Chapter 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 if PC Tulloch 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, DI Flett, 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. ‘The Angel can 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 from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner?’
‘It is,’ she said.
‘Then I promise not to kill an albatross en route,’ Ethan told her firmly.
This interchange appeared to ease the initial awkwardness between them, although she still wished Ivan had come along.
The young constable, familiar as he was with Hoy and many of its inhabitants, would no doubt have entered into a lively conversation with Ethan and gleaned more from the ferryman during the trip than she ever could.
Now, looking out from her place in the bow towards a fast-approaching Cava, Jo contemplated the fact that this was the trip she’d promised herself, although she’d thought she’d set sail from Houton Bay rather than Lyness. And with Magnus Pirie at the helm.
As they approached the golden sands of Lyrawa Bay, she found her eyes drawn again to the swathe of charred hillside above, even as the memory of its smell assailed her.
A wildfire killed more than just the surrounding vegetation, and the air on that hill had been thick with the aroma of the burnt feathers and flesh of small mammals.
Such a smell lingered long in the memory and still tasted on the tongue.
Perhaps reading her expression, Ethan suddenly said, ‘I don’t think the guy who started that fire is the one found dead on the beach.’
‘Who do you think fired the digger?’ she said. She’d heard a lot of theories since she’d landed on Hoy, she might as well hear his.
‘Just like I said back at Moaness. What the Mowats want, the Mowats get.’
‘So you believe someone in the Mowat family started the fire?’
‘Try Ragnar, Harald’s grandson, and Cameron’s Gary.’ When he noted her reaction to this, he added, ‘I see someone’s already alerted you to the terrible twosome. Plenty money. Not much sense.’
‘Where does the Mowat money come from exactly?’ she asked.
‘Lots of different places,’ he told her. ‘But if the rumours are right, and they’re not always right,’ he warned, ‘then the younger Mowats have discovered there’s more money in peddling drugs than in the family’s legitimate businesses.’
‘You think this boat you’ve seen might have something to do with that?’ Jo said.
‘Isn’t that why your boss okayed you to come out here with me?’ he countered.
The moment passed without her attempt at an answer, in part because she was beginning to question whether Ethan Howie was learning more from her than she was from him. Might he have brought her out here for that sole purpose?
She hadn’t felt like that with Maggie, but something about the interchange with Ethan made her feel uneasy.
His dislike of the Mowats seemed obvious.
Maybe too obvious. And he’d found a way to make her laugh and reveal that her father was a minister.
An item of information she didn’t give up easily.
His voice broke into her thoughts. ‘We can go ashore from here by dinghy. The boat was anchored a little further up the coast when I saw it.’
His announcement brought her back to the present with a jolt.
‘Did you spot anyone going ashore from the boat?’ she asked.
‘It was much darker than now, but I thought I saw a light moving between the boat and the shore. And there are derelict crofts in the vicinity,’ he added.
‘Like the old Mowat croft house?’
‘Exactly.’ He indicated she should get into the small dinghy he’d brought alongside. ‘You can swim?’ he added, resurrecting their earlier light-hearted tone as she lowered herself down.
Choosing to ignore the question, Jo kept her eyes firmly on the shoreline as he began to paddle.
Ethan joined her in her silence until they made the beach and, crossing the shingle, stepped onto the carpet of lush grass beyond. The light, she realized, was fading fast, the outline of the Angel Heart at anchor already blurring into what would swiftly become a scarlet sunset.
Keeping his voice low, Ethan beckoned her on towards the outline of a low stone building.
‘If they’re using Cava to stash drugs and were moored out there, then this place is definitely worth a look,’ he told her.
Following him into the remnants of the croft house, they were immediately plunged into darkness until they both produced light at the same time. Hers from a standard police-issue torch, his from a more powerful night searcher. Adjusting this to a less powerful glare, he swung it round.
They were in a partly roofed room with a small fireplace and what looked like bedding in the corner. When Jo went to look she discovered a sleeping bag and some food wrappings, reminding her of what they’d found at the Mowat croft.
‘You want to take these back with us?’ Ethan suggested.
‘I’ll take a couple of sample wrappers. If this is being used by your boat people, we don’t want to alert them to our visit.’ Producing an evidence bag and gloves, she made her choice and bagged it.
‘How easy is it for a visitor to Orkney to reach Cava?’ she checked.
‘The island is officially uninhabited, has been for a while, so not easy unless you know someone with a boat willing to bring you here. I suppose coming via a dive boat might be one way,’ he added.
‘Right, shall we check the outbuildings?’ she said.
Their continuing search proved unfruitful and Jo had the strong feeling that the items in the dilapidated building would turn out to be the same.
Who knew why the mystery boat had been anchored in the bay? If anyone had come ashore from it, they hadn’t left clues as to why they’d done so.
Such thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt when Ethan hissed at her to turn off her torch.
‘What is it?’ she whispered as she did as asked.
‘The mystery boat’s back,’ Ethan said, pulling her down to join him behind the wall of the ruined outhouse.