Page 33 of The High Island

He wished that he might have met and talked with Ivor prior to his death. If he had, many of the questions he was currently asking himself might have been more easily answered.

Still, he thought, drawing up next to Jo’s vehicle, if anyone could coax folk to give away their secrets, it was Jo Green. Although he had come to believe that Jo too had secrets she had yet to reveal to him.

As have I, Erling reminded himself.As has everyone. Even those who appear to be free and easy with their confidences.

The month of May had produced a show of spring flowersin the neat flower beds of the home. Well protected from the Orkney winds, which could at times send hen huts careering off cross-country or even as far as the sea, the walled garden where residents could come to sit was a sheltered haven. Although, at this moment in time, the benches that lined the small lawn remained empty. The grass was occupied only by a sleek ginger tom, who was there, Erling thought, to bring about the early death of any bird that might land nearby.

Entering the reception area, he attempted an introduction, only to be told by the receptionist that she knew who he was. Using his name and title to indicate the truth of this, she then led him into a bright sitting room, where Jo was talking to a woman who, Erling decided, was likely one of the caregivers he had come to see.

The woman, who looked to be in her mid-fifties, rose when she saw him, her face turning, he thought, just a little pink.

Jo, rising in support of her, did the introductions and he learned that this was Cathy McCue and that Elspeth Crawford was on night shift this week.

Erling, smiling at the woman, urged her to sit again, then took a chair opposite.

‘DSGreen has explained that we’ve come to chat with you about Ivor Mowat?’ he said quietly.

‘She has and I’ve just been telling her about some of his escapades, and how he made us all laugh.’

‘He was quite a character, then?’ Erling said.

‘He was.’ Her face lit up. ‘And no bother at all. He liked to sit out in the walled garden. There’s a big ginger tom out there. Two rascals together, we used to say.’ A shadow crossed her face. ‘It was a real shock when Ivor died, you know. He still seemed so full of life.’

‘He was ninety-six?’ Erling said.

Cathy threw him a look. ‘There was no sign of anything wrong with him. And he’d recently made contact with his great-grandson, who was coming to visit him. He was really looking forward to that.’

‘Do you know what caused his death?’ Erling said.

‘You would have to check that with Dr Liddell, but I understand his heart just gave out.’

She sounded, Erling thought, unconvinced by that. ‘Did Ivor have many visitors?’

‘Most of his friends had already passed and he still mourned them. Your grandfather Sandy in particular. He told us many a tale of their shenanigans together as young boys. Out on Hoy and in Orphir.’ She paused there, her expression darkening. ‘His family came at times, but he didn’t much like those visits. I think he moved in here to be left alone. He could certainly have managed with ahome help if he’d stayed in his bungalow on Hoy.’ She gave a little smile. ‘We became his family. That’s what he used to tell us.’

Erling gave her a moment, before saying, ‘You may not have heard as yet, but Ivor’s great-grandson Kris has been reported missing here in Orkney. We’ve just put up his photo on social media asking for any sightings of him to be reported to us.’

Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Something’s happened to Kris?’

Erling explained. ‘He arrived in Orkney apparently unaware that Ivor had died. As we understand it, he had come specially to see Ivor. He attended the funeral and then the wake at the Kirkwall Hotel. After which he went back to the Stromness Hotel, where he was staying with his girlfriend. She reported that he left the hotel the next morning in a distressed fashion and didn’t come back overnight. We have since learned that he caught the passenger ferry from Stromness to Hoy. However, we have lost track of him since then, and he hasn’t been in touch with his girlfriend, Rachael, either.’

He watched as this news played out in a worried fashion over Cathy’s face, before she suddenly seemed to remember. ‘But there was a big fire at the Mowat place on Hoy last night. You don’t think . . .’ She looked to Erling, her expression fearful.

‘No one was hurt in the fire,’ Erling assured her. ‘Although it did a lot of damage.’ He didn’t mention the digger, thinking she would hear of it soon enough.

Cathy appeared to consider all of this before saying, ‘Elspeth and I were hoping Kris would come here. Because Ivor had made up a box especially for him. He had us put it in a safe place before—’ She stumbled to a halt. Then, gathering herself, said, ‘If Kris is missing, then I think Ivor would have wanted us to give it to you and not his family.’ Her closing words were spoken with some force. At this she rose and, excusing herself, went to fetch the said item.

‘Well,’ Jo said. ‘A mysterious box made ready for Kris, which makes me wonder what’s in the will.’ She raised an eyebrow.

Erling chose that moment to quickly outline his earlier phone conversation with Eddie Balfour regarding the reading of the will.

‘Wow,’ Jo said in a hushed tone. ‘So it’s stalemate if Kris doesn’t show.’ She considered this for a moment. ‘If Kris was aware of such a stipulation, might that make him stay away?’

‘Eddie seems to think Ivor planned to tell Kris all about it when he arrived here in Orkney.’

‘But he never got the chance,’ Jo said. ‘I take it you plan to speak to Dr Liddell as to how exactly Ivor died?’

‘I do,’ Erling said as Cathy reappeared with an old-fashioned metal box, laying it down on the table. It looked, Erling registered, like the deed box his father had.