Chapter 5
The house lay in darkness. He knew Rory wouldn’t be there, but he would have welcomed a guiding light on his route home.
Entering the deep darkness of the kitchen, he flicked on the light switch, his eyes complaining at the sudden change in circumstance.
The place was as he’d left it this morning. The remains of a hurried breakfast and obviously late departure. As he sat to pull off his boots, he noted a piece of paper lying on the floor behind the door.
Rising, he went to see what it was.
There was no envelope, although it had been folded three ways as if to be put in one.
Intrigued now, he opened it, wondering if it might be a message from one of his near neighbours.
The note was in capitals, written in what appeared to be a shaky hand, real or disguised.
THE LASS’S NAME IS STELLA
Erling stared at this, perplexed. ‘The lass’s name is Stella,’ he repeated out loud.
Which lass?
He didn’t doubt the whole of Orphir already knew where he’d spent the day and why. And what had been found buried next to the old Mowat croft. Which led to the distinct possibility that the note referred to the female body discovered on Hoy.
So who had put the note through his door claiming to know the first name of the victim? And why not report it to him officially?
Rory had suggested on a number of occasions that he have security cameras installed at Langwell to catch any uninvited guests.
‘After all, you’re a police officer,’ he’d said. ‘Who has pissed off a number of folk at various times.’
Which was true, of course, although Erling had been quick to remind him that policing a close-knit community such as this one required less of the ‘us and them’ approach that you often found in city policing.
At that point, Rory had reminded him, ‘You forget that I’m speaking as a former one of “them” in your “us and them” scenario.’
Rory had had a few run-ins with the law back in Liverpool before he’d turned his life around to become a professional scuba diver, now working out of the nearby Flotta oil terminal.
‘I’ll consider installing a security camera at the front door,’ Erling had finally conceded, although it hadn’t happened as yet.
Now, gazing at the note, he sort of wished it had. Although he suspected that news of a security camera being installed at Langwell would have swiftly done the rounds, and this note would never have been put through his letterbox in the first place.
Heading for the bedroom, he considered a quick shower, then decided against it.
After all, there was no one waiting for him in the bed.
So the morning would do just as well. The last thing he noted as he drifted off was the face of the moon now captured in the tiny window of the thick-walled cottage.
The rising sun streaming through the same window wakened him earlier than he would have chosen. But unlike the previous day, instead of rolling over, he rose immediately.
A brisk shower, then into the kitchen, where he took advantage of the early hour and made himself a cooked breakfast of bacon, egg and black pudding.
While he ate, he studied the note from last night again. Wondering now if perhaps a fingerprint might be lifted from it and run through the database. Although this did feel pretty extreme for such a happenstance.
Then again, whoever had written the note did appear to be claiming knowledge about the identity of the Hoy victim.
He stood up and, transferring his dishes to the sink, went to fetch an evidence bag from his study. His intention being to take the note to the station and have it logged in as possible evidence.
He then called Tommy, who, as a farmer, would already be well into his day by now. That thought was proved right when Tommy answered straight away.
‘What is it, son?’ he said against a background of outside sounds.
‘Can you do me a favour, Dad?’ Erling said. ‘Could you sketch me a family tree for the Mowats?’
‘I think I can manage that,’ Tommy said. ‘Back as far as Ivor, I take it?’
‘His parents, if possible?’ he said.
‘Okay,’ Tommy told him. ‘I’ll have a go.’
‘Thanks, Dad. Also, have you heard the name “Stella” associated in any way with the Mowat family?’
‘Stella? Can’t say I have,’ Tommy said after a moment. ‘Although I can’t be certain there wasn’t a Stella somewhere in the lineage.’
‘You said Kris is the youngest member of the family. Is he the only great-grandchild?’ Erling asked.
‘Not certain,’ Tommy said. ‘Why are you asking about a Stella anyway?’
Erling explained about the note and was rewarded with a studied silence.
‘You still there, Dad?’ he asked after what felt like a long wait.
‘I am. And this note was definitely delivered by hand?’ Tommy checked.
‘Well, it wasn’t the postie,’ Erling confirmed. ‘Any suggestions?’
A further silence followed as though Tommy was considering what he might say. This time Erling held his peace and, eventually, he was rewarded.
‘Auld Mackie, who lives on the hill along the road from you. The white house with the steep drive up. He’s in his nineties now. He wasn’t at the funeral, although he and Ivor were pals at one time.’
Tommy waited as though expecting Erling to confirm a memory of Auld Mackie, which he found himself unable to do.
When he was a teenager, and before he left for university and a life off-island, he’d barely registered the older folk living alongside them in Orphir.
He’d only been at Ivor’s funeral because of the connection with his own grandfather, who he’d been fond of.
So he knew the house Tommy referred to, but he’d never been inside, although he’d smelt the peat smoke that rose from its chimney often enough.
‘You think he delivered the note?’ he said.
‘Mackie’s housebound now, so no, but he could have got someone to deliver it for him.’
‘Okay, I was planning to chat to my near neighbours anyway. I’ll drop in on Mackie,’ Erling told him.
‘Park at the road end. The drive’s way too steep for a vehicle.
Open the front door and shout your name.
He’ll give you leave to enter.’ A brief silence followed, then, ‘He’ll try to keep you there.
And he’s unlikely to give you the information you’re looking for until he’s ready. So be patient,’ Tommy told him.
‘Okay,’ Erling said, already considering his next move on this.
Ending the call, he immediately made another. This time to DS Green.
‘Can you come pick me up, Sergeant?’
He’d told Jo when he’d stepped out of the vehicle last night that he would take his own car in the morning. Despite this, Jo didn’t enquire about the change of plan.
‘Sure thing, sir. I’ll head your way now.’
‘Maybe she thought I’d taken to drink after yesterday,’ he mused out loud as he ended the call.
Taking himself outside and up to the road, he stood for a moment to survey his surroundings, actively counting those dwellings close enough for someone to deliver the note on foot.
The trouble was it could just as easily have been delivered by car, from anywhere on Mainland.
After all, he’d been away all day yesterday on Hoy.
He ran through the list of his near neighbours, remembering that at least two of the dwellings were now Airbnbs. Which left three permanently occupied, one of which was Mackie’s place.
At this point he decided he and Jo would check in with Auld Mackie first and he would give the other two to PC Tulloch if, in fact, Mackie turned out not to be the culprit.
He was studying the distant Hoy and wondering whether the SOCO team were already over there when he spotted the police car cresting the hill, with Jo at the wheel.
Climbing in, he explained about last night’s missive and indicated the evidence bag.
‘Tommy thinks that Auld Mackie along the road might shed some light on its delivery,’ he told Jo. ‘Apparently he likes to talk so . . .’
She gave him the look he was beginning to know well.
‘So that’s why I’m here,’ she said. ‘And here’s me thinking you had a hangover.’
‘Two whiskies with Tommy, where he told me a bit more about the Mowat family. Then I walked home and went straight to bed. After I’d read that.’ Erling gestured to the evidence bag.
His father was right, he thought, as he asked Jo to draw in just short of the drive entrance. Taking a vehicle up the almost-vertical slope would be a nightmare. As would turning it to come back down.
Approaching the cottage on foot, they found a further three steep steps to the front door. As Tommy had suggested, Erling advanced up the steps and, opening the door, shouted a loud hello and gave his name.
‘What happened to the detective inspector bit?’ Jo said.
‘He’ll know that already,’ Erling told her.
A moment’s silence followed his announcement, before a deep voice called out in return. ‘Come away in, Inspector. Just follow the scent of the fire.’
The warm peaty smell met them on entry, guiding them down a narrow hall and into a small sitting room, where a man sat in a high-backed chair in front of a glowing fire.
He turned a little in order to greet them, then waved them to a nearby settee.
‘Take a seat, Inspector Flett and . . .’ He paused, waiting to be introduced to Jo.
Jo obliged him with, ‘DS Jo Green, Mr Mackie. Pleased to meet you.’
‘Auld Mackie will do weel enough,’ he said. ‘I’ve earned it. Ninety-three, soon to be ninety-four. Almost as old as Ivor Mowat.’
At the mention of Ivor, Erling realized he had likely come to the right place, which soon proved to be true.
‘You got my note, then?’ Auld Mackie said. ‘I asked Yvanna, my home help, to put it through your letterbox.’
‘You didn’t sign it?’ Erling tried.
‘I knew a detective like yourself would work it out, and you did.’ He laughed a deep belly laugh.
‘My father suggested it might be you,’ Erling told him honestly.
‘Tommy was my back-up plan,’ Mackie admitted.
All that cleared up, Erling began. ‘You said in the note that the lass’s name was Stella?’
‘Aye. I wrote that,’ Mackie confirmed with a nod.
‘Which lass did you mean exactly?’ Erling said.
Auld Mackie shot him a look. ‘Ye ken fine I meant the lass you found buried next to the old Mowat house.’
‘Why do you think it’s her?’ Jo said.
Auld Mackie gave her an appreciative look. ‘I didn’t know Stella,’ he said with a smile. ‘But Ivor did.’
‘He spoke to you about her?’ Jo said in an encouraging voice.
This was the invitation Mackie had been waiting for, Erling realized, as the old man leaned forward in his high-backed chair.
‘Aye, he did. He was quite taken with her, but he was much too young. Him being twelve at the time.’ He laughed. ‘First love. Nothing quite like it.’
‘She was staying with his family?’ Jo suggested.
He shook his head. ‘No. The old Mowat place was full already. Four sons plus their parents. Far as I remember, she was billeted somewhere nearby on Hoy.’
‘She was a soldier, then?’ Jo asked.
He shrugged. ‘She was there because of the war, in some fashion or another.’
‘And she visited the Mowat place?’ Jo said.
‘Aye. That’s how Ivor met her,’ he said. ‘I think she was there for one of the older brothers. There were three of them. Billy, Geordie and Ian. Ivor had no chance against them.’
‘Did Ivor ever mention her surname at all?’ Jo tried.
‘He just called her Stella. And then she disappeared one night, and he never saw her again.’