Page 79 of The High Island

He recalled his sergeant’s reaction at the mention of Gowan’s name. How swiftly she’d tried to cover her distress. No. Gowan was someone she didn’t want to meet again for whatever reason.DSGowan, on the other hand, had apparently volunteered for this assignment probably knowing she was here.

‘Right, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘Check in with me at regular intervals tonight. Also, Leo Strachan is due here any minute. The others know Leo and his fellow pastors, it’s important that you do too.’

He watched as a flicker of resentment crossed Gowan’s face.

‘I advise you to listen to what he has to say, Sergeant. I suspectwe’ve had better results in Orkney than they’ve had on mainland Scotland because of Leo and his team.’

He’d given Leo a call just after his earlier conversation with Gowan. Gowan held rank over the other officers out on the streets tonight, so could tell them what to do. Not so with Strachan.

Despite his own misgivings about the pastor and his reasons for patrolling the Kirkwall streets, Erling knew that the young folk trusted him, especially the females, and he didn’t want that trust broken by Gowan.

It was at this precise moment that the pastor made his appearance. Catching sight of Gowan, Leo looked interested and welcoming.DSGowan not so much.

Erling was suddenly reminded of his most recent meeting withDSMcNab, who’d been ordered back to Orkney much against his will.

Having now made the introductions, Erling intimated that he would leave them to chat and reiterated that he wanted to be kept informed of tonight’s events as they occurred. Then he wished them good luck and left them to it.

38

Ethan Howie was waiting for her on the slipway, oilskin and black hat back in action.

‘So you came?’ he said with a curt nod, before asking ifPCTulloch was likely to join them.

‘Ivan’s busy elsewhere,’ Jo told him, without saying where or why.

He threw her a scrutinizing look, taking in her own all-weather gear. ‘I assume your boss,DIFlett, okayed you making this trip with me to Cava?’ he checked.

‘He did,’ she said, equally formally.

‘Right.’ He handed her a life jacket. ‘Put this on.’

He watched her fasten herself in, then, offering a hand to climb aboard the small red fishing boat, instructed her to take a seat in the bow. ‘TheAngelcan pitch,’ he warned. ‘And there’s still a bit of a swell.’

‘It won’t bother me,’ she said dismissively. ‘I used to go out fishing with my father.’

‘Your father’s a fisherman?’ he asked as he started up the engine and began to steer them away from the shelter of the harbour.

She shook her head, cursing herself for ever mentioning her father. Still, she found herself sticking to the truth, rather than choosing a preferable lie.

‘No. He’s a minister who liked to go out fishing sometimes.’

A short silence followed as he seemingly digested this, before he said, ‘So if we’re in need of a prayer tonight, you’d be one to supply it?’ He gave her what passed for an amused smile.

Despite everything, she found herself returning it.

‘So what would be your choice?’ he now encouraged.

About to shake her head in response, she made an instant decision to play along with him instead. Adopting a censorious air, much like that used by her father from the pulpit, she began:

‘The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,

Merrily did we drop,

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.’

Silence followed before he laughed out loud. ‘Isn’t that a quote fromThe Rime of the Ancient Mariner?’