Page 59 of The High Island

‘Well?’ prompted Rory.

‘There is a likeness,’ Erling admitted. ‘Where was this taken?’

‘On Flotta, as I said. Not far from the oil terminal.’

‘What was he doing?’

‘Walking the shoreline.’

Erling couldn’t make sense of this. Flotta was Mowat territory. As was most of southern Hoy. If Kris wanted to hide, it was an odd place to choose.

Rory had obviously been reading his thoughts, because he answered his unspoken question. ‘Hide where they least expect you to. That was my motto in my past life. Also, he had a hood up. I just caught him when he took it down briefly.’

When Erling still didn’t look convinced, Rory said, ‘Plus rumour has it that the dead guy on the beach is a drug courier from Aberdeen.’ He examined Erling’s reaction to this, before adding, ‘You do know you have a drugs war on your hands? Aberdeen versus county-lines gangs from south of the border? My best guess being Liverpool.’

Erling didn’t respond to this, despite the fact it rang an alarm bell in his head. And was a match for Leo’s warning.

‘If you have any knowledge of drugs coming into Flotta or anywhere in Orkney, you’re obliged to—’

Rory cut him off. ‘Didn’t I just do that?’ he said. ‘I’ve only heard rumours about the drugs and the death of the courier. You do know the Mowats have a nightclub in Aberdeen?’

‘I do,’ Erling said. ‘And that one of their number was recently found not guilty in court on a drugs charge.’

Rory shrugged. ‘And Max Mowat is currently home on Hoy crowing about that.’

He rose and came to stand behind Erling, placing his hands on his shoulders. ‘Have we talked shop long enough?’ he said, massaging the tension there. ‘You have to work all weekend. I get that. But what about tonight? Are you off duty now,DIFlett?’

Erling rose and, turning, took Rory in his arms. ‘I am,’ he said, his voice thick with the desire to forget burnt and buried bodies and to celebrate being part of the world of the living.

27

Organizing a viewing of the security footage turned out to be anything but simple. It involved a call to the hotel manager, who was not currently in Orkney. When he was eventually reached, he said he needed a warrant to allow what he called ‘some random female turning up, demanding to view it’.

At this point in the proceedings, Jo took the phone and pointed out that she was in fact Detective Sergeant Jo Green, that the female missing from his hotel was possibly in danger, and if anyone had removed her unwillingly from the hotel premises, she would hold the manager responsible.

After this, she was promptly given access to the appropriate room, plus the necessary password to review the footage.

She’d handled such a task before, where the mind-numbing manner of it had had her wondering how super recognizers managed to do their job, sitting as they did in front of grainy images for hours, looking to match a particular person.

Luckily the security camera at the rear of the building wasn’t recording a busy location. Running it from early morning, she watched as guests exited by the back door with their luggage, located their vehicles and drove away.

There were arrivals too, of course, who parked their cars and made their way inside to book in at reception. But no image of Rachael’s arrival in the early afternoon, since, according to the receptionist, she’d entered by the front door.

Her patience beginning to run thin, Jo was contemplatingskipping forward to when Rachael was definitely in the hotel, when she saw a figure enter the car park and head for the back entrance.

It was a male – he wore jeans and a grey hooded top, and it appeared to her that he checked for the camera and purposefully dipped his head to avoid his face being recorded.

Totally focused now, she counted the seconds and minutes as they ticked past, watching to see the same male exit. He didn’t. Neither alone, nor with Rachael.

Checking the time, she noted he’d been inside the building for at least twenty minutes. Had he left by the front door? Or was he in fact an employee who had simply arrived for work?

Deciding to check this, she stopped the recording and went through to reception, where Gail, as her name tag said, looked at her worriedly.

‘Do you have a young male employee who would arrive here for work at about two o’clock? He was wearing a grey hoodie and was around five foot ten?’

Gail looked taken aback by the question, then thought for a moment. ‘Possibly. I can check the roster if you can wait for a second?’

‘Of course,’ Jo said, trying to keep the impatience she felt out of her voice.