Page 105 of The High Island

As they approached Kirkwall, she considered calling Ethan. They would surely have Mackie at the hospital by now, the ambulance having left with its sirens blaring and lights flashing.

No, she decided. Ethan would call as soon as he had news. And she had to believe that no news was good news.

51

The first of the Mowats who’d arrived to be interviewed were likely the innocent ones in all of this, Erling thought. Particularly since few of Harald’s branch of the family had as yet appeared.

Harald and Max were reported as being in Aberdeen, and Ragnar had apparently gone to ground, although his younger sister, Helen, was here and waiting to be interviewed by himself and hopefullyDSGreen.

Hugh’s branch of the family had begun to appear shortly after his interview, obviously urged on by the man himself.

Eilidh’s body had already been transferred to Glasgow for the post-mortem, although it appeared that most folk who’d turned up at the station had already decided that drugs had been the cause of her death in the harbour, which, in their minds at least, pointed the finger at one particular branch of the Mowat family tree.

And now it appeared that Auld Mackie had found himself in the firing line.

According to Jo, it was likely because he’d been helping them with the notebook, which had, Erling reminded himself, been his idea. One he found himself regretting now.

But if, as Jo had intimated, the answer lay in those journal pages Mackie was so concerned about, then they had the originals here.

Hearing a car arrive, he rose and headed out to the lobby to meet Jo.

‘Any word on Mackie?’ he checked on her entry.

‘None as yet. Ethan said he would call if there was any change. Is Helen here?’ she asked.

‘Yes. She’s already in the interview room. You want some time before we go in?’ he added.

‘I’d like to do it now,’ she said, ‘but I think someone should be working on those pages in the notebook that Mackie was so worried about.’ She handed him her tablet. ‘What we’ve translated so far is on there, together with a note of the three pages we hadn’t tackled as yet.’

Watching for her reaction, Erling suggested that he give that task toDSGowan.

‘Good idea,’ she immediately responded. ‘He’s meticulous on detail and he doesn’t give up.’

‘Right,’ Erling said. ‘You go on ahead and chat to the girl, and explain that I’ll join you shortly.’

He foundDSGowan in the midst of the flurry of activity that was the incident room. He was seated at his desk, studying what looked likeCCTVfootage of the entrance to the club, stopping it intermittently to stare intently at the screen. Something about his focus reminded Erling that he was still awaiting the result of the photo he’d sent to McNab’s super recognizer, the supposed image of Kris Mowat taken on a Flotta beach by Rory.

It was still the weekend, he reminded himself, and that response, plus the variousDNAresults, were unlikely to show up before Monday.

Gowan, sensing his presence, rose. ‘I’m going through the Saturday-night footage outside the club.’

‘Anything of interest?’

Gowan pointed to the screen. ‘That’s Eilidh there. Plus the guy gripping her arm. You can also just make out a mobile in her left hand. And she’s wearing shoes.’ He ran the recording on a little. ‘She goes back inside and he follows, but look. What’s he got in his hand?’ He expanded the screenshot. ‘I think that’s a syringe, sir.’

‘Can you isolate an image of this guy, one that we could run through facial recognition software?’ Erling said.

‘I can try.’

‘Good,’ Erling said. ‘But there’s something I want you to do first.’ He outlined howDSGreen had visited Mackie, and what had happened to him. ‘The pages he’d managed to decipher using an enhanced phone image need to be examined in the actual notebook. Sign it out and make a start on that. Whatever it says, we need to know, because whoever took the mobile thought them important.’

Gowan, whose determined expression had faltered whenDSGreen’s name was mentioned, settled back into place. ‘Right onto that, sir.’

Now making for the interview room, Erling considered what he’d seen on the screen. A feisty Eilidh arguing with the unknown Liverpudlian. If she had pissed him off or threatened him in any way, the sooner he would want her closed down, at least until he departed Orkney. Maybe the intention hadn’t been to kill her, just shut her up for a while or frighten her enough so she would no longer be a problem.

A glance into the interview room foundDSGreen and Helen seemingly chatting over coffee. His arrival, of course, might well ruin the atmosphere Jo had managed to create. Nevertheless,Erling entered and, greeting Helen, took a seat beside his detective sergeant.

‘I explained to Helen, sir, that this is a chat, not an interrogation. She came here voluntarily as a friend of Eilidh’s and wants to help us find out what happened to her.’