s possible that she could have underestimated it?’ asked Hanlon.
Donald nodded. ‘Easily. And it’s true what Harriet said, she did bang on about how she liked to push herself to the limits…’ He laughed. ‘Although not at work – I never saw any signs of pushing any limits there! Lazy bitch. But she did like sea swimming, that is actually true. She was a good swimmer.’
Well, thought Hanlon, slightly disappointed, be that as it may, she still suspected Big Jim and Harriet of having had a hand in the death.
‘You weren’t fond of her then?’
‘Christ no!’ Donald stood up and stretched; his gut rose a couple of inches upwards as he did so, and then slid back down to its comforting resting place over the broad belt holding up his jeans. He walked over to the fridge, opened it and got out a beer.
‘Want one?’ he asked Hanlon.
She shook her head. ‘I’m fine with tea.’
‘It’s my day off,’ said Donald by way of explanation, and sat down. Hanlon looked at the clock: 10 a.m. He pulled the ring on the can and tipped half of it down his throat.
‘No, I was not fond of her.’ His voice was emphatic.
‘Why not?’ said Hanlon.
Donald shrugged. ‘She was a pain in the arse, that girl. I know that. Like I said, she was lazy, stuff would go missing. She had the nerve to try to pin it on Johanna – that girl wouldn’t say boo to a goose. Big Jim wanted to sack her, but she was threatening to take him to an industrial tribunal. She threatened me with that too, come to that.’
Hanlon looked at him questioningly.
He grinned shiftily, guiltily. ‘She told me that she was pierced all over… I said I would nae mind a look… och, well, you can only ask…’
Repeatedly, I bet, thought Hanlon.
Donald continued, ‘And she had two lawsuits from those no-win no-fee lawyers going, one against the council for hurting her ankle in a pothole and one against the taxi driver, Davey Lennox, for alleged whiplash after he braked hard when a deer jumped out in front of him.’ He shook his head. ‘What the fuck was he supposed to do? Drive into it?’
‘She wasn’t popular then?’ asked Hanlon. A picture was definitely emerging: a sly, manipulative person, not many friends. Generally disliked.
Donald shook his head. ‘No, when she died a fair few folks heaved a wee sigh of relief. But she was no fool either, and this town she was from, Jurmala, it’s by the sea. If you’re brought up by the sea you tend to respect it, you don’t go swimming near a whirlpool.’ He looked at her keenly. ‘The sea’s the sea whether it’s the Baltic or the Atlantic.’
‘So what do you think?’
Donald shrugged again. ‘Shit happens,’ he said, ‘but let’s just say I bet Big Jim was delighted when she never came back from her swim.’
I knew it, she thought.
‘Why all the questions?’ he asked. ‘I thought the police had it down as an accident.’
‘I’m sure they’re right,’ said Hanlon. ‘I suppose old habits die hard.’ Silence fell for a minute or so, then, ‘Does the hotel have a boat?’ she asked.
‘Two,’ he said. ‘You’ll have seen them moored at the jetty. One’s a fourteen-foot rowing boat
