Page 28 of The High Island

‘That’ll be Ivor’s great-grandson?’ Willie said. ‘His arrival has fairstirred the Mowat family pot,’ he added. ‘You think he might have come over to Hoy?’

‘We’re going to check the ports for a sighting while we’re here,’ Erling told him.

Willie wished them good luck with that.

They made their final stop at Moaness, where the passenger ferry from Stromness berthed. There had been no recognition on the faces of the crews who’d viewed the photograph at either Lyness or Longhope, so this was their last chance to discover if Kris had been on Hoy at all.

If he’d come directly from Stromness on the passenger ferry, then he would have had to walk the three and a half miles from the ferry to the old croft at Lyrawa. Which was perfectly feasible. Plus it wasn’t uncommon for walkers to be traversing Hoy from May onwards, many of them heading for the old road to Rackwick Bay, a beauty spot on the western seaboard.

Erling had sent Jo to talk to the ferry crew. From the car, he watched as she chatted to each of the men in turn, noting their reaction to Kris’s photograph. It looked like they’d been right, and Kris Mowathadvisited Hoy yesterday.

But that didn’t necessarily mean that Kris had been the one to set the digger ablaze. To do that would have required inflammable liquid. Which he would have had to bring with him or acquire once he landed here.

Unlike the friendly overtures his sergeant had bestowed on the ferry crew, Jo’s face gave nothing away as she walked back to the car.

Sliding in, she buckled up, her expression still inscrutable.

‘Well?’ Erling finally said.

‘Guess,’ Jo demanded, without even the hint of a smile.

‘Kris came across from Stromness on the ferry yesterday, but he didn’t return,’ Erling said. ‘Either last night or any time today.’

Jo nodded. ‘Correct.’

‘Did he have luggage of any sort?’

‘I checked. The guys said they don’t take note of luggage unless it’s outlandishly large or the passenger has a bike.’

‘So he could have brought accelerant with him. And lit the fire,’ Erling said.

‘Yes, but even were all that true,’ Jo said, ‘I still think he would have contacted Rachael by now.’

Erling found himself in agreement.

‘If no one saw Kris leave Hoy, then it stands to reason he’s still on the island,’ he said.

13

Now on the passenger ferry, Jo watched as her boss’s car headed away from the pier and onto the road to Lyness.

Erling had decided that she should take the passenger ferry to Stromness and speak to Rachael,as she seems happy to talk to you. Also, she should check the harbour area for the rental vehicle, since Kris had chosen not to take it to Hoy. After which, Erling would pick her up.

It being late May, there were definitely tourists about, Jo noted. The young and hardy outdoor kind, who, by the looks of the trio nearby in the lounge, had trudged their way across Hoy. And had definitely enjoyed it, judging by their conversation, which was peppered with descriptions of Rackwick Bay and the famous sea stack known as the Old Man of Hoy. Plus the previous night’s hill blaze, which thankfully had been nowhere near their own campsite, although the smell of the burning had been strong in the air.

Listening in, Jo decided it might be worthwhile asking if they’d spotted Kris anywhere on their travels.

Intrigued at being talked to by a police officer, the two males and one female were keen to help if they could. When Jo produced Kris’s photograph, the men took a swift look, then, shrugging, seemed disappointed not to be able to report a sighting.

The female took a fair bit longer before giving her answer.

‘There was a guy who might have been him,’ she said. ‘He was ahead of us walking south, at the point where we took the old road to Rackwick.’

‘When was that?’ Jo asked.

‘Yesterday morning around ten thirty.’

‘Did he cross on the ferry with you?’ Jo tried.