Chapter 30
As the Orkney Mainland began to retreat and the hills of Hoy to dominate the skyline, Jo decided she would try to put thoughts of DS Gowan’s imminent arrival out of her head, at least for the duration of the crossing to Longhope. Although she wasn’t sure that was actually possible.
She’d already brought Ivan up to date with the goings-on the night before at the Stromness Hotel, during their journey to Houton together. His reaction to the disappearance of Rachael Everett had matched her own. ‘I hope to God it was Kris Mowat who came back for her,’ had been his exact words.
Once the ferry was well on its way, Ivan had gone to chat to the crew regarding the body at Lyrawa and the burning of Ian MacDougal’s digger.
The young police officer seemed to be able to extract information from the general public without giving anything away himself.
He was, Jo thought, a detective in the making.
Just as well, then, that Erling had sent Ivan to Hoy with her, rather than have him pick up DS Gowan from the Scrabster ferry.
Such a thought sent a shiver down her spine. Just as the boss’s first mention of Gus’s name had done. Something she was sure Erling had taken note of, although he hadn’t questioned her about it as yet.
She’d worried about the possibility of that happening last night, when he’d insisted on buying her a fish supper in Stromness before she headed home. He hadn’t mentioned it, which had made her feel even more guilty.
Looking out at the white-topped waters of Scapa Flow, she now wished she’d admitted to knowing DS Gowan right away, and simply said they hadn’t got on. Which in itself was a lie, because they had got on very well, for a time at least.
To stop her thoughts moving back into that dark place, she rose and went out to stand on deck. Getting her bearings, she registered that they were about to pass the island of Cava, with Lyrawa Bay ahead, above which the blackened and burnt hillside was clearly visible.
She was aware that the stretch of water around the northern part of Cava concealed a number of sunken wrecks of Second World War ships. It was a popular location for divers – there was a dive boat there now, but it was too far away to make note of anyone onboard or in the water.
Cava itself was no longer inhabited, but it had an interesting history. She planned to visit it sometime, although it wasn’t a scheduled ferry stop. So she would have to find someone with a boat willing to take her there.
With this thought, Magnus Pirie came to mind.
She’d first encountered the Professor of Criminal Psychology when he’d aided the police during her first major investigation in Orkney.
He’d mentioned back then that he had a small boat anchored in the harbour at Seaview next to Houton pier.
Perhaps she could ask him about a possible visit to Cava?
That idea was swiftly swept away as the golden sands of Lyrawa Bay came into full view.
Taking out her mobile, Jo brought up the images of the burnt body on the beach sent them by Willie Halcro.
In their discussion about this, she recalled that Erling had questioned whether the victim had arrived at the beach from the burnt hill behind, or perhaps from a nearby boat or island even?
Pulling up an online map of the area, she noted that there were in fact two islands in the vicinity. Cava, which they were currently passing, and the smaller and also uninhabited Rysa Little, south of Lyrawa Bay and much closer to Hoy.
At this moment, Ivan appeared alongside her. Observing his expression, she asked if he’d learned anything from the crew.
‘Come back inside and I’ll tell you.’
Once settled in a quiet corner, and keeping his voice low, he began.
‘There’s a lot of chatter going round Hoy, Longhope and also on Flotta.
We’re talking about three parallel stories.
First, the discovery of the remains at the old Mowat place, which folk think spurred the burning of the digger, which led to the hill fire.
As you can imagine, locals are well displeased about that.
Also, folk are questioning why Ivor apparently sold the croft in secret to southerners to build an eco-house there in the first place. ’
He continued. ‘Then there’s the body on the beach.
Most folk seem to think it’s Kris Mowat, because Ivor was going to give Kris all his money, and the rest of the family didn’t like that.
And now that folk know what happened at the will reading .
. .’ He tailed off, before adding, ‘Although there’s no evidence as yet that the body is Kris?
’ He eyed her, as if checking she hadn’t omitted to tell him something.
‘The DNA results aren’t expected before Monday at the earliest,’ she assured him.
He nodded at that. ‘Right. Number three. Seems there are rumours doing the rounds that county-lines gangs from down south are bringing drugs into Flotta and the dead guy was mixed up in that. Which is why he died.’
‘Well, the first two stories pretty well match our own thoughts,’ Jo said. ‘As for the third, Leo Strachan did say there had been an influx of drugs coming into Kirkwall. And Max Mowat, Harald Mowat’s son, was up in court in Aberdeen not long ago on a drugs charge and got off.’
‘How come I didn’t know that?’ Ivan said, puzzled.
‘The boss just heard it from Prof Pirie. It seems Magnus gave evidence at the same trial. DI Flett will no doubt mention it at the briefing this morning, which we’re missing.’
Ivan assumed a pensive air. ‘The boss was right. We’ll likely learn more being over here than on Mainland.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ Jo said.
Emerging from the ferry, they spotted Willie Halcro waiting for them.
‘We’ve got you set up at the fire station,’ he told them. ‘There’s nowhere suitable near the crime scene itself. PC Tulloch knows where the station is,’ he added. ‘I’ll meet you there.’
Approaching the fire station car park, they found it busy. ‘Assuming there hasn’t been a call-out,’ Ivan said, ‘then I think they’re likely here to speak to us.’
Ivan was right. As soon as Willie had them installed in the staff area with a mug of tea each, he asked if he could start sending folk in. ‘Some of them have been here a while,’ he explained.
‘I suggest you take the lead,’ Jo told Ivan. ‘I’ll listen in. Then we can compare notes later.’
Ivan acknowledged her suggestion with a nod. ‘Let’s make a start, then.’
During the next three hours, they had a stream of folk keen to give them their take on the burial at the Mowat croft, the firing of the digger, possible sightings of Kris Mowat and the identity of the dead man at Lyrawa Bay.
Their original plan for Jo to listen while Ivan asked the questions was soon abandoned to be replaced by them parting company, with Jo moving to the other side of the room.
This became the catalyst for a division of the sexes.
For the most part, the females came to her, the males to Ivan.
Although a few of the older men did decide she was the better option.
The local population were obviously eager to help with the enquiry and also keen to learn anything they could in return.
Much of what was offered was their view on ‘the nonsense’ that had happened at the Mowat croft.
Mostly caused, they thought, by a family feud currently waging among the Mowats.
The one quote that struck Jo most strongly mentioned Ivor leaving Hoy ‘to live in an old folks’ home in Kirkwall, which probably saved his life, for a while anyway’.
When asked to explain his thoughts on this, the man had said, with a shake of his head, ‘Families, eh?’
The elderly woman who now stood before her was the last in her queue. Glancing over at Ivan, Jo noted he was down to two men, both elderly.
‘Please take a seat,’ Jo said with a smile, which wasn’t returned.
The woman did this, adjusting her chair so that she had her back to the man currently at Ivan’s table.
Now she leaned towards Jo, her expression full of trepidation.
‘Are you feeling okay?’ Jo asked, perturbed by her demeanour.
The woman gave a brief nod. ‘I don’t want them’ – she gestured towards the men with Ivan – ‘to hear what I have to say.’
‘Okay,’ Jo said quietly. ‘What is it you need to tell me?’
‘The boy, Kris, Betty Mowat’s son,’ she said in almost a whisper. ‘I know who his father is.’ She remained forward in the chair, still focusing on Jo. ‘Betty was only a lass when she got pregnant. I know who did that to her.’
Jo felt her pulse quicken, although a part of her was already thinking that this could be mere gossip, designed to attack someone the woman might have a grudge against. Or was she about to accuse her husband of impregnating Betty?
As she waited for what might come next, the woman gestured to the notebook and pen. Reading her meaning, Jo pushed both towards her. The woman wrote something on the page then slid the notebook back.
Jo stared at the name in consternation, then at the woman.
‘Now you know what’s been going on here and why,’ the woman said, before rising and heading for the door.