Page 97 of The High Island

He’d volunteered because he’d found out she was here. Despite her never having answered the multitude of texts from him. And pleading with her father not to reveal to Gus where she had gone.

She’d known she was taking a chance in coming to Orkney. It was way too close to Caithness for comfort. But she’d hoped that the swiftly moving waters of the Pentland Firth might be a barrier between them. And it had looked for a time to be serving that purpose. Until, of course,DIFlett had requested back-up. An opportunity Gus could not ignore.

Putting these thoughts to the back of her mind, she now focusedon what she was being sent to Hoy to do. Dealing with bereaved families was, of course, part of the job. In Caithness, it had predominantly been a welfare issue, involving locating missing – often elderly and muddled – family members. Sadly, on occasion that had meant informing their family that they had been found dead.

Searching for missing walkers had been a common occurrence. Usually they were found alive. But, increasingly, the searches had featured young males who had gone into the wilds of Caithness to take their own lives.

None of that had been easy. But what awaited her on Hoy, she thought, was worse.

She’d spoken briefly to Ivan Tulloch from the ferry terminal and he’d assured her he would be waiting for her at Lyness. The boss, he’d said, had given him the full picture of last night’s events, together with details of his visit to the mortuary with Hugh Mowat.

‘Hugh has three sons,’ Ivan had told her, ‘but only one granddaughter. Eilidh is his youngest son Jason’s girl. Jason is working on the rigs in the North Sea. He’s apparently been informed and will be flying home. When exactly we don’t know. He and Eilidh’s mum, Liz, are to all intents and purposes separated. Hence Hugh’s role in Eilidh’s life,’ he’d added.

Passing Cava, Jo registered the presence of the police launch and divers at the spot where she and Ethan had encountered the mystery boat.DIFlett, she knew, was fighting on various fronts, hence his decision to send her to Hoy and not come himself. A decision that had also helped keep her and Gus apart.

Reaching Lyrawa Bay, she studied the hill behind, taking note of the stone remnants of the croft house, where this story had begun. Its tendrils had spread far and wide since Mr Maitland’s purchase of the land from Ivor for an eco-house and the subsequent discovery of the grave there.

She wondered about Stella and reminded herself to call Mackie to explain that she’d been sent across to Hoy today and that she’d be back in touch about Ivor’s journal as soon as she returned.

But, for now, her focus must be on the Mowat family, in a totally different context.

Ivan was waiting for her on the pier, the stark colours of the police car behind him. She could imagine the speed with which the tragic story of Eilidh’s death had swept across Hoy like a tidal wave, to include neighbouring Longhope and Flotta.

Leading the way to the police car, he didn’t speak until they were both inside and heading away from the ferry terminal.

‘Liz, Eilidh’s mother, knows we’re on our way. Hugh contacted her immediately after he identified the body. He hasn’t returned to Hoy as yet. He’s due to be interviewed byDIFlett at the station later today.’

When Jo nodded her understanding, Ivan continued. ‘We need to get Eilidh’s story up to the point when she took the ferry to Houton against her mother’s wishes. Who she thinks picked her daughter up from there and took her to Kirkwall. Who Eilidh may have been meeting up with. A boyfriend? Or girlfriends? I’m hoping that having you there will make it easier for Liz to talk about her daughter. Warts and all. I’m happy to be the one who absents myself to make the pot of tea, if that helps,’ he added.

‘Do you know Liz personally?’ Jo checked.

Ivan indicated not. ‘Although she’ll be aware of my Hoy connections,’ he said.

Jo hadn’t concentrated on the route they’d taken from the ferry, but realized now that they were about to draw into the drive of a spacious and well-appointed modern bungalow, with a view out across Scapa Flow.

As their wheels crunched across the gravel, a figure looked outfrom the large front window, and by the time they’d both exited the car, the front door had been opened.

Jo hoped that there being only one other vehicle parked there meant that Eilidh’s father wasn’t yet back from the North Sea, and that she would be able to chat to the mother on her own.

On being welcomed into the sitting room and urged to take a seat, Jo suspected that Liz Mowat was in a state of disbelief as to why they were here. That she still held out hope, despite everything, that her daughter might yet walk in on them, even as Jo offered their condolences on her daughter’s death.

Jo had viewed such a reaction before, and understood the reason behind it.

Unlike Hugh, Liz hadn’t viewed her daughter’s body in the mortuary, so her mind clung to the memory of the last time she’d spoken to Eilidh, alive and well.

‘She was cross with me, of course,’ she was saying. ‘Because I wouldn’t let her go out with her friends in Kirkwall last night.’

‘Tell me about her friends,’ Jo said.

‘Eilidh goes’ – she stumbled – ‘went to Stromness Academy. She had friends there and also at Kirkwall Grammar.’

‘Anyone in particular?’ Jo said.

‘A couple of girls. Zoe Marshall in Stromness. And’ – she hesitated – ‘Helen Mowat, whose family now live in Kirkwall. She’s Harald Mowat’s granddaughter,’ she added, distaste in her voice.

‘You didn’t like Helen?’ Jo ventured.

She shook her head in denial. ‘I did, I do like Helen. She and Eilidh are second cousins, of course, but they’ve also been pals since they were wee. I don’t like Helen’s older brother, Ragnar, though, or her father, Max.’