Page 37 of The High Island

Erling sat stunned at this. What the hell was going on? Had Hugh found out about his visit to St Magnus House and the content of his conversation with Cathy? Did Hugh have someone in the home reporting back to him?

His plan had been to summon Hugh to answer questions regarding his visit to his father on the night Ivor had died. Instead, Hugh had grabbed the initiative by accusing the care home of neglect.

Although he didn’t know Hugh Mowat personally, he was now aware of his reputation in Orkney. Big in stature and in business, apparently Hugh didn’t suffer fools gladly. He also headed up the family firm, which had interests in a variety of areas, including oil, fishing, construction and in two nightclubs. One here in Kirkwall, the other in Aberdeen, managed by one of his younger brothers.

Erling now revisited what Jo had said after her talk with Rachael. Kris, Rachael had told her, thought the Mowats had orchestrated Ivor’s death when they discovered that he was in touch with his great-grandson.

Such an accusation could have been the result of Kris’s disappointment and anger at arriving in Orkney to discover Ivor’ssudden death, which no one in the family had informed him of. But maybe there was more to Kris’s accusation than that?

Erling contemplated Kris’s origins on his way back to the station, his instinct telling him that this might be playing a sizeable part in the story.

In Orkney, most folk could trace their heritage, legitimate and illegitimate. Betty, Kris’s mother, had left Orkney as a pregnant seventeen-year-old. Did Kris ever discover who his father was? Did anyone in the family know?

Both Betty’s parents were dead now. But what about Betty herself? Was she still alive? Might she be able to throw any light on what was going on here in Orkney?

It was a question Rachael might have the answer to.

He now considered Rachael’s part in all of this. Suddenly brought here by her boyfriend, who had rarely spoken of Orkney or his family here. Apparently she’d not been permitted to attend Ivor’s funeral with him because the Mowat family would be ‘mean’ to her.

Then, after she’d told Kris about the pregnancy and her thoughts about having an abortion, he’d walked out upset and disappeared, leaving her frantic with worry.

How long would or could she stay on in Orkney? And in the hotel? Particularly if the missing Kris was the one paying the bill.

He realized he knew nothing about the couple’s economic circumstances. According to Tommy’s attempt at a Mowat family tree, Kris was twenty. Rachael maybe even younger than that. How had they been living up to now? Were one or both of them in a job? Would a pregnant Rachael have to go back south without an answer to Kris’s disappearance? If so, what would she do about the child she was carrying? Who was, of course, a Mowat.

Erling had the sudden and chilling thought that it was unlikely Hugh would be happy at the prospect of Kris having a child.

He stopped himself going down that route. His immediate job was to find Kris. But what if Rachael wanted to stay in Orkney until that happened, and didn’t have the funds to remain here?

There were folk he might approach who could put the girl up for a limited time, and the cost would be much less than her stay at the hotel.

Running through them, one seemed the most likely, and that was his father at Home Farm. Tommy’s connection with Ivor through his own father, Sandy, was strong. He was also concerned about Kris. If Erling asked him, Tommy would undoubtedly say yes.

With that thought in mind, he drew into the police station car park.

Jo’s shift was over, yet he suspected she would still be here, waiting for whatever news he would bring back from the care home. And to impart any of her own.

There was a definite look of relief on the face of the desk sergeant when he walked in.

‘Glad you’re back, Inspector.’

‘Why, Sergeant, is anything amiss?’ he immediately asked.

‘We just got a call regarding a body found on Hoy at Lyrawa Bay.DSGreen took it. I think she’s in your office, sir.’

‘Thank you, Sergeant,’ Erling said, trying to contain his shock at this announcement.

Opening the door to his room, he found Jo on her mobile, justas his own rang out in his pocket. She turned on his entry and, her expression also one of relief, cancelled the call.

The accompanying ringing in his pocket ceased.

‘Tell me,’ he said in the silence that followed.

‘The body of a young male has been found washed up on the sands at Lyrawa Bay, sir.’

Erling remained silent, not wanting to voice the question currently resounding in his head.

Perhaps sensing this, she said, ‘The first report says the body was badly burnt about the head, so not identifiable.’ She paused. ‘The police launch is collecting it and transferring it to the mortuary at the hospital.’