Chapter 8
When the call went again to voicemail, Erling left a message asking that Kris Mowat ring either this number or Kirkwall police station, as DI Erling Flett required to speak to him in reference to his deceased great-grandfather Ivor Mowat and the recent discovery of the buried body of a woman and child on Hoy.
If Kris wasn’t to be persuaded to call back regarding Ivor, he would surely do so on the mention of the bodies?
Not long after he’d completed this terse message, Jo appeared, the look on her face suggesting something more may have happened after he’d left the two women alone together.
‘Let’s head for the car,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you on the way back.’
Keeping to her word, Jo waited until they were clear of the town and on the direct route to Kirkwall. In the interim, Erling had the distinct impression his DS was replaying whatever engagement she’d had with Rachael Everett after he’d departed the room. And, he decided, was distressed by it.
He understood why when Jo began with the revelation of the pregnancy.
‘So that’s why she was being sick,’ Erling said, surprised. ‘I was concerned that we’d frightened her in some way.’
‘She was frightened all right, but not just of us.’ Jo paused. ‘It seems Kris didn’t take the news of the pregnancy very well, and that was what prompted his departure.’
Erling glanced sideways at his DS, perturbed by her tone.
‘She thinks he walked out on her because of that?’ Erling said.
Jo nodded. ‘But there’s something else. Remember at the beginning she said she thought something bad might have happened to him? Then she retracted that?’
‘I do,’ Erling said. ‘After which we got the story that Kris had arrived in Orkney fully expecting to find Ivor alive.’ He paused there for a moment, before adding, ‘So none of the family, including its most senior member, Hugh Mowat, thought it important to inform the youngest member, Kris, of the patriarch’s passing. ’
‘Families,’ Jo said ominously, ‘and how to avoid them. Or maybe survive them?’
Erling thought about Tommy and how things had been between them after his mother’s passing. To divert those thoughts, he said, ‘Did you get on with your family back in Caithness?’
‘Let’s say that the Pentland Firth between us has proved advantageous,’ Jo said. ‘At least I can go out on a date now without the whole of Caithness and my father knowing about it.’
‘What about the whole of Orkney?’ Erling said.
Jo shrugged. ‘They only know me as DS Green. They know nothing of my past history with men or anything else,’ she said with a half-smile.
‘What they don’t know, they’ll make up. You do realize that?’ Erling told her.
‘I find I prefer that,’ Jo told him firmly. ‘For now, anyway.’
Reaching the police station, they found Hugh Mowat had already arrived.
Erling was in two minds whether to speak to him in an interview room or in his office.
He decided on the latter, seeing as no crime had been committed, apart from one eighty-odd years ago, perhaps, before even the now eldest Mowat had been born.
Hugh Mowat, he registered on entry, was a man of considerable build. Easily over six foot tall, broad-shouldered with a ruddy complexion and a still decent head of hair. No longer wearing the dark suit, he was dressed today more like a farmer than a pall-bearer.
Plus he looked comfortable in himself and with being in a police station. Not the usual state of affairs, although Erling had learned through time that it was often the innocent who looked most uneasy when entering the place.
The usual greetings over, and seated now with his desk between them, Erling decided to begin with the question currently uppermost in his mind.
‘Young Kris Mowat seems to have gone missing and his girlfriend, Rachael, is getting worried about him. I wondered if you’d seen Kris since the funeral yesterday?’
Hugh looked taken aback by this surprise opening, but swiftly gathering himself, answered. ‘I didn’t see Kris at the funeral, but I heard he went to the wake at the Kirkwall Hotel,’ he said in a straightforward manner.
‘It appears no one informed Kris that his great-grandfather had died,’ Erling said. ‘He only found out about it when he landed at Kirkwall airport.’
‘But why was he in Orkney, then?’ Hugh said, sounding puzzled.
‘For a meeting with Ivor, his girlfriend says. Regarding family business.’
‘Family business? That old—’ Hugh halted there as though he might say too much.
‘That old what exactly?’ Erling said, his tone light.
‘Ivor, as well you know, was a mischief maker of the first order. That’s how he kept us all in check.
’ Hugh shrugged as though well used to whatever shenanigans Ivor Mowat had got up to in his role as patriarch of the Mowat clan.
‘Anyway, I’ll put the word out, see if we can locate young Kris.
Assuming he’s still in Orkney, that is.’
Accepting this promise at face value, for the moment at least, Erling said, ‘Kris’s plan, according to Rachael, was for them both to remain here until the will is read out on Friday.’
The ruddy countenance got ruddier as Hugh shook his head in disbelief.
‘What nonsense has that auld bugger been up to now?’ he muttered as though to himself.
Erling gave him a moment before he raised the topic he’d actually called Hugh in to talk about.
‘I’d like to ask you some questions regarding the coffin found at the Mowat croft house,’ he began.
Hugh nodded. ‘The shock was as much mine as poor Ian’s when he unearthed it,’ he said, seemingly relieved at the change of topic.
‘I don’t doubt that,’ Erling said. ‘What I wanted to ask was were you aware of a story about a young woman called Stella, who visited the family croft during the war years? And who subsequently went missing?’
Hugh shook his head, both at the surprise question and its contents.
‘Assuming we’re talking about the Second World War, Ivor is – was,’ he corrected himself, ‘the only one left from that era.’
‘And he never told you stories of back then?’ Erling tried.
‘Oh, he was a teller of tales all right,’ Hugh responded.
‘Fact or fiction, you were never quite sure which. You’d be better to speak to the residents of the care home.
No doubt he regaled them with his war stories and much else besides.
’ He shook his head at the thought. ‘Anyway, are you thinking the lass in the coffin might be this Stella?’
‘We’re pursuing that as a possibility.’ Erling didn’t explain why.
‘And the peedie bairn?’ Hugh asked.
‘We believe it to be a boy.’ Erling was aware that news travelled fast here, which meant Hugh probably knew this already.
‘God, how did they both end up buried there?’ Hugh said.
‘That’s the question I want answered. With your family’s help, of course,’ Erling added.
‘But surely the death’s so long ago that it can’t be prosecuted, even if it was suspicious?’ Hugh said.
‘We have a duty to at least try to find out what happened, and when,’ Erling said. ‘Although that would perhaps have been easier had Ivor still been alive.’
A moment’s silence followed, then . . .
‘Can I ask who told you about this Stella being a visitor to the family home during wartime?’ Hugh asked.
‘Auld Mackie, along the road from me in Orphir,’ Erling said, watching Hugh’s reaction as he did so.
Hugh seemed to consider this, before nodding. ‘Aye, Mackie and Ivor were pals back in the day, but they fell out. Badly. Hadn’t spoken in years.’ He shrugged. ‘Ivor fell out with everyone eventually.’
Erling absorbed this without comment.
‘So,’ Hugh said. ‘What’s happening about the work on this new eco-house Ivor organized behind our backs?’
‘It can’t begin until we’re finished with the site,’ Erling confirmed.
‘Good, because we plan to challenge the sale of the family croft. Ivor wasn’t right in his head at the end, and we aim to prove that,’ Hugh told him firmly.
As Hugh went to rise, Erling motioned him to wait.
‘Is there something else, Inspector?’ Hugh asked.
‘There is, Hugh,’ Erling confirmed. ‘As I said, we’re keen to establish the identity of the female and child buried on your family croft. You could help us by giving a sample of your DNA, to eliminate the possibility that the woman, or indeed the child, was a member of the Mowat family.’
A series of emotions crossed Hugh’s face. Surprise at the request, followed by a spark of annoyance and, for a brief moment, worry. Then Hugh laughed.
‘You think the baby might have been sired by a Mowat?’
When Erling remained silent, Hugh said, ‘Okay, Inspector. If you can’t work out who the girl was yourselves, you can sample my DNA. Plus I’ll ask around. See if any of the family recall the story of a girl called Stella from wartime Hoy who got herself pregnant.’
Erling watched the door close behind Hugh and the recently summoned DS Green, and found himself relieved to see the back of the man.
He’d known of Hugh Mowat, just as he knew of countless other men who made up the local male population of Orkney. However, unlike many, Hugh Mowat had never been on the wrong side of the law.
And he wasn’t now, Erling reminded himself. In fact, he’d been helpful, although he was pretty sure he’d only heard a fraction of what Hugh Mowat might have told him.
It was Hugh’s final remark that had annoyed him, he realized. The throwaway line about Stella, who got herself pregnant.
Okay, the man was seventy years old, but what century was he living in?
His thoughts returned to Rachael, who had also got herself pregnant, which had seemingly freaked out her boyfriend, Kris.
Then he thought of that lonely grave Rachael had visited on the hill above Lyrawa Bay.
It too belonged to a young woman who had got herself pregnant and was deserted by the man who had performed that miracle.
And had hanged herself because of it.