‘What’s the story with McCleod?’ asked Hanlon. She hadn’t told Campbell about their relationship; he didn’t need to know and she wasn’t going to have the police sniggering over them like a group of schoolboys.
‘We found a lot of coke hidden at her place. SOCO and forensics are all over it at the moment.’
‘And McCleod herself?’
‘No trace of her. Crawford had a boat with quite a powerful motor – that’s missing. I think when Donald failed to reappear, she ran.’ He smiled. ‘I think she guessed the outcome. We can assume that she made her way to the mainland. I’m guessing she’ll be either out of the country or somewhere like London. I think, too, that you are lucky to be alive.’
‘Well, obviously.’
‘No.’ Campbell shook his head. ‘After you told her that you thought I was on the take, that you had seen me and Kai together, et cetera, she would have known that you wouldn’t have let it go. The last thing that McCleod needed was an intelligent, suspicious police officer obsessed with the Mackinnon Arms. Even if Morag hadn’t intervened, your days would have been numbered. I think she’d have removed the problem – you would have had a tragic accident while hill-running…’
He sighed. ‘She was a very efficient police officer, a very efficient criminal. I have no doubt she’ll be a very efficient fugitive.’
Hanlon nodded. Campbell looked at her. ‘And you, what are you up to? Are you really going to be a private detective, chase cheating wives and husbands? Like you told me, remember?’
‘I’ve resigned from the police,’ Hanlon said.
Campbell looked at her keenly. ‘That’s a big step…’ She smiled; she noticed he didn’t say, please don’t, please reconsider.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she said to forestall any queries.
‘Immediate plans?’ he asked.
‘I’m staying here a while. I do have a holiday booked.’ Hanlon gave a sardonic laugh.
‘Well…’ Campbell slid a card over the table that separated them ‘… I have friends in a legal team in Glasgow. They do corporate stuff – they often need a good investigator. It would be a hell of a sight more interesting than divorces. And they pay well.’
‘Thanks.’ She genuinely meant it.
He leaned forward. ‘You’re too good to be wasting your time on cheating husbands, even if you do need to brush up on your stalking skills…’She smiled at him and their eyes met, green looking into grey.
‘How did you get over that fence?’
‘There’s a ladder for walkers to cross, that simple…’ He sat back in his chair. ‘Think about my offer. If you’re interested, there’s my card, it’s got my mobile number on, call me.’
‘Possibly.’ She hesitated. ‘Thank you.’ She leaned forward and took his card. ‘I owe you an apology. I was convinced you were dirty.’
Campbell smiled. ‘It’s the red hair. Judas had red hair.’
‘Did he really?’
‘So they say. Mind you…’ he smiled again ‘… they also say that Jesus came to Dumbarton. You can’t always believe what you hear.’
They shook hands.
Hanlon stood up and walked out of the interview room. Campbell watched her go, her back straight, utterly imperious. He found her disturbingly attractive.He stared at her firm, emphatic signature at the end of the witness statement. He hoped they’d meet again.
Hanlon walked out of the Port Ellen police station and down to the harbour front. She stared out across the darkening sea. It was fascinating how it changed colour so much. Black clouds were moving in from the west and there were occasional white horses outside the tranquillity of the harbour.
She thought of Donald’s broken body lying on the rocks of the burn far below, the icy water running over him. So much for his plans of running a Michelin-starred restaurant on Jura. So much for his plans of killing her.
Hanlon had a retentive memory; the lines of Burns she had read in Donald’s book, on Donald’s sofa, in Donald’s cottage, came into her mind.
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Gang aft agley,
And leave us nought but grief an’ pain
For promised joy.
She pushed her hand through her hair, her grey eyes as expressionless and unfathomable as the Atlantic she was looking at.
‘Come on, boy,’ she said to Wemyss.
The two of them walked off, away from the sea, towards the centre of town.
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About the Author
Alex Coombs studied Arabic at Oxford and Edinburgh Universities and went on to work in adult education and then retrained to be a chef. He has written four well reviewed crime novels as Alex Howard.
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First published in Great Britain in 2020 by Boldwood Books Ltd.
Copyright © Alex Coombs, 2020
Cover Design by Nick Castle Design
The moral right of Alex Coombs to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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