G R Jordan

Death of an Island Gigolo

A Highlands and Islands Detective Thriller #54

First published by Carpetless Publishing 2026

Copyright © 2026 by G R Jordan

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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or localities is entirely coincidental.

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First edition

ISBN: 978-1-918401-30-1

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The time has come when women should pay for a gigolo. Why should only rich men have young, beautiful women? Rich women should have young, beautiful men.

Ruth Westheimer

Contents

Foreword

Acknowledgments

Books by G R Jordan

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter 09

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

About the Author

Also by G R Jordan

Foreword

Welcome to Book 54 in the Highlands and Islands Detective Thriller Series, where Hope and the team are getting some life lessons in women and their needs from Perry. This one is set on the Isle of Lewis which, as far as I’m aware, doesn’t have a thriving male escort service. Enjoy and don’t think about what room you would prefer!

Acknowledgments

To Ken, Jean, Colin, Evelyn, John and Rosemary for your work in bringing this novel to completion, your time and effort is deeply appreciated.

Books by G R Jordan

The Highlands and Islands Detective series (Crime)

Water’s Edge

The Bothy

The Horror Weekend

The Small Ferry

Dead at Third Man

The Pirate Club

A Personal Agenda

A Just Punishment

The Numerous Deaths of Santa Claus

Our Gated Community

The Satchel

Culhwch Alpha

Fair Market Value

The Coach Bomber

The Culling at Singing Sands

Where Justice Fails

The Cortado Club

Cleared to Die

Man Overboard!

Antisocial Behaviour

Rogues’ Gallery

The Death of Macleod - Inferno Book 1

A Common Man - Inferno Book 2

A Sweeping Darkness - Inferno Book 3

Dormie 5

The First Minister - Past Mistakes Book 1

The Guilty Parties - Past Mistakes Book 2

Vengeance is Mine - Past Mistakes Book 3

Winter Slay Bells

Macleod’s Cruise

Scrambled Eggs

The Esoteric Tear

A Rock ‘n’ Roll Murder

The Slaughterhouse

Boomtown

The Absent Sculptor

A Trip to Rome

A Time to Rest

Cinderella’s Carriage

Wild Swimming

The Wrong Man

Drop Like Flies

Someone Else’s Ritual

None Too Precious

Save the King

The Silent War

Mage of the Dice

The Academy for Murder

Murder on the Quiet

Exit Stage Right

Lonely at the Top

The Jackpot Hoax

Bon Appetit

Death of an Island Gigolo

Run to Death (Sept 2026)

The Bus Shelter Killings (Nov 2026)

Seoras Macleod Mysteries

Seoras, They Shot Him!

Seoras, Grab the Kid!

Seoras, White Smoke Ahead!

Seoras, Cut the Wire

Seoras, Don’t Drink That! (Oct 2026)

Seoras, Pass the Sprouts! (Dec 2026)

Kirsten Stewart Thrillers (Thriller)

A Shot at Democracy

The Hunted Child

The Express Wishes of Mr MacIver

The Nationalist Express

The Hunt for ‘Red Anna’

The Execution of Celebrity

The Man Everyone Wanted

Busman’s Holiday

A Personal Favour

Infiltrator

Implosion

Traitor

Jac Moonshine Thrillers

Jac’s Revenge

Jac for the People

Jac the Pariah

Siobhan Duffy Mysteries

A Giant Killing

Death of the Witch

The Bloodied Hands

A Hermit’s Death

The Contessa Munroe Mysteries (Cozy Mystery)

Corpse Reviver

Frostbite

Cobra’s Fang

The Patrick Smythe Series (Crime)

The Disappearance of Russell Hadleigh

The Graves of Calgary Bay

The Fairy Pools Gathering

Austerley & Kirkgordon Series (Fantasy)

Crescendo!

The Darkness at Dillingham

Dagon’s Revenge

Ship of Doom

Supernatural and Elder Threat Assessment Agency (SETAA) Series (Fantasy)

Scarlett O’Meara: Beastmaster

Island Adventures Series (Cosy Fantasy Adventure)

Surface Tensions

Dark Wen Series (Horror Fantasy)

The Blasphemous Welcome

The Demon’s Chalice

Chapter 01

Jenny stepped off the bus and felt the light drizzle that had been plaguing the island for the last week. It wasn’t quite winter weather yet; it was still warm. But Lewis wasn’t basking in sunshine either; instead, this faint drizzle kept coming back. That was the joy of the islands, . . . and Scotland. You could get all sorts of weather. If you didn’t like it, wait half an hour for the next version.

She shouldered her bag and walked off towards the large house just up from the bus stop. It looked ridiculous. Stornoway didn’t have massive houses. Well, it does; let’s be fair, thought Jenny.

But the houses that were massive were older in style, more from the 1900s or 1850s. They didn’t look modern with their square corners, little arches, and balconies that no one could stand on. They were from a former time. The house in front of her—while not looking modern in the sense of being full of windows and wood—looked like a crass modern attempt at a house that said, ‘I’ve got money.’ As Jenny entered the driveway, she looked left and right at what were possibly hippogriffs? They sat on top of the entrance posts of the open gate.

Mr Dalgetty, her employer, wasn’t a man who was bothered about security. The man lived on his own, but he had a house that was big enough for a football team to live in. The houses alongside were not of such large proportions, and across the road was a set of houses that sat down a slope. But all the surrounding properties could clearly be described as truly Scottish housing. Though they were from the 60s and 70s.

This house, however, was from no part of Scotland. It had no identity with the island. The driveway, which was paved, swung round the side of the house, where a large BMW occupied pride of place. Jenny wasn’t good at identifying what type of car people had. That it was a BMW was enough for her; she’d never owned a BMW in her life and had always seen it as a rich man’s car. Except for those people who tried to get an old one and pretend they were rich, of course. Then people with money employed people like her.

Jenny had been working for Mr Dalgetty since he had bought this house, and if she was truthful, he was a nice man to work for. He wasn’t particularly old, maybe just reaching into his thirties. She remembered the first time she came to clean for him. He took her around the five-bedroom house, and she was amazed at the sheer size. But now, she was amazed that the house looked in the same condition inside, if slightly more worn outside.

It was as if Dalgetty barely lived in the place, but he did, albeit through the five bedrooms of the house. Jenny hadn’t known him back then, but she knew now. She wasn’t sure if she would still take the job if anybody else knew the secrets of the house she cleaned. She always wondered what they would think of her.

Jenny was an average islander. She’d grown up here, albeit with a name that many people didn’t see as traditional. But she’d gone to school just down the road. When she’d finished out, she got married and unfortunately lost her husband when he was only in his fifties. Now, she was making ends meet, still living in the croft house they had bought out in the Lochs area, and travelling on the bus to come and work for Mr Dalgetty.

The money was good, but Mr Dalgetty needed to trust you. Jenny wasn’t exactly sure why. She knew to a certain point. You see, Mr Dalgetty had women over. Jenny had seen none of them—not a single one. She had occasionally picked up some of their underwear or some garments that were associated with the bedrooms of the house. Oh, that had been a surprise.

Jenny remembered Mr Dalgetty’s look as she promptly burst out laughing, walking into the first room. It had been a dungeon, but a warm and rather comfortable dungeon. There were handcuffs on chains on the wall; there was an array of whips, and clothing that, well, looked like it came from some seventies low-budget fantasy movie.

Jenny had promptly burst into a fit of giggles. Mr Dalgetty, to be fair to him, had simply grinned. But he admonished her then, saying that she must never, ever, tell anyone of what was in these bedrooms. Jenny had promised. She needed the job and, in truth, he didn’t appear to be doing anything that wasn’t consensual, so what was it to her? He was going to pay her almost double what anybody else paid a cleaner. Maybe that was for the secrecy.

It was also true that Mr Dalgetty had charmed her. He was that way; oh, he could talk for the world, going on and on. But he was a handsome-looking man. He worked out; you could see that in his body tone. But he also knew how to charm a woman; he flattered Jenny, although he’d never tried anything, because he clearly wasn’t interested in her. And why would he be? Jenny was much older, and she wasn’t interested in him.

Jenny understood, though, why he would want to keep all of this quiet. The island could have a racist streak in it. Not everyone, and indeed many ethnic groups had settled over time. But Mr Dalgetty was not white. Jenny reckoned he had an Indian background, for he had that rich, coffee tone of skin, which Jenny just thought made him more attractive. His eyes sparkled with his crisp cut, black hair. Oh, he was a flirt all right. He was a looker, and he was a charmer, and he was a bit of a rascal in some ways. But Jenny liked him. And he paid well.

Jenny opened the front door of the house, which wasn’t locked. She knew this wasn’t always the case. Jenny could only come on certain days, and those were the days when Mr Dalgetty’s lady friend—or friends or whoever—wasn’t there. He had said as much, and she’d never asked beyond that, just asked what days. She knew, however, that the door was locked on other days.

She’d got caught short, missed the last bus and had tried the door, but the car had been gone as well and the house was locked. That was the only time she’d come unplanned. But she assumed then that Mr Dalgetty would not be amenable to visitors outside of the days he stipulated.

Opening the front door, Jenny stepped inside and gave a shout. ‘Mr Dalgetty! Mr Dalgetty! It’s Jenny, here to clean the rooms.’

There was no response. Jenny shook her shoulders. He wasn’t always in. Sometimes he was out getting the shopping or looking after that restaurant he had in the town. That restaurant must be doing so well, she thought, because, well, he’d bought this house. She remembered him down in the restaurant before he owned the house. He was living over the top of it but over time he clearly made money, and that money must have allowed him to get a mortgage on this palace.

Jenny wandered through the house out to the back to see if Mr Dalgetty was there. There was a conservatory-type room that extended out towards the back garden. However, it had blinds that could shield it completely from any prying eyes. In the middle of the conservatory room was a swish jacuzzi, and there was a sauna on one side. Jenny wished sometimes Mr Dalgetty would say he was away on business, and she could pop in and imagine herself lounging in the jacuzzi or sweating it up in the sauna. He had asked her about it once, asked her if she wanted to use them at some point, but Jenny didn’t think that was right. And she didn’t want to do it while he was there either.

He wouldn’t be bothered. She knew that Mr Dalgetty, being who he was, would probably stick his trunks on and jump in beside her. However, Jenny didn’t see herself wearing a bikini these days. No, she was too shy for that. She was older; the body wasn’t what it had been, and well, no! That was the long and the short of it. No!

Jenny went into the kitchen and then into a small room at the back, which held her cleaning utensils. She put on her pinafore and went to clean. The first room she went into was the dungeon, and again she took a moment to laugh. Who had a dungeon in their house? Jenny looked around it. It had certainly been used since she last had come in here. She always wondered about the timescale. Sometimes it was five days, sometimes it was seven, sometimes it was less than that. Jenny’d always have several rooms to do.

Did the women that Mr Dalgetty entertained actually work their way through all the rooms with him, or was he entertaining different women? Or was he entertaining men? she suddenly thought. She’d always thought that he was a ladies’ man when she saw him out and about in the town. At his restaurant, it was the women he chatted up. He wouldn’t make a move towards any of the men, but then again, you wouldn’t do. Although the island was a lot more liberal than it used to be, it still wasn’t the done thing for many people.

Jenny scrubbed the dungeon from top to bottom, mopping the floor, cleaning some of the equipment, as Mr Dalgetty called it, before she made her way next into the Edwardian bedroom. This was classy; this was Jane Austen on heat. And she liked this room. She could imagine a lady waking up here from those times, the maid knocking on the door and bringing in the morning tray. Then, having her servant come in to help her dress, while some young man was waiting outside.

Jenny laughed again as she scrubbed the place down. She hoovered it too. Something that wouldn’t, of course, have been done in those days. They’d have had to clean up differently. She wondered how accurate it really was. Who knew?

The next room was strange because it had a bed in it, but it looked like a gymnasium. There were weights here and there, various running or workout machines. Jenny spent a lot of time polishing down and taking the dust off, and also trying to sanitise the equipment again. Mr Dalgetty had pointed out to her once that there was an awful lot of sweat that went on in this room, and again, Jenny brushed it off, laughing. That was probably why he employed her. She never looked shocked at this stuff. She just found it funny.

With the gym bedroom done, Jenny walked into a princess palace. It looked more like what a kid would have, one of those eight-year-olds who went crazy at Disney. It was so over the top, so pink. Jenny just couldn’t get over how any grown women would enjoy this. But clearly, they did.

Jenny stood in the hallway, looking down at the four bedrooms. She was almost proud of herself. She worked hard on this house. The bedrooms were always the priority, first things to do, and the next one she would go to would be Mr Dalgetty’s own bedroom. It didn’t sit with the other four. It was on the other side of the house, and as she walked across, she called out, just in case he’d slept in.

‘Mr Dalgetty, Mr Dalgetty, are you there?’

There came no response, and Jenny picked up her cleaning utensils, opened the door, and walked in. She turned almost immediately and put her cleaning equipment down before turning and looking over towards the bed. Mr Dalgetty was lying on it. Then she noticed something.

He was almost spread-eagled. She couldn’t see the top of him, but could see his feet sticking up, for the bed was a fair size, and she was currently bending down with her utensils. But just beyond the feet, she could see that his arms were outstretched and one wrist was certainly handcuffed to the bed.

That’s kinky, she thought. Never had she seen anything in here. This was like a man’s bedroom, a bachelor’s bedroom. There was nothing in here that would be for a woman. Indeed, some of the posters on the wall were, well, quite spicy, Jenny would have said, all of younger women, in their twenties at most. It’s one of the other things that always made her think that he certainly wasn’t into men.

‘Do you want me to go, Mr Dalgetty?’ said Jenny. ‘I’m sorry if I woke you. Why are you handcuffed anyway? Did they leave you like that? Did they . . . There’s not somebody in here, is there?’

Mr Dalgetty said nothing. So, Jenny stood up gingerly and approached him, wondering if he was fast asleep or was this the state some woman had left him in.

As she got closer, Jenny suddenly gasped. There was blood across his chest. She thought for a moment she would run, but instead, curiosity getting the better of her, Jenny came closer.

Both of Mr Dalgetty’s wrists were cuffed to the bed, but sitting in the middle of his chest was a shoe. Stiletto, to be accurate, Jenny thought. And as she got closer, she realised the stiletto wasn’t sitting on top of his chest. It was embedded in it. Jenny let out an almighty scream.

‘Mr Dalgetty!’ she cried. She stepped forward, shaking him, but then immediately pulled her hand away. He was cold. Freezing. Jenny tried to take a breath, but she turned and fled from the room.

As she cleared it, she told herself, Calm down, calm down. We need to . . . we need to dial 999, she thought. She looked for the phone and ran down the hallway, but then stopped. Is this what Mr Dalgetty would want? People coming out, seeing his house like this, seeing him like that, seeing . . . And then she stopped again. ‘He’s dead, Jenny,’ she said to herself. ‘He’s bloody dead. You need to report this in case some people think you’ve done it, in case you get mixed up in it.’ She turned and ran again, grabbing the phone at the end of the hall.

‘Oh, dear God,’ she said as she dialled 999.

Chapter 02

‘Do you know something,’ said John, ‘I used to think you were gorgeous lying in bed first thing in the morning when you weren’t wearing a thing. But I think you’re even more beautiful with him there.’

Hope gave a smile. It was cheesy, but John was cheesy; that’s how he spoke. He didn’t try to be cheesy; it just came out with the smell of a French fromage storeroom. And it was quite something having her baby boy lying in front of her, trying to reach out to his mum. She was lying in her pyjama bottoms and crop top and doing her best to just try to do nothing except focus on her two boys.

‘But I love this,’ said John. ‘I crave seeing you with him. I do love—’

‘You don’t have to keep telling me,’ said Hope.

‘But I do,’ said John. ‘I really—’

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Hope.

‘What do you mean, “What’s the matter?” I just said I love seeing you with him. I—’

‘John, I’m actually a detective. Remember? What’s the matter? I mean, you’re saying this as if there’s a “but” coming. That there’s something wrong, that there’s—’

‘Well, I don’t want to say in front of Ian.’

‘You don’t want to say it in front of Ian? Ian doesn’t understand yet, okay? Ian doesn’t speak to me. He coos, he gurgles, he puts his hand out. He wants cuddles, but he certainly does not understand our conversations.’

‘It just doesn’t seem right saying it in front of him.’

‘Saying what?’

‘Well, what I want to say.’

‘John, would you just bloody well say it?’ said Hope, and then stopped herself. ‘I shouldn’t swear in front of him. That was wrong. That was—’

‘I miss when it just was you and me.’

‘You what?’ blurted Hope.

‘I miss when it was you and me. Don’t get me wrong, I love this little guy, but when it was you and me, there was lots and lots of—’

‘Oh, right,’ said Hope. ‘And you’re thinking there should be more of it.’

‘We don’t get any time, do we? I mean, we just don’t get any time to be . . .’

‘“Intimate” is the word you want. Is that it?’ asked Hope.

‘That’s a good word. Well, yes, intimate.’

‘Are you getting fed up with being at home?’

‘No, I’m not,’ said John. ‘I really am not fed up being at home. I’m fed up not being in this bed with you on your own at times. You know, if this wee guy would get to sleep, and then you would be here instead of elsewhere, well, then we could . . .’

‘Yes, we could,’ said Hope. ‘Maybe we should schedule in some—’

‘Schedule? No,’ said John. ‘We’re not scheduling that. How do you schedule it? It’s not the same. It’s not the same as when suddenly we just get in the mood and we just—’

‘But it’s not that easy anymore,’ said Hope. ‘You’ve got to pray he’s asleep at the same time as you get in the mood.’

‘There’s no time for us at the moment,’ said John. ‘Are you aware of that? There’s no time for us. You’ve got your time to be a detective, and I get that, and it’s work and it has to happen—it’s what brings in the money. And then there’s time for Ian because you never miss time for Ian, and I get that. You’re Mum, he’s little, he needs you right now. And I love him to bits. But you and I, we’re missing at the moment.’

‘I’ll find more time.’

‘How are you going to find more time? You come home; he’s here; he needs you. He needs you as much as anything else. He’s a wee baby. Of course, he needs his mum.’

‘You need me, too.’

‘Do you need me?’ said John suddenly.

Hope paused for a moment. She’d never thought about it that way. She’d never thought about it, and she’d gone back to work. It was all about looking after Ian and trying to get the balance right for the family. And she never thought about what she needed.

She looked across at John. He was tired. He seemed to be constantly tired at the moment, but he was carrying the bulk of the work between them, in fairness. And he was doing it without complaint. Well, at least until now. And even now he wasn’t complaining about the work; he was just . . . , well. Did she still need him?

‘Of course I do,’ said Hope.

‘Don’t say that. Don’t say what you think I want to hear. Say what you think, how you are,’ said John. ‘I can take it, you know. I’m a big boy.’

‘It’s not that I don’t want to, because, well, I do. It’s just that I just never seem to be . . .’

‘You can be the detective. There’s still time for that, okay? Then you come home and you’re Mum. You never, Hope. You’re never the woman I wanted to ravish. And who wanted to jump all over me as well.’

Hope nodded. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s not that I’m actively put off. You’re right, it’s just . . . it’s never the time; it’s never the place; it’s never . . . ’ She gave a sigh and looked down at the little one cooing up at her. ‘And yet he’s just . . . ’

‘He’s great,’ said John, leaning down beside little Ian, kissing him on the side of the head. ‘He’s ours; I love him to bits. But we’re losing each other in this. We’re losing who we were.’

‘Well, things are going to change,’ said Hope.

‘But not that much. We shouldn’t lose it like that. Not that much.’

‘I’ll try to get Seoras to come around more. I’ll see if we can schedule nights when it’s just the two of us. Nothing, you know, important. We’ll just go to the cinema, or we’ll go out and eat. We’ll do something. And if something happens, something happens, and . . . ’

‘Good,’ said John. ‘That sounds good.’

‘That’s if I can get Seoras, of course. He’s so gung-ho running around the world at the moment.’

‘We need to explain to him we need time off. He’s not doing his godfatherly duties. He’ll probably understand anyway,’ said Hope.

‘You’re not talking to him like this; you’re not talking—’

‘You’d be surprised how broad-minded he is. I mean, he’s fine. He’ll sympathise.’

‘No,’ said John. ‘Keep it simple. We want time off. He’ll park up, but then he’ll maybe sit here, and Jane will come round here. You don’t want that. We want to come back here, and well, you know. He’ll come here and try to solve us.’

‘Yes. Yes, I know. But we need him, so that’s what I’ll do. Okay, that’s what I’ll . . . ’

Her mobile phone rang behind her, and Hope rolled across, picking it up and seeing it was Ross.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Alan,’ she said. ‘But I am really not happy to hear from you. I was looking forward to today. This was going to be a whole day with the family.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said Ross. ‘We’ve had a body discovered on the Isle of Lewis, in Stornoway, in fact, in a house. Man with a stiletto driven through his chest. Mr Dalgetty. I’ve booked you on the next ferry, which, strangely enough, is the night ferry. We haven’t got much time. I’ll be around to pick you up in about thirty minutes. I’ve told the other two. They’re on their way; Jona’s already making tracks.’

‘Good. Does DCI Lambert know?’

‘I haven’t phoned her yet. Maybe you could give her a quick ring?’

‘I’ll wait until we hit the ferry. Then I’ll ring her.’

‘She won’t be pleased with that.’

‘She’ll take what she’s given,’ said Hope. ‘Don’t you dare repeat that to the rest of the team.’

‘Of course not,’ said Ross. ‘Thirty minutes.’

Hope gave a sigh, rolled back, and looked at John. ‘I’ve got to go, and I’ve got to go off to an island, and I’ve got to go tonight.’

‘Tonight? Where are you going?’

‘Lewis. Stornoway, to be exact. Flight’s gone.’

‘The flight’s gone?’

‘Flight’s long gone. We’re getting the overnight ferry.’

‘You’d better get packed then?’ said John.

Hope picked up little Ian and brought him close up to her. ‘I’m sorry, little one, Mummy’s got to go again. Take care of Dad, okay.’ She handed Ian over to John and then looked at the pair of them. ‘I love you both,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to go. I want to stay here. I want to . . . ’

‘Just go,’ said John. ‘Okay? Get your stuff together; you haven’t got long. Ross will be here; he’s always punctual.’

‘Alan’s always that, if nothing else. He’s got to leave his little one as well.’

‘I’m sure he has his problems,’ said John, ‘but it doesn’t help.’

Hope nodded and ran off into the shower. Five minutes later she was out, and began to dress and pack a bag. John was sitting, holding little Ian in the corner of the bedroom, watching Hope the whole time.

She looked at him staring at her. ‘You okay?’

‘No,’ said John, ‘but I’m enjoying what I’m looking at. Sorry, it’s missing you. I just . . . ’

‘I promise when we get back, we’re going to get Seoras down here. You’re going to have a night, and we will do whatever you want to do.’

‘No,’ said John, ‘we will do what we want to do like we used to, and it’ll go wherever it goes.’

She pulled her jeans on and went to get her jacket, but then turned back to John, walked over and sat on his knee. Hope took Ian off him, holding the little guy close, and then pulled John in, resting his head across her breast. She kissed the top of his head.

‘I scored lucky when I got you,’ she said. ‘A lot of men wouldn’t have this. Many men would make me stay at home. Many men would say it was my job.’

‘It was never your job, was it? It was our job to do this. You just had the better job, that paid more, one that was going somewhere. I wasn’t really—’

‘Yes you were, and you were on the move up, and it could have worked out for you, and you gave it up to be here for me and our little one. I’ll never forget that,’ said Hope. ‘When I get back, we are going to do what you want. I suspect I might enjoy it as well.

She tilted his head back and kissed him until she felt the slap of a tiny hand on the side of her face.

‘You want attention as well, do you? Like you’re always kissing daddy when you’re not getting any attention, you need cuddles. Come here, you.’

Hope pulled little Ian in tight and then got John to cuddle her at the same time. This was her little family. She hated to go away from them.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and John left Ian on the bed while he went to answer it. Hope soon heard Ross in the kitchen. She grabbed little Ian and walked through with her jacket and bag.

‘Are you all ready?’ asked Ross.

‘Not really. You ever find it tough going away?’

‘It’s hell,’ said Ross. ‘I don’t want to leave Angus, or my little one.’

‘Me neither. It’s difficult for those left behind,’ said Hope.

‘Why doesn’t Angus come over? The two of you usually have a decent time,’ said Ross to John, who had entered the room.

‘Yes, send him over.’

‘That wasn’t very enthusiastic,’ said Ross.

‘It’s not Angus he wants,’ said Hope.

‘And it’s not John that Angus wants,’ said Ross, ‘but that’s where we’re at.’

‘Don’t worry, it’s just a moment,’ said John. ‘You’re probably the same, you two.’

‘On the bright side,’ said Ross, ‘we’re about to find a killer who uses a stiletto. So won’t be that hard to track then.’

Hope laughed. ‘Who kills with a stiletto?’

‘Driven through the chest, apparently,’ said Ross. ‘I mean, can you even push that hard with those things? I’ve never worn any.’

‘Well, don’t,’ said Hope. ‘Never let them put you in a stiletto. It kills your feet.’

‘Why did you wear a stiletto?’ said Ross. ‘You’re six feet to begin with; you’re—’

‘Well, thanks for that, Alan, pointing out that I’m a ridiculously sized woman. Maybe you could point out my ridiculously red hair too.’

‘That’s not what I meant. Why would you wear them?’

‘Because sometimes, well, I think we feel insecure.’

‘You got to be insecure on top of a pair of stilettos,’ said John.

Hope turned and laughed. She liked that about him. He was blunt, but funny with it.

‘Why are you insecure?’ asked Ross.

‘She doesn’t realise what she is,’ said John, putting his arms around her and kissing her back.

Ross meanwhile had picked up little Ian and was playing with him before he turned to John. ‘I’ll get Angus to come round,’ he said, ‘and you’d better take this one; I’m not sure we can take him with us. I’ll give you a moment,’ said Ross, and left the kitchen.

‘You going to be all right,’ said Hope, putting her arm around John.

‘Don’t be long,’ he said, ‘just don’t be long.’

‘Well, Angus will come over.’

‘I don’t want Angus,’ said John. ‘I want the six-foot red-haired woman I fell for.’

‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ said Hope. ‘Trust me, I will.’

‘I know,’ said John. ‘I know you will.’

Hope kissed him one more time before leaving the room. Down in the car with Ross, she looked up and saw a little hand waving from a window. There was a bigger hand coaxing it to do so. She gave a smile and waved back.

‘I should have told you about this before you got pregnant.’

‘Well, truth be told , Alan, I didn’t really publish my plans for everyone.’

‘No, but it’s the hard part. It’s always the hardest part. I don’t think it gets any easier.’

‘That’s where Macleod was lucky. He never had any.’

‘No,’ said Ross. ‘Then again, you’re not him.’ He reversed the car and drove off towards the waiting ferry.

Chapter 03

Hope stood on deck as the ferry rolled into Stornoway. She passed by the expanse of water that had marked her first trip to the island. It was her first case with Macleod, and they’d ended up in the water together, her strong arms meaning he got safely back onto the lifeboat. But she never went past that place without feeling like they could have lost a lot more.

She’d barely known him then, and now he was gone. He wasn’t part of the team anymore. She was the senior; it was her team. And she found herself doing this more and more, stepping aside from the team, getting out of the way, being somewhere where she could think. The dawn was nigh, for it was the back end of summer, and the daylight still came early. There was a red in the sky though, so she wasn’t sure if the weather would hold.

Jona and her team had set off as quickly as they could, and they were also on the ferry. Hope knew that the local uniformed officers from Stornoway police station would have kept the area secure. It would be quite something. There’ll be cameras there, if not now, certainly in the days to come. Killed by a stiletto. That was news. Not important news that everybody needed to know, but news because it was entertaining. It was exciting and unusual.

She didn’t always like unusual. Those kinds of cases were sometimes harder to work out. She was also worried about John. If it hadn’t been so early, she’d have texted him. Sometimes, getting the wee man to sleep took ages, and you took all the shut-eye you could get. That was probably part of it with John. He always got that way when he was tired. Always wanted her. Well, he was tired all the time at the moment, so it wasn’t really a surprise, was it?

‘We’ll be getting in soon,’ said Ross.

Bang on time, Hope thought. He’s probably worked out how long it’ll take to get down to the car and then drive off. How long the ferry takes to come alongside. But she said nothing and simply made her way back inside, where Warren Perry and Sabine Ferguson were sitting. Perry looked as if he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. He never reacted well to call-outs like this. He’d been in his own place as well, not with Tanya. Hope could tell by the way he was dressed. Tanya would never let him go out like that.

The ferry docked, the ramp went down, and Hope and the team drove off with Jona’s wagon in the lead. It was less than a mile to the house in question, and rather than go to the station, Hope decided they would head straight away to the scene. On arrival, Hope was pleased to see that the scene was more than secure.

Several constables were on duty, of whom two were holding a line beyond which were two cameras. The Gaelic side of the BBC, Alba, was here and no doubt their cameras would be brought out for this. Even if it wasn’t reported in Gaelic on the bigger news stations, they were here and they were local, and that’s what mattered because nobody else would have been able to get over yet. But by tomorrow there’ll have been an influx. Hope didn’t look forward to that.

Pulling up outside the house, Hope stood for a moment, letting Jona talk to the sergeant first. When she saw Jona disappearing back to her wagon, she approached the man who was in his forties. ‘Sgt John McAllister,’ he said, ‘you must be the DI.’

‘DI Hope McGrath. Pleased to meet you.’

‘Well, I haven’t been up here that long, but the gang has done a good job. There are forensic officers, Miss Nakamura. She says she’s going to need about twenty minutes. However, still here is Jenny, the cleaner who found the body. Now I took her to get some food and that and kept her down at the station for a while. But I thought you’d probably come straight here off the ferry, and you’d want to talk to her. She’s had a bit of a sleep, but she’s still worked up. Mr Dalgetty was her boss.’

‘And Jenny is . . . ’

‘Jenny’s been on the island a long time; some of the other officers know her. Sad case in some ways; her husband died not that long ago—hard-working soul. Seemed to be very happy working for Mr Dalgetty. Be surprised if she’s involved in it, but you know, we never say never.’

‘I’ll talk to her now, then,’ said Hope, and then waved Alan Ross over. ‘I’m going to talk to the woman who found the body. You can sit in with me, Ross. Get Perry and Sabine to take statements from those on the perimeter. Anybody around here, all the neighbours. See if they saw anything or heard anything. All the usual.’

A couple of minutes later, Ross rejoined Hope as they sat down inside the house in one room near the front of the building.

‘Are you all right?’ Hope asked Jenny. ‘I’m DI Hope McGrath; this is DS Alan Ross. We just need to ask you a few questions. I assume it’s been quite an ordeal for you.’

‘It has,’ said Jenny. ‘To be honest, I’m a lot better now than I was then. It was quite a shock. To find him like that. But I’ve had tougher. I had to watch my husband die. You know, so, this is, well, it’s not pleasant, but it’s not the worst I’ve ever dealt with.’

‘And you worked for Mr Dalgetty?’ asked Hope.

‘I’ve worked for him ever since he moved into this house. He liked his secrecy, liked his calm, his privacy in here. But that wasn’t always the case. Mr Dalgetty,’ said Jenny, ‘owns the curry house, the one called Constantinople, in town, and he drives around in that flash BMW. Well, sorry, he drove around in that flash BMW. Obviously, he won’t anymore. He was quite a ladies’ man. But good with people, men too, you know, he had the rapport to keep people going. When he started off down at that curry house, he brought people in with his banter and his way with them. But it’s done really, really well because he’s bought this house with his success.’

‘It is big, isn’t it?’

‘Well, there’s nothing like it around here. I mean, it’s ridiculous,’ said Jenny. ‘I mean, God rest his soul, but it’s just a completely crazy place for one man living alone. No, I think he enjoyed bringing the ladies here.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, he lives alone in a five-bedroom house and if you go to the bedrooms, four of them are entertaining bedrooms.’

‘Entertaining?’ said Ross. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Well. He’s got a dungeon, he’s got an Edwardian bedroom, he’s got a sports gym-type bedroom, and he’s also got a princess bedroom. And then he’s got his own,’ said Jenny, looking down at the floor.

‘Why did you sort of tail off with that one?’

‘Because that’s the one I found him in,’ Jenny said to Hope. ‘He was . . . he was handcuffed in his own bed. That’s unusual. I’ve never seen that, not in there, although maybe he did. But the other ones, they were entertaining bedrooms.’

‘So, you think he brought women back to the bedrooms, specifically? Seems strange,’ said Hope.

‘I don’t know how people work these days. Back in my day, it was simple. You went to the dance with someone, and then, well, you let things happen, and the next thing you knew, you were married. Didn’t have any fancy bedrooms, but hey, everyone’s different.’

‘So what was your exact role in the house?’ asked Ross.

‘I cleaned it. He lived alone, and I would have been the only person who would come in, and only to clean. At least, I think so, not sure anybody else came in, or if they did, they’d have been kept to other parts of the house. Certainly, no one would have gone near those bedrooms. I mean, if people out there knew what was in them, there’d be a scandal. They’ll be making comments like anything, and Mr Dalgetty is, well, he’s not from the island. He’s not someone who could pretend he was from the island. You know, they’ve got gorgeous skin, that chocolatey type of skin. I mean, really, not true black but a sort of deep brown, the Indians. Quite a lustre to it. He was a very nice-looking man,’ said Jenny.

‘So, you came to clean yesterday, and that’s when you found him?’ asked Hope.

‘He always called me with my cleaning days. Sometimes they could be spread out, but I’ve always got to clean the bedrooms first. He wasn’t that bothered about the rest of the house, and I think that’s because, well, I believe he didn’t take anyone to the other parts of the house. But the bedrooms had to be spic and span, had to be done right. And they were; I cleaned them properly. And I told nobody about any of them. I’m telling you now because he’s dead, you know, and you need to know.’

‘And the bedrooms you believe were for entertaining women? Some sort of ploy when he gets them back to excite them or whatever?’ asked Hope. She was suddenly aware Ross was looking at her with a shake of his head. ‘No,’ said Hope, ‘it’s a reasonable question.’

‘Whenever I came in,’ said Jenny, ‘there was a full change of every sheet and pillowcase, and I had to clean the rooms top to bottom. The bedrooms. The other rooms he was not so bothered about. His own bedroom, not a high priority. Don’t get me wrong, I did other house-cleaning duties for him, but these were always the first things on the agenda.’

‘Do you know if he was seeing lots of different women?’ asked Hope.

‘I don’t know if he saw them all at the same time or how it worked, but I can tell you that there have been different women,’ said Jenny.

‘How do you know that?’ asked Hope.

‘Because we’re not all built the same, dear. I’ve sometimes found items left behind, and sometimes it’s been dress-up gear. Well . . . some of us are born bigger than others in some places,’ said Jenny. ‘And some of the stuff that’s been left behind, it’s been different. Different sizes and that.’

‘Okay,’ said Hope. ‘Do you think he was seeing women who were married?’

‘No idea,’ said Jenny. ‘He was a charmer, but I’ve never sort of seen anybody with him. Don’t know any of the women. Maybe they were married. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want anyone to know. I have no idea. He wasn’t . . . well, I would say he probably was looking for younger women, women in their twenties. Judging by the posters he had up on the wall of his bedroom. But some of these rooms, I don’t know if girls that age would be into them. Heck, I don’t know if women my age would be into it.’

‘Thank you for your time, Jenny,’ said Hope. ‘Don’t tell anybody anything; keep quiet about it all. If the press come to you for a comment, don’t talk to them. This could get quite sensational, and they may try to ruin Mr Dalgetty’s name. You clearly enjoyed working for him and thought he was a decent boss, so please protect his name for the time being. I might need to interview you again, but thank you for your time, and I’ll get one of the uniformed officers to run you home.’

‘If you need to know anything more,’ said Jenny, ‘I’m here. It’s a shame, though. Lovely man. Really lovely man. One of those rascals, you know, could be cheeky with you and yet you feel good afterwards. Proper ladies’ man, but a ladies’ man you like, not a sleazeball.’

‘Thank you,’ said Hope. She let Ross take the lady outside. On his return, Hope could see that he was looking a little concerned.

‘What’s up?’

‘Well,’ said Ross. ‘The early newspaper reports say that Mr Dalgetty was the island romantic, and that he was murdered by a spurned lover.’

‘Well, the fact that there’s a stiletto in his chest is going to be leaked. It’s probably out there already, so I can’t keep that quiet, but beyond the mere material facts, the obvious, we need to say nothing. We need to know more about Mr Dalgetty though.’

She stood up, walked outside and located Sabine, telling her to bring Perry with her. When they entered the house, Hope turned to them.

‘Go to Mr Dalgetty’s restaurant. It’s called Constantinople, down in the centre of town there. I want you to find out who works in it, all about them, and what they thought of Mr Dalgetty. And if any of them are potential suspects in this case.’

‘Well, it’s not even nine o’clock yet,’ said Perry.

‘We’ll finish the sweep of the houses around. We’ll let Jona get done as well. But by lunchtime be down at that restaurant, find out what’s going on. I’ve got to meet the chief inspector at Stornoway station around lunchtime. So, we’ll get that done, too. Then we might pull everybody back in. It’s weird, this one.’

‘Weird in what way?’ asked Sabine.

‘He’s clearly a man who likes to entertain women. But he has these four different bedrooms. You know. That’s not something most guys have as their thing. I mean, there’s the dungeon there, but then there’s an Edwardian bedroom. And then beside that, there’s a sport one. Most guys will have their thing that they like, or what they like to do, or maybe a way they like to dress up, or have a woman dress up. They don’t have a selection. They don’t build a selection of bedrooms. It’s more like a . . . ’

‘Sort of a fantasy-weekend-away place,’ said Perry.

‘You’ve been to many of them?’ asked Sabine.

‘You’d be surprised,’ said Perry.

‘I’d be completely surprised,’ said Sabine.

‘No, you got me, no I haven’t,’ said Perry, ‘but they exist.’

‘We all know lots of stuff exists,’ said Hope, ‘but we want to know what this is. He was also killed in his own bedroom. Jenny the cleaner said, “That’s his own bedroom.” He’s handcuffed. Now all the game-playing stuff happens in the other places. That’s his bedroom. It just doesn’t sit with me. Why is he dead in his bedroom? Why is he handcuffed in his bedroom? You’ve got a dungeon to go to, if you want that sort of thing. And then a stiletto. Just the one. Brought with them, or was it here? And I am sorry, how do you drive a stiletto through somebody’s chest?’

‘Well, I once knew a girl,’ said Perry, ‘and she could give you quite a good kick in the knackers. I mean, really . . . ’

‘Not essential,’ said Hope, looking at Perry. Sabine grabbed him by the arm.

‘We’re off. We’ll get sorted, then we’ll get down to the curry house.’

As they walked away, Hope received a nod from Ross before he too left the room. Hope gave a sigh when everyone had left. She was tired. She’d tried to grab some sleep on the way over, but hadn’t, and then gone outside on deck. It had been a long day. She’d been playing with little Ian. John had had his moment. She was exhausted.

But the case was on the go. It was time to solve it. Then she thought about John, at home, and about how he wanted her to be there, but right now there was work to do. The detective in her only wanted one thing, and that was to solve it. The guilt poured in immediately.

Chapter 04

‘Do you think it’ll be open? I mean, like for food.’

Sabine stared across at Perry in the car. ‘Thinking of your stomach again.’

‘I haven’t had anything.’

‘What?’ said Sabine.

‘I haven’t had anything.’

‘You had that burger when we left Inverness. You insisted we go via Donnie’s. That burger, remember?’

‘I just like to assure the guy that, you know, we don’t hold anything against him after the other incident.’

‘I don’t know how you can eat a burger after the other incident. You were that close to sticking people in your mouth.’

‘Yes, but I’ve had too many burgers over too many years. You can’t let something like that stop you. And we’ve all had munchies through the night. But look at me, I mean I’m looking good at the moment, aren’t I?’

Sabine looked Perry up and down. Perry was a jovial character in many ways. He was disorderly in his clothing, and he was very likable. But Perry was not an attractive figure to Sabine. She could understand why Tanya loved the man. There was a lot about Perry to like, but for his physical looks, he didn’t do it for Sabine.

‘You need to get fitter. You need to cut out the greasy food and get fitter.’

‘I didn’t ask for a lecture,’ said Perry. ‘I asked if you thought the curry house will be open?’

‘Well, that’s the plan, otherwise we’re going to an empty place, aren’t we?’

‘Yes, but I mean the boss has just died. That’s what I mean. Do you think it will be open? Not as during our opening hours.’

‘We’ll find out, won’t we?’

Sabine pulled the car up into the large car park beside the harbour. Walking across the road, they could see that there was activity within the curry house. The large word ‘Constantinople’ shimmered in gold against a purple background. Opening the door, Perry took a whiff and smiled. Someone was making curry. Food was on the go, and there seemed to be a small crowd in.

‘Hello,’ said Sabine, ‘I’m looking for the manager.’

‘Manager’s kind of busy,’ said a voice. ‘Got a bit of a rush on at the moment.’

‘Sorry, I should have shown you this. I’m DS Sabine Ferguson and this is DC Warren Perry. We’d like to talk to the manager and, indeed, most of the rest of the staff.’

‘Can you give me ten minutes?’ said the woman. ‘I’m Alison Hibbert, I’m the defacto manager. We’ve just got quite a few—’

‘You’re open for business,’ said Sabine, surprised.

‘Well, food’s already brought in; what are we meant to do?’

Perry sat down in one seat to the side. There were many tables within the smallish restaurant, and a serving bar.

‘What do you know then?’ said a voice. Sabine looked over to see a man staring at her.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Sabine.

‘I said, “What do you know?”’

‘Investigations are continuing.’

‘So you don’t know what happened to him.’

‘I’m very aware of what happened to him,’ said Sabine. ‘I’m not just going to tell everyone. Nice try, though.’

‘They say somebody stuck a shoe in him, like a big stiletto.’

‘Do they?’

‘Well, are they right?’

‘Investigations are continuing,’ said Sabine. The man wandered over towards Sabine, but Perry intercepted him, stepping up from his seat.

‘The sergeant said that investigations are continuing. That’s her polite way of saying we’re not telling you anything and please stop asking questions. Now she’s been good enough to sit down and let you get your curry and leave before we ask the staff questions. So, if you’d be good enough to just stand there, get it and then get out, it’d be much appreciated.’

The man turned up his nose at Perry. ‘No need to be like that.’

‘Well,’ said Perry, ‘I got the feeling you wouldn’t understand it in the polite sense, so there you go.’

Sabine saw a smile race across the manager’s face, and she almost broke into a laugh. Perry sat back down. It was about ten minutes later when Alison came out from behind the serving bar.

‘I’m sorry about that. Can I help you then?’

‘Well, you’re looking, how should I say it, rather better than I thought you would. I mean, your boss has just died.’

‘He has. And he was my boss, and I liked him, but we weren’t close.’

‘So who works here?’ asked Perry.

‘Myself, Alison Hibbert. And there’s Peter, the curry house chef, in the back. I’ll bring him out in a minute.’

‘So you’ve heard about his passing, Mr Dalgetty?’ asked Sabine.

‘Dev,’ said Alison. ‘We always knew him as Dev. Worked with him for several years now, since he took over the curry house. Before he had his money. And he’s a likeable soul—oh, he’s a charmer. Or rather, he was.’

‘What about the curry house? Is it doing well?’

‘It’s always done well, in truth,’ said Alison. ‘I mean, the first couple of months took a bit to get it off the ground, but once it got going, we have our regulars; people come in and go. Um, yes, he’s done pretty well with it.’

‘He owns a rather large house.’

‘Yes. Surprised when he bought that, must be paying a fortune on the mortgage.’

‘But he must be making a fair bit of money then? I mean, it’s a five-bedroom house,’ said Sabine.

‘Like I know how many bedrooms are in it, but it certainly looks that size. I was quite shocked when he bought it. I thought he was going to overstretch himself, but he’s had no problems. Never seen any issues around the business. We get paid on time, we get paid reasonably well, and yes, Dev was a nice guy. Genuinely nice guy.’

‘Are you shocked that somebody’s killed him then?’

‘Well . . . ’ and Alison stopped for a moment.

‘What?’ asked Perry.

‘It’s funny. It’s one of those things when I heard about it, which wasn’t that long ago. I was shocked, and who would do that to Dev. And then they said there was a stiletto slammed into his chest. And I thought, oh, right, so it’s a sexual thing. It’s some woman or whatever who is angry at him. And well, you think back, and he was a charmer, and he was quite a flirt. But he never seemed to have relationship trouble. You know, he never came in here and said that he was having difficulty with women.’

‘Was he seeing anyone in particular?’

‘Dev didn’t talk to me about his personal life. I know he was quite the flirt when the women came in here, but there was no one in particular I would have turned around and said, “Yes, that person.”’

‘And he didn’t do any favours for anyone in here?’ asked Perry.

‘No. Seems rather strange,’ said Alison. ‘I mean he was such a nice guy. Why anyone would do that to him? And yet there’s part of me, well, you don’t flirt that much without . . . you don’t talk to women in that way unless you’re looking for . . . ’

‘For what?’ asked Perry.

‘Action?’ said Alison. ‘I mean, that’s the only way I can describe it. He was a man, wasn’t he? And a lot of us, well, we want a bit, don’t we? Especially as a single man, I imagine. Not that old either, and he was always working out. He was very proud of his body.

‘I’ll say that about him,’ said Alison. ‘He would claim he’d been to the gym, or he was off doing this. I covered lunch often on my own with Peter there. Dev would say, “Oh, I’m off to the gym.” He’d come back sometimes and show me the muscles on his arms or his pecs. I’d just tell him to stop being silly.’

Alison stopped for a moment, looking down at the ground. ‘It’s weird,’ she said. ‘I mean, he’s not coming back in here, is he?’

‘No,’ said Sabine. ‘Why did you open up, though, if you knew he was dead?’

‘There’s no one to give instructions. Food had already been brought in, and Peter was here. I mean, I’m not technically in charge. You asked for the manager. I’m not. I’m just the person who helps serve and takes the orders. Dev was the manager. I have no jurisdiction over Peter in the back. Peter and I just work together, you know. I take the orders, Peter makes them up, I hand them out, and take the money in. Dev would float around some days; if it wasn’t my day in, he’d come and cover, or he’d cook in the back instead of Peter, though Peter’s a better cook.’

Sabine watched as the woman almost seemed to stare away from her. And then she took a seat. ‘What are we meant to do?’ she said to Sabine. ‘I mean, what’s the correct thing to do here? Should we just close? And who do I wait for? Who contacts me? Who—’

‘I don’t know,’ said Sabine. ‘I can’t answer any of that. I’m here to find out what happened to him. Who did it? What happens to his affairs afterwards? I guess there’ll be some lawyers and other things to look at. He might have next of kin.’

‘No next of kin up here. He was a lone wolf, as they say.’

‘Can I speak to Peter?’ asked Sabine. ‘While it’s quiet.’

‘Of course,’ said Alison, and she tottered off round to the rear of the serving bar and into the kitchen. A young Indian man soon came out, and Alison stood at the serving bar, allowing him to sit beside Sabine. Peter’s face looked heavy. His eyes were almost watering.

‘I’m DS Sabine Ferguson, this is Detective Constable Warren Perry. Your name is?’

‘Peter,’ said the chef, and then he gave a name that Sabine couldn’t write down.

‘That’s my Indian name,’ said the man. ‘Most people can’t pronounce it here, so I call myself Peter.’

‘Can you write it down for me?’ said Sabine. ‘I am sorry, but I really didn’t grasp what you said.’

The man wrote his name down and then sat back, looking rather depressed.

‘You’ve heard what’s happened to Mr Dalgetty.’

‘Dev, he was always Dev in here, never Mr Dalgetty. He was always, well, the life and soul of the place.’

‘Alison said you’d been with him from the start.’

‘I wasn’t on the island long, and Dev was opening this up and I came and cooked for him and he was more than happy. It started from there and I just kept going. I know how to cook, but I couldn’t run a place like this. Dev did all the food ordering and everything else. Dev came in and talked to the customers. I just make the food; Alison makes sure things are boxed up properly and handed out, takes the money. I think we made a good team, the three of us. Don’t know what happens next. I mean, I don’t know if they can find somebody else to take it on, or if they’ll keep me on. Will it—?’

‘What about Mr Dalgetty?’ asked Perry brightly. ‘Tell me about him as a person.’

‘He was obsessed with his fitness. Always talking about his fitness and his body and how he looked. Very tailored, very trim, very well-mannered, very well-presented.’

‘Well-presented?’ said Perry.

‘Yes,’ said Peter, ‘not like you.’

Perry reared slightly at the comment, then seemed to acknowledge it as being fair enough.

‘Liked to impress the ladies. He was always good at talking to them. I’m not,’ said Peter. ‘I put my foot in my mouth, but he, Dev, could talk to them all night long. Charmer. Said some things that were rather risqué and rude at times, but they didn’t seem to mind. I think he knew which ones to talk to in that way. He could read a woman, understand what she wanted. There were some women who came in for their curries, and they were just not interested, and Dev never pushed that. He understood his customers, and he had a friendly talk for the men too. Very talkative, Dev.’

‘As an employer, was he good?’

‘Always paid on time, always helpful. If I had issues, Dev would help. I taught him to cook better. He was a good boss,’ said Peter.

Perry could see that the man’s eyes were watering.

‘It’s all right,’ said Perry. ‘It’s a troubling time for you all, difficult to know what to do.’

‘I cook, you know. I cook.’

‘Well, thank you for that,’ said Sabine. She went to stand up, but Perry stopped her cold with a comment: ‘You don’t think we could actually order a curry, do you?’

‘Of course,’ said Peter, and turned over his shoulder to shout Alison. ‘Bring a menu over.’

Alison walked across the room with the menu while Sabine was shaking her head.

‘I haven’t eaten. We need to get lunch, but we’ll take some back for everyone. Several curries. Let’s have a look. Do you like spicy food ?’ asked Perry.

‘No,’ said Sabine, ‘just get yourself one. Get . . . ’

‘No, I am going to get more than one. Jona’s crew will need something. We’ll need about six or seven. Here, look at these ones,’ said Perry. ‘One of them, one of them, one of them,’ and he went down the menu marking them off.

‘Sorry,’ said Peter. ‘That one’s not available.’

‘This one’s not available? I thought you had all the ingredients in,’ said Perry.

‘We never have ingredients for that one,’ said Peter. ‘I don’t know why it’s still on the menu. Maybe Dev just didn’t want to change the menu.’

‘That one came on when we got the menus changed,’ said Alison. ‘That’s a while ago now—I mean years back.’

‘So what about this one?’ said Perry.

‘No, you can’t have that one either,’ said Peter.

‘Why?’ asked Perry.

‘Cause there’re no ingredients for that one either. We don’t have the ingredients for that one, or this one, or that one. There’s four of them there we don’t have ingredients for. We’ve never had the ingredients for them. I think at the start, Dev said he was hoping to get them, but he never procured them.’

‘Why, what’s so difficult to get for them?’

‘Well,’ said Peter, ‘I didn’t ask for it, but the oils. And those, they’re special. Very hard to get hold of.’

‘Can’t you make them with other stuff?’ asked Perry.

‘Stop thinking of your stomach,’ said Sabine.

Perry gave her a quick shake of the head. ‘Can you make those with other oils?’ he asked again.

‘Yes, I mean, there’s plenty available. You go to the suppliers, you’d be able to get other things, but Dev said, “no, we would never make them without this type of oil.”’

‘Was he particular about the food?’ asked Perry.

‘Not really, just those, just those oils,’ said Peter.

‘Well, give me one of these, one of these and another one of those then, as well on top. Poppadoms, you know the lot, just put an enormous pack together for us. We’re feeding about eight people, ten maybe. We’d better include some of the local people as well. Twelve, make it twelve people. Big dinner for twelve people. Thanks,’ said Perry. He sat down and looked across at Sabine. ‘What?’ he said. ‘Curry for twelve. Hope can put it on expenses. I mean, we have to eat, don’t we?’

Sabine shook her head, but Perry was staring again at the menu. ‘Four curries on there for years, and never eaten,’ he said. ‘Never been made. Strange , isn’t it?’

‘The man has a stiletto driven through his chest. I think that’s stranger,’ said Sabine.

Chapter 05

Hope McGrath stood outside the chief inspector’s office at Stornoway Police Station. For some reason, she found herself pulling down her black T-shirt. She tucked it into her jeans and smoothed it out. Reaching up, she adjusted her ponytail, letting the long red hair flow out from behind it.

She shouldn’t feel nervous going in. She was a detective inspector after all. And this guy couldn’t be any worse than DCI Lambert at her own station. His name was Chief Inspector Terry Loughman, and Hope had heard little about him. He wasn’t that long over in Stornoway, an older man presumably put out to what was possibly a quieter station.

But this would be his patch, and she was walking into it. She wondered just how she would be received. In her career, Hope sometimes had problems, especially with older men. Some of them would act as if she were a young pup and didn’t deserve to be there. Some of them thought she’d got there based on her good looks and treated her like some sort of bimbo. Others were professional, of course. Some of them, like Macleod, were challenging, but in a good way, pushing her to be more than she was.

Terry Loughman, at the end of the day, was just the resident senior officer, and they would work alongside his uniformed officers. So, she wanted to make a good impression, but they had to work alongside each other rather than be instructed by him. She knocked on the door.

‘Come in,’ said a voice. It was quite low and throaty. Hope opened the door to see a man sitting behind his desk, tapping away on a computer. He stood up abruptly, walked over, and held out a hand. ‘Chief Inspector Terry Loughman. Call me Terry. You must be Hope.’

‘Detective Inspector Hope McGrath. Good to meet you, Terry.’

‘And you. Quite the shining light.’

Oh, thought Hope, do I want to be one of those?

‘Have a seat,’ said Terry. ‘You want coffee? I’ve just made one.’

‘Thanks,’ said Hope. ‘Make it black.’

Terry walked over to the side of his room and poured coffee out of a filter machine. He brought the cup back, placed it down on his desk in front of Hope, who sat on the chair opposite his larger chair.

‘You’ve made quite a name for yourself,’ said Terry, ‘and you’ve been over here a few times. There was a murder case. The body dumped in the water, down by Holm. Then there was the coffee shop around the corner. You worked with Macleod. I have never met the man, but I know his reputation.’

‘Well, he was quite someone to work with,’ said Hope.

Terry eyed her, and she wondered what he was looking at. Was it her looks? Was it her hard-set face? Was it something else?

‘Has it been tough for you?’ he asked.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Hope.

‘Can I be candid?’ asked Terry.

‘Sure,’ said Hope.

‘You’re very young for a detective inspector. You come up on the heels of Detective Chief Inspector Macleod, and don’t take this the wrong way, you look a million dollars. Tall, good-looking. A lot of guys would more than enjoy working with you, but a lot of them are going to see you as, well…’

‘Someone who uses her sex to get where she is?’

‘Yes,’ said Terry. ‘That must be hard. I don’t imagine you got much joy out of Macleod though on that front.’

Hope thought back to her early days with Macleod. There was an attraction. There always was an attraction between the two of them despite the age difference. It always made her laugh. They never went down those routes, but it always made her laugh. But the laugh was warm, an almost regret that would be thrown off in the cold light of day.

‘Seoras was quite special. Brought a lot of the good detective out in me.’

‘Good,’ said Terry. ‘You won’t get anything but support from me. We’ve had a murder here and we don’t have that many.’

‘Well, in fairness,’ said Hope, ‘you’re not doing too badly on that score. Been here a few times more than you mentioned.’

‘Yes,’ said Terry. ‘I didn’t realize until I came here myself. But I’ve got the lay of the land. I understand what’s going on. What is it you need from me?’

‘The usual,’ said Hope. ‘Support from uniform, door to door, that sort of thing, making sure we’ve got everything tied off. I’ve only got myself and three other officers. Jona’s over with the forensics, and they’ll need help, usually with the hospital for the mortuary and that. And a bit of local knowledge.’

‘More than happy to oblige,’ said Terry.

‘Mr Dalgetty, what do you know about him?’

‘Well,’ said Terry, standing up and stretching, ‘Dev was, well . . . Dev was a character. Everybody knew Dev around town. It’s going to be one of your problems. Everybody’s going to have a take on what he was and what has happened to him. He was a ladies’ man. A real ladies’ man. But happy and joking with it—you could see why they liked him. But speaking as a man, he wasn’t just a happy, sociable one; he had a keen eye for women.’

‘What do you mean?’ said Hope.

‘Well, frankly, he may have buttered up a lot of women. But the women he liked, they were, well, you’d have been one. Young, sub-thirty or thirty-ish. Good figure. Strong woman. I don’t say that to flatter you; I’m just saying that’s the type of woman he would have liked.’

‘And you know this because…’

‘I used to go down and have a curry with him. Used to get my curry from there, and well, you know men talk differently to men than they do to women. He would talk to me about different women that came in, but the ones that he would say he liked—and don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t inappropriate—they weren’t married. They were single women, and those were the ones he was interested in. Really interested in. They were generally very good-looking and very sharp. Couldn’t fault the man for that.’

‘And his dealings with them, were they?’

‘Oh, he was not daft. He would make sure there was a mutual response. You know. He’d cast out, so to speak. He’d be that lively, funny guy. And he’d see if he would get a response. And if he did, he’d go for it because I mean, he had been with a few women along the line, but nothing really long-term, nothing serious, not that I knew of. And I think he was searching for something more. People can be funny like that.’

‘How long have you been here?’ asked Hope.

‘Just over a year. But I got to know him reasonably well as a customer. He hasn’t been in trouble with the law at all. What is interesting, though, is how well that business has done.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘From what I understand, the house he’s in, he bought that two or three years ago. When I say bought it, he built it. There had been a ramshackle, old, fallen-down place there. He came in and built that “Poor man’s palace,” as one local called it.’

‘So, his business was doing well.’

‘Yes, but I still don’t get it. Why would you buy a five-bedroom pad? He was a bachelor, a real bachelor. Why would he need five bedrooms? You know, I could understand a sports den, a bar or something, but a five-bedroom house. That’s more like something a family is going to have.

‘Just seems very audacious if he runs a curry house. He doesn’t run a multi-million-pound business. That’s like a house for somebody who’s doing really well. If you had a chain of curry houses, I could understand it,’ said Terry. ‘Something not right there. I always thought that, but then I thought maybe he’s just taken out a rather large mortgage. Maybe he’s planned for the future; maybe he’s invested in it. People do that with investments. I’ve never been that sort of person, but well…’

‘Anything else we should know about it?’ asked Hope.

‘He’s never been in trouble with us, but he called us several times asking about snoopers. One of my lot scared off a private investigator.’

‘What about him from the point of view of being a foreigner?’

‘Well, he’s Scottish by birth, but I know what you mean. The Indian skin, so to speak, doesn’t look like a traditional Lewisman. I’d love to tell you that there were no problems with race up here, but there are, albeit on a low level. We have our issues the same as anywhere else. There’s still abuse, but nothing on the level of killing people. Fracas, fights, intimidation, yes, though it’s not massively widespread. Most people get along. However, we are like anywhere else, but it’s within the usual bounds.’

Hope studied Terry’s face. ‘You’re not saying something, though,’ said Hope.

‘I don’t want to put ideas into your head. You’re about to investigate this, and I don’t want to bring up a line of inquiry that’s not actually real.’

‘I’d value your opinion, though. Anything you have to say.’

‘Well,’ said Terry. He now had two hands on the back of his chair. He was gripping them tightly. ‘If Dev was putting it about, which I’m not sure he was, but if he was putting it about with the local women that might be different on the race issue front. I could see some people getting not just angry about their woman playing around, but playing around with a man of colour.’

‘Yes,’ said Hope, ‘I see where you are coming from.’

‘It’s not right, but there you go. What I don’t want is anything kicking off here. It’s a small island; everybody knows everybody’s business. It can be tribal when it wants to be . We don’t need something for it to be tribal around. So be sensitive about how you report and what you say. I don’t want to teach you to suck eggs, Inspector, but just be careful.’

‘No, it’s appreciated,’ said Hope.

‘Where are you staying?’ asked Terry.

‘Haven’t even thought about that yet. Came on the overnight ferry, so not set up yet.’

‘Might be difficult getting a place. The hotels are all right but busy now. Good one up just on the edge of town. They’ll give you a couple of rooms in here, shift things about.’

‘Thank you,’ said Hope. ‘I’ll keep you updated.’

‘Just anything significant. There’s no need to run everything by me. It’s just in case I get asked any questions, I don’t want to say something that isn’t true, or say something that you’ve actually discovered more on. I’ll let you talk to the press. Although if you’re having conferences, I’ll be there. Just to, well, show face.’ Terry smiled and reached over with his hand to Hope. ‘Every success, Inspector.’

Hope shook his hand. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She stepped out of his office and stood in the corridor. That was a breath of fresh air, she thought. Then she realised she was going to have to pick up the phone. DCI Lambert would need an update. She didn’t want to give her one. In fact, she wanted to talk to Terry instead. He was normal.

She looked down at her text messages on her phone; there was one there from John. How are you? Has it been a good night? Are you getting anywhere? She wasn’t even twenty-four hours into the case and he was asking how well she’d got on. He wanted her back; she knew that. She wanted back in truth. See little Ian.

Maybe John had something in what he was saying. She went away now, and not that she didn’t want John. It wasn’t that she didn’t miss him, but Ian was her first call. Ian was the one that came to mind first, her little boy. Maybe that was natural. She would need to pull the team together, though. Time to pull everyone in; time to organise. See what they knew. See where to go next.

‘Have we got any officers yet?’

She looked up, and down the corridor stood Perry. There was a large brown paper bag in his right hand, and his left one carried a white plastic bag. Inside it seemed to be lots of foil trays.

‘Oh, Sabine’s got the rest of it. Got us a curry. I bet you’re starving by now. Where’s the rooms?’

The door behind Hope opened, and Terry walked out of his office. Hope saw him stare down the corridor at Perry.

‘Sorry,’ said Hope, ‘Constable Perry seems to have brought lunch for everyone.’

‘Warren Perry,’ said Terry, laughing. ‘You don’t change.’

‘Probably got enough for everyone,’ said Perry. ‘Do you want to join us?’

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ said Terry, ‘I don’t mind if I do.’

Chapter 06

‘Right,’ said Hope. ‘You’ve all got a mouthful and plates in front of you. I’ll get started. First off, I want to welcome Chief Inspector Terry Loughman.’

‘Just Terry. And welcome to you all. Need anything—give us a shout.’

‘Thank you, Terry,’ said Hope. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Hope McGrath, for the uniform in the room who don’t know me. This is Detective Sergeant Ross, Detective Sergeant Ferguson, and that’s Detective Constable Perry. In other words, I’m Hope, this is Sabine, but this is Ross and that’s Perry. They don’t do first names for some reason.’

There was a slight ripple of laughter in the room.

‘Sgt John McAllister down the back,’ said Terry suddenly. ‘Otherwise known as John. And our support staff over in the corner, that’s Emily, that’s David, and that’s Josh. Uniformed constables from our ranks are here to help you with whatever you need. They can go run around things you need or door to door. Sorry. Back to you, Hope,’ said Terry. He stepped aside, picked up a large onion bhaji and stuffed it into his mouth.

Hope looked at her team. Sabine was sitting with a small curry in front of her, Ross too, but Perry was already halfway through his.

‘We’re also missing Jona Nakamura,’ said Hope.

‘She’s running late,’ said Ross. ‘Said to go ahead; she’s got some news that would bring you back out. But she said, go ahead. It’ll wait ten minutes until she gets here.’

‘Right,’ said Hope. ‘In that case, we’d better get on to it before Jona pulls us back out. Okay. Ross, what have you got?’

‘I’ve done a quick check on Dalgetty. Now, he does seem to have gone up in the world because the business is showing record profits. HMRC has taken in a lot more tax from him over the last lot of years. He seems to do very well. He’s obviously bought the house as well, and from what I can gather—I haven’t got full details in this yet—there is a mortgage. It is big, and he’s paying it off no problem. Although it’s nearly done, was a very short-term thing. He put down an awful lot of money. Took up a mortgage with the rest.’

‘That’s strange,’ said Sabine.

‘In what way?’ asked Hope.

‘I’ve been down to the restaurant. Don’t get me wrong; it’s fine. I mean, look at it, good food and stuff. But we’re in Stornoway. How big a client base could you have to turn in that sort of money? There’s two different levels; one doesn’t match the other.’

‘Have to agree there,’ said Terry. ‘I always thought he had a large mortgage on it. I could understand the mortgage being there, but the idea that he’s nearly paid it off, that it’s nearly coming to fruition, seems crazy.’

‘Also,’ said Perry, munching. ‘Alison says it’s just been her.’

‘That’s right,’ said Sabine. ‘Alison said from the start, there was her, and there was Peter in the back. That’s the chef. Two of them and Dev. Surely, if business got that good, you’d need more people. You would need to up the number.’

‘Maybe they’re just efficient,’ said Hope.

‘No,’ said Ross. ‘Think about it. How much do you make on a cover?’

‘What?’ said Sabine.

‘Each night you’ve got to sell how many curries? How much money are you going to make on each curry that you send out? How much does that make in a year? Doesn’t add up. Even doing a ballpark check.’

He grabbed a pen from inside his jacket and a piece of paper from a table. Everybody watched in silence as Ross knocked up some figures. The only sound anyone could hear was Perry munching through his food, and then Ross turned to Hope.

‘Doesn’t make any sense? Got to be money from elsewhere. Makes little sense.’

‘Talk to the HMRC again,’ said Hope. ‘Ask if they’ve looked into Dalgetty properly or if they just took his returns at his word. That’s the way they do it, don’t they? You file your return, maybe somebody glances at it, sees if it’s out of place, but has it been properly looked at?’

‘Will do,’ said Ross.

‘Another side to Mr Dalgetty is that he clearly has some sort of romantic interest going on,’ said Hope. ‘We’ve got four bedrooms, special bedrooms. A dungeon, an Edwardian-themed place, a sports room, and a princess room.’

‘Seems strange,’ said Sabine. ‘I mean, what man makes a princess room? There’s nothing to show that he was interested in princesses or that he was inclined to dress up as one, or had any sort of sexual fetish that way.’

‘No group like that around town either,’ said Terry.

‘With respect,’ said John McAllister. ‘Maybe they weren’t for him; maybe it was his way of getting women interested.’

‘Oh, come on, John,’ said Terry. ‘The guy was a Romeo; he was a smooth talker. I don’t see Dev having a problem getting women interested. He wouldn’t need tricks.’

John shook his shoulders. Perry went to say something, but almost dropped the bhaji that was in his mouth.

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘sorry, just, just something interesting. It just struck me.’

‘What?’ asked Hope.

‘Four special bedrooms. Five in total, yes. Four special ones.’

‘That’s right,’ said Hope, ‘he had his own bedroom too.’

‘Where he was handcuffed with a stiletto stuck through his chest,’ said Sabine. ‘Are we sure that’s not a special bedroom too?’

Perry, by this point, had shoved the rest of the bhaji in his mouth and was waving his hand.

‘Perry, would you stop eating for two minutes and get your thought out?’ spat Hope.

‘Sorry,’ said Perry with a mouthful of food. He quickly munched, swallowing the bhaji, and then took a gulp of water. ‘Stay with me,’ he said, ‘four special bedrooms. When we went down to order this curry, I tried to order different curries off the menu. Four of them were not available.’

‘So what?’ said Hope. ‘They have four curries not available. They haven’t what, the ingredients?’

‘Never had the ingredients,’ said Sabine suddenly.

‘No, they haven’t,’ said Perry, ‘not since that menu was made up; that’s when Alison and Peter were talking about it.’

‘And so what? Some sort of coincidence. Four bedrooms, four curries. So what?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, he’s got to be making his money from somewhere, hasn’t he?’ said Perry.

‘So he’s making his money from what, curries that aren’t on the menu?’

‘It’s a code, isn’t it?’ said Perry.

‘A code?’ blurted Terry.

‘I wonder how many people came in and asked for those curries? And I wonder, were they women? We need to go back and talk to Alison and Peter. Need to see how often those curries were ordered, how often people were rejected.’

‘Because why?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, he’s getting his money from somewhere, isn’t he? You’ve got four bedrooms there. Special interest bedrooms. The man’s a bodybuilder. He’s working out, he’s fit; he’s also a bit of a Romeo. He’s capable of enticing any of the women; he’s a ladies’ man.’

‘Well, that’s true,’ said Terry. ‘I could see some of the older women being interested in him, but he never spoke to me of being interested in them.’

‘But he might be interested in their money,’ said Perry.

‘What?’ said Hope.

‘Their money.’

‘Hang on,’ said Hope. ‘So, you are telling me he’s got a thing going in his restaurant where women come in and order a curry that isn’t actually there. And that means that they’re off to some sort of bedroom. Why would any woman do that?’

‘You’re just lucky you’ve never lacked male interest,’ said Perry. ‘There are a lot of women in this world who want something special. They don’t get it from husbands or whoever, and if somebody’s prepared to take special care of them, they’ll pay for it. I mean, this island isn’t short of money.’

‘That’s true,’ said Terry. ‘Perry’s definitely right on that front. There are people here with money.’

‘That’s a bit much,’ said Hope.

‘He’s got a stiletto stuck through his chest,’ said Perry. ‘That says something.’

‘It says what? The game’s got out of hand?’ said Hope.

‘I just think there is an absolute line of attack here we’re missing. We need to follow this. He’s got four special interest bedrooms. That man does not build those bedrooms without a reason now. Would you randomly build four bedrooms and then try to entice women in, or are they something the women want?’ asked Perry.

‘Who wants a dungeon?’ asked Ross.

‘Some women like that sort of thing, or maybe the women are the ones running the dungeon,’ said Perry.

‘What the heck do you and Tanya get up to?’ asked Sabine, causing everyone to burst out laughing. But Perry had his hand up.

‘No. I am serious about this.’

‘Well, an Edwardian fantasy seems more plausible,’ said Ross.

‘Yes,’ said Perry, ‘you are right with that, and the princess one as well. Some women always want to be princesses, don’t they? These women of whatever age going over to Disney and still wanting to see Cinderella.’

‘And the sports one?’ asked Sabine.

‘Well, there you go, Hope. I mean, sports would probably be more down your line.’

Hope stood with her hand on her hip, looking at Perry. ‘Never compare me with these sorts of women, okay.’ She could see Sabine was smirking at this point.

There was a rap on the door, and Jona Nakamura walked in, with a couple of other forensic officers behind her. She looked around and saw the curry.

‘Great, I’m starving.’

‘Down the back,’ said Perry, ‘there’s plenty there for you all.’

‘We’ll have to be quick ‘cause we were going straight back out,’ said Jona.

‘I said you’d want something though, I got for twelve. I got plenty for everybody. See,’ said Perry, looking at Hope.

Hope shook her head and then turned to Jona. ‘What have you got for us?’

‘Hang on a second,’ said Jona. She grabbed a plate at the back and, after throwing some food onto it, turned and sat down at a desk, plate in front of her. ‘Okay, the basics first. Stiletto. It’s got a sharpened point on it. The one that was driven through his chest, we found a match for it, or rather the other foot; it’s in the dungeon room.’

Perry looked at Hope, giving her a smile.

‘Okay. So it wasn’t brought with them. What else do you know?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, the big reveal is, and you’re going to love this one,’ said Jona, ‘there’s a secret passage in the house basement.’

‘A what?’ blurted Hope.

‘There’s a passage in the house’s basement. Deep down, you go into a cellar, and then you go further down.’

‘Whoa!’ said Hope. ‘He’s just bought this house; he’s built it in the last how many years?’

‘About five or so,’ said Terry.

‘And you’ve got a passage running out from the bottom. How do we not know about it? How did people—’

‘No, no. Wait for this,’ said Jona. ‘The passage in the basement, it’s not new, it’s old. I’d say it’s the best part of forty, fifty-plus years old.’

‘Have you gone into it?’

‘Yes. It looks like when they built the house, there was a concrete basement at the bottom. In the cellar, there’s a small set-out bit of room that doesn’t have a concrete floor. Somebody has excavated down to where this passage runs. Now it’s an old passage, but it’s been cleaned out and it’s looking fairly tidy. And it runs to a doorway that lets you up into the proper basement of the house, and from there, you can get up into the house.’

‘So what? He was sneaking away?’

‘Wait for it,’ said Jona. ‘The passage runs to another house. It’s a few streets away, but not that far, five hundred yards. It comes up into this other house.’

‘And what? He was using it to come and go, or to—’

‘Well, I don’t know what he was using it for. That’s over to you. You’re the detectives. What I can tell you is that the man who was there in the other house was a bit bemused when I walked out. He’s also a little frightened. Uniform is sitting with him at the moment. He hasn’t left the house. I thought it was wise just to get him held there.’

Jona turned, looked at her plate of food and began shovelling it into her mouth .

‘Well, what are we waiting for?’ said Hope.

‘I’m waiting until I eat this food,’ said Jona.

‘Right then,’ said Hope. ‘Me and Perry will get over there. Sabine, I want you to go back to the curry house. Just check through those four items on the menu. See who was ordering them, see who was asking about them. Just find out if Perry’s theory is plausible. See if you can even get any women’s names. Perry, get that food shovelled in and let’s go.’

Hope watched Perry turn and take one of the paper bags, dropping some pakoras and some bhajis into it and then wrapping it up. He looked over at Hope.

‘I’ll meet you in the car downstairs,’ he said as he walked out of the room.

Hope saw the chief inspector laugh. ‘Never changes, Perry,’ he said, ‘never changes at all.’

Chapter 07

Hope marvelled at how Perry could still shove more food into his mouth as he drove the short distance from the police station to the new house Jona had discovered. It was set on a road with houses on either side, and they were built maybe forty or fifty years ago, but it looked like any average Stornoway street.

There was no police presence outside. Jona advised uniform it was best to stay in the building. Hope told Perry to keep driving and head back to the other house, parking up on Mr Dalgetty’s drive. She entered and was shown through to the passageway in the basement by one of the uniformed officers. Perry joined her, and she looked along a dark passage lit by occasional low-level lights.

Perry stared at the fixtures on the wall. ‘These haven’t been done by a professional,’ he said. ‘They’re amateur. They’re fine, I mean they’re working, and the wiring’s connected, but this is not professional work. He’s put this in himself afterwards.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Well, Hope, if you look at the doorway, he’s got them to build all around it, but he’s not got anybody to break into the passageway. He’s done that. He’s put the doors over the passageway. Likelihood is that nobody really knows about this, I guess. But somebody must know about it. The house on the other side, well. Somebody’s paying council tax. Somebody’s got to maintain it. You know, somebody’s got to pay for whatever is going on.’

‘That may be true, Perry, but nobody’s mentioned that house. Everybody’s only mentioned the big house.’

Hope continued along the passageway with Perry, where it came to a door after a set of steps. Opening it, Hope could see a uniformed officer. He was standing in a room with a couple of chairs, but very little else.

‘Inspector,’ said the uniformed officer, ‘this way,’ and opened the door in the room. This went out into a hallway, and the man opened another door.

‘In there, in that room is Alex Mackenzie. Alex lives on this side of the house. He has a room in the front there, which is like a lounge. There’s another door that leads through into a bedroom, and there’s a kitchen at the back. These are the only rooms Alex says he occupies. The other rooms have nothing to do with him, and he says he’s never even been into that side of the house.’

‘Really?’ said Hope.

‘I’m tending to believe him. He seems quite earnest,’ said the officer. ‘But obviously, you can talk to him.’

Hope entered the room indicated by the officer and saw another officer sitting on a small armchair tucked in behind the door. On a sofa was a young lad, possibly only twenty-one or twenty-two. He was thin and drawn, and wore a loose black t-shirt with a band logo on it. He also had black jeans on, but his feet were currently bare.

The officer nodded, stood up, and left. Perry entered the room behind Hope.

‘Alex Mackenzie,’ said Hope, ‘I am Detective Inspector Hope McGrath. This is Detective Constable Warren Perry.’

‘I told them what I know.’

‘I am sure you did, but I need to talk to you. How long have you been here, Mr Mackenzie?’

‘It’s been like, it’s been, well . . . ’ The man was clearly nervous. ‘It’s been five, just over five years.’

‘And do you own the building?’

‘No, no,’ he said. ‘No, no.’ He was nervous, but Hope noticed he was looking at her, really looking at her.

‘So why are you here?’ asked Hope.

‘I, uh, I was homeless. I did a lot of drugs. Yes, and I was fighting when I was sixteen. I was just wild. Needed a shelter, and I was put into a homeless shelter. But I left it ‘cause I met Mr Dalgetty. He said that he had a place that he needed someone to stay in, someone to look after it, but it had to be quiet. Had to be trustworthy and not tell anyone because it was for people who needed help.’

‘What people?’

Alex turned and pointed to the door. ‘Through there, beyond that door. I am not allowed through that door. I can go into the hallway and the front door, and if people come and need help, I’m to open it, but generally the front door is open. People round here don’t always lock their doors.’

Hope remembered Seoras telling her about that, how on the island they didn’t lock the doors often, although that was changing more now; some did at night but during the daytime they would often be open. She struggled to see how that worked. She had visions of people walking into the house while she was sitting on the loo. Then again, she knew people who would come in and have a conversation with you there. People were funny like that.

‘So, you were here to do what, then?’

‘I had to stop any men coming in. No men are allowed in here, just me, and I don’t go out there unless there’s trouble. I can use my fists. I haven’t used them in years, but I can use my fists. Always fighting, you see. Could fight.’

‘But those rooms over there, you say you’ve never been in them? You’ve never seen inside them?’

‘Never looked. Mr Dalgetty gave me a house, and he pays me. He pays me money to be here. It was a job; I couldn’t get any other job’ cos they wouldn’t have me. I was a mess, I was on drugs, I was—’

‘And the other side of the house is for women.’

‘It’s a refuge,’ said Alex. ‘I’m doing something good here. It’s a refuge, but it’s’—he put his finger to his lips—‘a silent refuge, that’s what Mr Dalgetty said. It’s for women who need to get away from husbands, those who abuse them, or those who are struggling with them. So, I don’t go in there. I just keep out of the way. But I have a roof over my head. I’m not living in the homeless shelter. I am also drug-free.’

‘Okay,’ said Hope, ‘how did you get off the drugs?’

‘Mr Dalgetty helped me, helped me go to people, he did that. He gave me a reason to live properly. I mean I have money, I can do things now. I’m allowed to come and go. I have the roof over my head; I just have to be here and look after it. Mr Dalgetty gave me times to be here. Women would come and I was to just make sure that nothing happened.’

‘How often were you here? How often were you told to be here?’ asked Perry.

‘Five, sometimes up to six evenings a week, which is okay; I don’t mind. Like I say, I get paid, I go out during the day.’

‘Did you ever get visits during the day from these women?’ asked Hope.

‘Not very much; occasionally; I’m here when needed.’

Hope sat back in the chair she’d taken and watched Perry standing. He was deep in thought.

‘You’re from the telly, aren’t you?’ said Alex suddenly to Hope.

‘I am from the police,’ said Hope. ‘I don’t work for the telly.’

‘No, no,’ he said, ‘but you’ve been on the telly.’

‘Yes,’ said Hope. ‘I am a detective.’

‘Inverness, other places, I’ve seen you. You used to do a lot of the talking for Macleod.’

‘Yes,’ said Hope, surprised that she was so well known by him.

‘He never came on, or rarely came on. You would do it, you would do the talking.’

‘How do you know that?’ asked Hope.

‘Evening news is on. I’m here most evenings. You’re on the news, yeah. You’re, uh, you’re nice to look at on the news.’

The boy’s face was going red now, and Hope wasn’t sure how to take it. She was quite flattered but he was only a young pup. And he was clearly excited about her being there, although he seemed to be nervous about the rest of it.

‘Have you heard about Mr Dalgetty?’ asked Perry.

‘Yeah, heard today, but I wasn’t sure and then the news has it and your officer told me.’

‘How are you feeling about that?’

‘I don’t know. I mean, does his refuge continue? Do I continue to have this job? It’s going to be known that there’s a refuge here. Have you told anyone?’

‘We haven’t told anyone yet, Alex,’ said Hope.

‘That’s good. Cause if people don’t know, then it could still happen. I could still get paid.’

‘Alex,’ said Perry, ‘Mr Dalgetty’s dead. How would you get paid?’

The boy seemed to stop for a moment. ‘You’re right,’ he said, ‘who’s going to give me my cash?’

‘Cash,’ said Perry.

‘Mr Dalgetty would come in every so often and give me the cash that pays for this because I have to pay council tax, I have to pay the bills. I have to—’

‘So, you take care of all the mail that comes in here too, all the money to do with it,’ asked Hope.

‘Mr Dalgetty owns the place, so if he has a mortgage or something like that he deals with that,’ said Alex. ‘But I was to pay all the bills; the bills are in my name.’

Hope nodded and then stood up, looking around. ‘Do you mind if I take a wander through your kitchen and things?’ asked Hope.

‘No,’ said Alex, jumping up. She was aware that he was following her closely. It looked like a small but comfortable existence in his bedroom. He had several posters up, all of women and famous stars. He looked like a typical male in his early twenties. His kitchen was neat enough, not perfect, and he seemed to be eating all right from what was in there. And yet he still looked so gaunt. The drugs had been bad for him.

‘Thank you for your help. All right,’ said Hope, ‘if you can stay on your side of the house, we need to look at the refuge. There’ll be a police officer in here, but we will not put one outside. We’re going to keep this quiet. You need to keep quiet about it too.’

‘Of course,’ said Alex, ‘I’ve done so for five years. I’ve kept it quiet. I’ve—’

‘Well done,’ said Hope, and indicated to Perry to follow her back out into the hallway. Closing the door of Alex’s room behind them, Hope called the constable over who was outside.

‘What do you know about Alex?’

‘Known Alex during my time here,’ said the constable. ‘He used to be a mess, always in trouble. High as a kite, drugs. Fighting anyone who got in the way. But he got in here and I remember people being worried, but he’d got this place to live. And then he seemed to calm down. He’s more peaceful nowadays. We always wondered what had happened, how he’d got it; somebody was obviously supporting him. But he wasn’t a bother anymore. He was never in trouble. He was, well, better than he had been, still going to the doctor, still seeing psychologists and things for help and getting him off the drugs. But in the last couple of years, you wouldn’t really even have thought of him being about. Seen him about town, but he was quiet. It’s been a rather wonderful transformation.’

‘And this passageway? Anybody in the town know about it?’

‘Well, if you ask me,’ said the constable, ‘the only people that might know about this passageway would be the older ones. People who owned these houses before the current crop of owners. This tunnel goes back there and before Mr Dalgetty built his house, there was an older house there too. And it had a lot of shedding around it. I’m guessing that this was like a run for alcohol. An illegal still or something. Something from back then that you weren’t meant to have.’

‘Well, you could be right,’ said Hope. ‘For the moment, we’ll keep all this quiet. So everybody who comes to this house comes in through the passageway, okay? No uniform go out that front door. In fact, nobody goes out that front door except for Alex. Keep an eye on where he’s going.’

Hope went back to the passage, followed by Perry.

‘Well, what do you think? Did I nail it or what?’ asked Perry.

‘Did you nail it?’

‘Refuge for women, it’s perfect isn’t it?’ said Perry. ‘They come in here, and there is somebody protecting the door. And off the women go into Dalgetty’s Fantasy Land, and they leave afterwards. If they’re careful about it, few people on the street will see them go in. If they do, they’re seeing Alex. They’re going in for something else. They’re nowhere near Dalgetty, nowhere near his wonderful bedrooms. Nobody connects Dalgetty with them. If his only connection is the house, and he’s got that tied into the business or something else, most people will not realise. I mean, that’s not something that gets brought up publicly. It’s not something you spot walking past it. Dalgetty was not daft.’

‘You still think he was making money.’

‘He’s literally paying Alex to be here; he’s making money. These women are paying him for a dream. Hope, you really have been too fortunate. You got too much attention, too easily.’

She stopped for a moment and looked at Perry. ‘Trust me, that’s not always a good thing.’

‘No,’ said Perry. ‘But you have no idea how it feels to want it. These women did. I am telling you that now, whoever they are.’

‘Well, it wasn’t enough for somebody,’ said Hope.

Chapter 08

Hope and Perry returned to the station, from where the rest of the team had spread out and had not yet returned. Looking for a moment to sit down and think on her own, Hope realised that her phone was ringing. With a little dread, she looked at the name: DCI Lambert.

‘Hello,’ said Hope.

‘Detective Inspector, looking for my update; what’s going on?’

‘Looks like we may have some type of gigolo on the island who’s been killed off by someone. We’re currently looking into it and trying to discover why.’

‘Anything more untoward than that?’

‘Seems to be all about romantic interest and hunger,’ said Hope. ‘We’re on it and trying to keep a lid on it because there’s a certain fetish side to it. Quite a messy situation, but nothing I don’t think we can handle.’

‘Right, well then. Nobody from the important side of the island, then.’

Somebody’s just died, thought Hope. He was important. He was well liked, was a character. Is she only ever concerned about those in power? Of course, she is.

‘I’ve got it under control.’

‘Well then. I’ll leave it all in your hands. Let’s get it wrapped up quickly. Looks good for the case numbers.’

‘Very good,’ said Hope, putting the phone down. She was struggling now to think of DCI Lambert as anything but someone who would manipulate things for her own gain. She wasn’t a proper detective. It was only now that she was realising just how good a boss Seoras had been. After all, he’d backed her in everything. Yet he’d given her a chance to prove herself. Let her run with ideas. Hope disappeared into the small room that had been given to them at the station and sat for a while thinking until she heard the team arriving. She brought the four of them together.

‘Okay,’ said Hope, looking at the other three. ‘We have these women who apparently were sneaking into Dalgetty’s house via a refuge, which Alex Mackenzie was running, even though he didn’t know the full extent of what was happening. Did we get any further with the idea of the four curries that weren’t on the menu?’

‘Well, yes,’ says Sabine, ‘in a way, yes. When I asked Alison and Peter about it, they didn’t ever directly get asked for the curries. It was Dev who was asked for them and Dev who said, “No, that’s not available anymore.”’

‘Well, that’s perfect,’ said Perry. ‘Then if they asked him for that, he knew what room was wanted next time. He’d have to just get them a date.’

‘It’s a bit face to face though, isn’t it?’ said Hope.

‘Yes,’ said Perry.

‘But that’s, that’s a bad thing,’ said Hope.

‘No, it’s not, it’s a good thing,’ said Perry. ‘These women want to go to these rooms and have this man play out their fantasies. They’re taking a high risk here, and they’re paying him for it. To see him beforehand in a non-sexual environment, an open environment where they can get the sort of “yes, this is all okay” nod is ideal for them. They could also go in and ask this, and he can turn around and say if it’s a bad idea.’

‘But it’s also very risky, isn’t it, in some ways?’ said Sabine. ‘It’s quite dramatic, quite—’

‘Now you’re getting it,’ said Perry. ‘Now you’re getting it. These women are looking for some drama as well as presumably good sex, but it’s the whole thing: the intrigue, the suspense, the undercover side of it.’

‘Oh, very good,’ said Sabine. ‘Undercover, I like that one.’

Hope held up her hand . ‘Right, right, okay. So, if we say that this is what’s happening and these women have gone in, we’ve got a problem. Alex doesn’t know who any of them are because he’s seen none of them because that’s his job; he’s only meant to come out if he hears a male voice. You’re now telling me that Peter and Alison don’t know any faces because the women have only come up to Dev. So they don’t know who any of them are. But we’ve, well, we’ve got to find these women. How many of them are there ? So how do we do it?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Sabine. ‘I mean, what’s he got? People coming into his curry house. It must have been very low-key because nobody, even those who work there, has been able to spot any of them. The other contact, Alex, has been kept well out of it. I don’t see how we work out who they are. Do we go around and interview women and just ask them how happy they are in their marriages?’

‘Of course you’re struggling,’ said Perry. ‘We’re meant to. You’re not meant to know them. But he had to make contact with them.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Hope.

‘There’s got to be an underground here. Look at the money he’s brought in, and from what Alex said, you know, six evenings a week, he’s working hard. Maybe Dev was working hard to get himself out of the rat race.’

‘But being some sort of gigolo,’ said Sabine.

‘You use whatever talents you’ve got, as we said these women, a lot of them will have a decent amount of money.’

‘So how does that help us?’ asked Hope.

‘Because,’ said Perry, ‘he has to advertise. There’s got to be some underground knowledge of this. Even if it’s only rumours. The idea that he’s a gigolo will not be a surprise to a significant number of women, even those who haven’t taken him up on it. Because there must be some rumours around him; there must be something that says to a woman, “Do you know what? If you want to go off and do the dirty on your husband, or you want romance, intrigue, or however you want to view it, well, you can pay Dev for it.’ But they have to know how to get in contact with him, how to engage the service. He has to advertise.’

‘So what—are we going back looking through his Facebook?’ said Hope.

‘No, it’s got to be somewhere he is. Imagine what he’s doing here,’ said Perry. ‘A woman’s going to have to talk to him; he’s going to have to be incredibly good at getting her on side and making her feel warm and comfortable about this because it’s quite frankly, a very dangerous thing to do. Some of these women could have husbands who would beat the head off them for it, maybe even go worse. For some reason, they’re not getting it at home in the way that they want it.’

‘Eloquently put,’ said Sabine.

‘Well, look, that’s what it is. You know he’s running something glamorised, but it’s not, is it? It’s just basic needs being met.’

‘So what are you saying?’ asked Hope.

‘The women have to find out that the service is offered. You can’t openly advertise, so how do you get the word out? Well, he’s the one who’s going to get the word out. So, therefore . . . ?’

‘We need to know where he went, what he did. The word’s got to go out at the times when he’s around women.’

‘Exactly,’ said Perry.

‘Well,’ said Ross. ‘His bank account’s got several subscriptions. I know he pays for Pilates; he’s a member of a gym and the leisure centre.’

‘So that’s where we have to go,’ said Hope. ‘That’s exactly where we have to go. You’re on it,’ Hope said to Perry and Sabine, ‘two of you; you head off and find out about the Pilates, the gym and the leisure centre.’

‘Where’s the Pilates at?’ asked Perry.

‘Dance studio,’ said Ross. ‘At least that’s where it’s receipted to.’

‘Right then,’ said Perry. ‘Not a problem. They’ll be used to people like me coming in.’ Sabine smirked.

‘What else then?’ said Hope. ‘What about HMRC?’

‘Well,’ said Ross, ‘they haven’t carried out deep investigations into Dalgetty. They’re now looking into the submitted receipts for me. We’re going to try to see if he’s been pushing money into them that hasn’t come from the restaurant.’

‘Okay, so we’re waiting for that to come back, but we suspect it’s true. So, our big thing at the moment is to find out who were his lovers—paid or otherwise—because somebody took a dislike to him,’ said Hope.

‘It might be somebody using those rooms as well,’ said Perry. ‘The shoe came from there.’

‘But it was in his own bedroom,’ said Sabine. ‘Does that mean it was one of his real women, as opposed to his paid-for lovers?’

‘I don’t think we know enough about him yet,’ said Hope. ‘You two go out, find out what he was doing at the gym, this Pilates, and the leisure centre. See if there’re any women around him. Ross, you keep working on HMRC and his electronic background. See if there’s anything in any of the systems that highlights where this money came from. Presumably it would be paid by cash, but he’s got to put it somewhere. He’s funnelled it into that restaurant somehow.’

‘Ideal place for it,’ said Ross. But if he puts receipts in for everything, and remember he can make up receipts, we’re going to have to trace his inventory coming in. Then we’ll see if he was actually putting extra money in. He won’t make money if he’s bought loads and loads more veg and meat. But he could make them up, produce false receipts. But I would suspect that his inventory in would not be enough for the products he says he’s produced and sold.’

‘Well, you get on that,’ said Hope, ‘and we’ll convene again later.’

Returning to her quiet room, Hope picked up the phone and gave John a call thinking it might be one of the few chances she got that day. It rang for a while, then there came a voice at the other end.

‘Hello? Thought you’d be working.’

‘How are you?’ asked Hope.

‘No, how are you? You’re in the middle of this; you don’t call at this time usually,’ said John.

‘No, but I wanted to talk to you. I wanted you to hear my voice, to hear me.’

‘Oh, in the middle of changing a nappy.’

‘Delightful,’ said Hope.

‘Oh, absolutely, we’re off out. Angus is bringing the other wee one, and we’re going out for a coffee.’

‘Well, that’s good.’

‘It is,’ said John, ‘and I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I’ve got to be honest. I don’t want coffee at the moment. I want—’

‘I know what you want,’ said Hope. ‘I’m going as quick as I can.’

‘It wasn’t a rebuke,’ said John.

‘If you’re really feeling bad,’ she said, ‘why don’t you just come over? Take up a house. I could, well, we might even get the odd half-hour or hour to ourselves. You know?’

‘You’re working,’ said John, ‘I don’t want to get in the way when you’re working.’

‘If I’m at home, I come home. You’re not in the way there.’

‘No, I am in the way there. When you go into detective mode, I lose you. I really lose you. You know? How often today have you thought about me?’ asked John.

‘I have. Why do you think I am ringing you? Why do you think—’

‘No, but you are ringing me because you are worried about me. Not because, well.’

‘It’s pretty hard to think like that when I’m involved in a case,’ said Hope. ‘I don’t even know when I’m sleeping next. That’s the way these things go.’

‘I know that,’ said John, ‘and I’m not complaining.’

‘You sound like you are,’ said Hope.

‘I’m not. This is what is. This is what we’ve got to get through.’

‘Come out,’ said Hope. ‘Get the wee man, get on the ferry and come out. Be better if you’re closer. We can grab those few moments; we can—’

‘I’m meeting Angus now. We’ve got to go and have a bit of fun with him. Then I’ll come back and we’ll see. Not sure I can face the thought of packing. I’m pretty tired as it is. He was up a lot last night.’

‘Something wrong?’

‘Yes, his mum’s not here. He likes you about, you know? He needs you in some ways.’

‘But you were the one who said I should keep this job; you were the one—’

‘And I still think you should. I’m just saying we need to work this out for everybody, you know? The job can’t be the one at the top. We have to be the ones at the top. Us, closely followed by Ian. The job, other bits of life, whatever—they’re all secondary. All I know is that things are not working smoothly at the moment. I am taut as anything, wound up to the hilt,’ said John. ‘And most of that is coming from the frustration of you not being here.’

‘You always said you were proud of me, of what I do,’ said Hope.

‘And I am. I am so proud of you. I still can’t believe that this stunning woman is with me. But at the moment, it’s just very hard to feel you’re with me. Feels like you’re that detective.’

‘Well, it’s hard to be them all at once,’ said Hope. ‘I don’t know how.’

‘No, you don’t at the moment. And I don’t know how to accept each one separately.’

‘Come on over,’ said Hope, ‘think about it; come on over. Bring Ian to me. At least he might get to sleep beside his mum at night.’

‘Gotta go,’ said John. ‘Angus is waiting.’

‘Love you,’ said Hope.

‘I know,’ said John, and down went the phone.

Chapter 09

Hope made herself a coffee and then switched on the TV, looking for the news channel. She held the mug in front of her mouth as she realised that the murder had made it onto the news. A single death far away in Stornoway was not something that normally would trouble the news, but this had been a murder. But that wasn’t the exciting side of it.

Instead, Hope was looking at a reconstruction of four different bedrooms: The Dungeon, The Edwardian House, The Sports Den, and The Princess Dream Room. Someone was talking about Dev Dalgetty being a love master. Hope wasn’t sure what that meant.

Hope sipped her coffee. This was a pain; this would mean more news coming. The story had been picked up, and while the BBC’s content wasn’t too scandalous, some of the other reports were crazy. There came a knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ said Hope.

The door opened, and Chief Inspector Terry Loughman walked in. ‘Oh, sorry to bother you, Hope, but can you come into my office for a minute?’

Oh, thought Hope. Into his office, not just talking here.

‘Of course,’ said Hope, stood up and followed the man down the corridor to his office at the end. He held the door open for her, closing it behind her. He pointed over to the table at the other end of his room.

‘If you have a look there,’ said Terry. ‘That’s some of the papers.’

Hope walked over. They’d made the front page of some nationals.

‘Well, we didn’t want that,’ said Hope.

‘No, we didn’t,’ said Terry.

‘I’m bemused by the coverage,’ said Hope. ‘I mean, it’s over the top. It’s—’

‘It’s a quiet news day,’ said Terry. ‘Nationally there’s not a lot going on, but now they’ve got a murder with sex involved. They’ll love it, lap it up.’

‘I just saw the BBC report on it, some of the others—’

‘You need to get some sensible statements out. I can give you a hand with those if you want,’ said Terry. ‘But this isn’t good.’

‘Well, we have let nothing go yet about the secret passage or about Alex.’

‘Good,’ said Terry, ‘don’t. That kid is vulnerable in there. He’s probably going to be at a loose end, wondering what he’s going to do now. He’s had stability for several years and now he’s got none. I want to see if I can get social work to help him. But I also want to be careful about just who gets involved with him,’ said Terry. ‘We want nothing leaking out, not about that.’

‘We’ve got a problem though,’ said Hope, ‘we have to find out who Mr Dalgetty was involved with, how he got the message out to these women. There are definitely serious indications that he was selling himself for money, using these bedrooms as part of his business. He was a gigolo, really.’

‘And one that seemed to get paid remarkably well,’ said Terry. ‘You don’t think I should ask my wife?’

Hope spun to him and then saw his smile, making her laugh.

‘Your domestic issues are your own,’ said Hope, smiling back. ‘However, I’ve got my team trying to find out the places he was because he clearly was advertising somewhere.’

‘Yes. Unfortunately, this has a serious downside, even beyond Mr Dalgetty’s death,’ said Terry. ‘I’ve had a case of domestic violence reported by a woman in Lochs. That’s the area just outside Stornoway. Now when my constables got there, they managed to calm it down, but the husband, Murdo Grant, accused her of spending money on a gigolo. It’s almost ridiculous. It’s the Isle of Lewis, and we’re having tales of a gigolo.’

‘I thought that,’ said Hope, ‘but Perry was much wiser to it. Everybody needs their kick somewhere, somehow.’

‘Well, yes. But even so,’ said Terry. ‘They managed to calm Murdo down, and he didn’t have any cause to investigate further. She had said she’d been abused, but I think she was afraid he was going to . . . , well, he was furious. Charging about. He did accuse her, but he didn’t physically harm her or anything. She seemed okay to stay after that, but, well, I thought you should know.’

‘Who was she?’ asked Hope.

‘Wendy Grant. Her address is there on that piece of paper.’

‘Do you think she’s a potential candidate?’ asked Hope.

‘I don’t know the woman personally. Who knows?’

‘Well, thanks for bringing it to my attention.’

‘We need to shut this down quickly. The longer this goes on, the more rumours come out. And when these clowns,’ said Terry, pointing to the newspapers, ‘get hold of this day after day, they’ll start printing more about sex and whatever. Tales of how Dev used to do this and what women are up to. Then suspicions are going to flare into poor judgement. Suspicions that don’t need to flare, or some very innocent women could be on the end of, well, on the end of some bad stuff.’

‘I understand,’ said Hope.

‘We haven’t got a massive force here. I haven’t got a massive team to work with. I don’t need people getting angry, I don’t need a rising up against Dev or anybody of Indian descent. “Foreigners taking our women chants”—all that nonsense.’

‘Well, we’ll get together and do the announcement, we’ll tell them that there’s no need for panic, investigating, etcetera,’ said Hope. ‘Do the usual.’

‘Get me the killer,’ said Terry. ‘And there’s something else you might want to think about.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, you may have thought of it already, but if Dev actually had a proper girlfriend, or partner, well, then how does she feel about him being a gigolo? Sometimes it isn’t all about the money.’

‘Indeed,’ said Hope. ‘Not sure he has one. Nobody has shown up.’

‘No,’ said Terry. ‘But his own bedroom with some of the play gear. That seems strange to me.’

‘We’ll get on it,’ said Hope. She left the room and went back to her own before calling Ross in the next room.

‘What’s up?’ asked Ross.

‘The chief inspector said there’d been a domestic incident. There’s a woman, Wendy Grant. I want you to look into it. Find out what her car is and see who she is, what she does financially, if she’s okay, anything about her. Her husband accused her of paying money for a gigolo. I want to see if there’s any truth in that. If so, she may be able to identify some of the other women, and she’d go on the suspect list herself.’

‘As he would.’

‘Indeed,’ said Hope. ‘But do it quietly. The chief inspector wants it all done quietly. He doesn’t want things getting out of hand; no lynch mobs or anything ridiculous like that.’

‘Doesn’t want the racist card being played. Wise man,’ said Ross.

‘Particularly get what car she drove. See if Alex knows it. I can’t believe that women are going to come from miles away on foot to get into that refuge.’

‘No, but he may have other rules for using it. I’m not sure he’s going to get them to park on the doorstep either.’

‘True,’ said Hope. ‘True.’

After Ross left, Hope went downstairs in the station to look out through the front window. All around the street were cameras. There were newspaper reporters there. BBC, ITV, Channel Four. Hang on, everyone was here. It was building up. She knew better than to walk out the front door. This was not good.

Hope returned to Terry and asked him to organise a conference in the next thirty minutes. She sat down and planned out what she would say, keeping it down to the bare basics of what had happened. Thirty minutes later, across the road in a church hall, Hope sat down behind a basic table alongside Chief Inspector Terry Loughman.

Terry stood up, made some opening comments, and then passed over to Hope for an update on the case. Hope advised investigations were continuing, and that wild speculation about Mr Dalgetty or any of his actions was unwelcome and unnecessary.

She also asked the media to refrain from putting out anything that may put other women at risk. It was a dangerous time, and people had to understand that until facts were facts, there was no point making assumptions. She was on the case, progress was being made, but at this time, because of the sensitive nature of the case, she couldn’t say anything.

The floor was then opened for questions. The first few were the usual asking if progress had been made, what progress had been made, what the lines of inquiry were. Hope, as usual, deflected most of these, saying they were a police matter, and certain things couldn’t be spoken about at this time.

And then she got a question from one of the more fun papers, as they liked to be called. Did Hope think that Mr Dalgetty had a perversion, or was he simply satisfying women with a perversion?

Hope could have walked over and hit the man. It’s exactly what didn’t need to be said, but she politely told him she didn’t speculate on anybody’s perversions. Until they were actually part of the case, they would not be mentioned here. All lines of inquiry were being looked into.

Someone asked whether Mr Dalgetty was into large women and what sort of women would they be; someone with a toned body like her own or was it the older middle-aged woman that he was preying on. Hope reminded them all that this was a police press conference, not an adult entertainment channel. With that, she stood up and left.

As she disappeared into the back of the church hall, away from the cameras, Terry tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Well done,’ he said.

‘Why do they ask stuff like that? A man’s been killed. He’s dead. And all they’re doing is looking at what he did, how he did this, not who did it. Not the fact that there’s a murderer out there.’

‘Sells though, doesn’t it? Sex always sells,’ said Terry. ‘It’s got to be about money, it’s got to be about sex or, on the other side, religion. But preferably with sex thrown in. That’s all they see. They don’t see people who have had their dreams shattered, people who are just trying to make a living. People who are just sad and lonely, people whose lives didn’t work out for them.

‘The problem I have, though,’ Terry said to Hope, ‘is that rumours will fly around, obscuring the real rumours that made his business. Perry was right; the guy had to advertise. Had to put out there what he was offering.’

‘Those who were part of it will keep their heads down as much as possible because they’re aware they could be a murder suspect,’ said Hope. ‘But other women, they will gossip and it will spread.’

‘Oh, you better believe it’ll spread around here, a community like this. There’s nothing like the jungle drums,’ said the chief inspector. ‘Anyway, BBC Alba want an interview as well, but I said I’ll take it. I can speak Gaelic.’

‘Well, thank you for that,’ said Hope. ‘I’ll get back to it.’

‘Get it wrapped up quick,’ said Terry, ‘for all our sakes.’

Hope nodded. It felt good having Terry here. She would’ve wanted her DCI to come in and cover, but clearly DCI Lambert was not interested. There was nothing here except smut and sleaze, and that’s not where Lambert stood. She needed to be in with the big people, the people who really pulled the strings. After all, you didn’t get your next promotion from the people down in the gutter.

Back in her office, Hope made a coffee while looking at what she knew of the case so far. These women were obviously missing something. At least a physical reaction, maybe more. This was an extreme length they’d gone to, though, to get that.

She thought about John. She couldn’t let that go. They would have to solve this. He was struggling, and they’d have to solve it. She saw what these women had done, the lengths they’d gone to. She was not expecting John to suddenly disappear and run off, or indeed pay for a woman to come round. But if she didn’t solve it in the long run, something would happen.

Wee ones, she thought. They seem to take away so much of your life so quickly. And then she let out an almighty yawn. Hope hadn’t slept. She was tired, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d start getting emotional. She found that when she was away from little Ian, the more tired she got, the more she thought about him, emotions running high.

But she didn’t think about John emotionally when she was tired, it was Ian that her first thought went to. Maybe that’s where she needed to start. Maybe. No time to think about that now. She got back into the case notes.

Chapter 10

Perry got out of the car and almost sauntered his way across the stony car park to the wooden dance studio in front of him. Sabine laughed loudly, but Perry turned round, grabbed her by the hand and actually spun around a few times.

‘What are you doing?’ said Sabine.

‘Tanya has me out dancing. Did you know that? I actually dance. She says I move quite gracefully, considering my frame.’

Sabine looked up and down at Perry.

‘That’s not a sight I want to see,’ she said.

‘That’s just plain rude,’ said Perry. ‘Got to burn off all that curry somehow.’

And with that, he spun Sabine right up to the door. at which point they saw a face on the other side. Quickly, the two adopted a much more serious demeanour and took out their accreditation. The door opened and a middle-aged woman looked at them.

‘Hi,’ said Sabine, ‘I am DS Sabine Ferguson, this is DC Warren Perry. We’d like to ask you a few questions about Dev Dalgetty.’

‘Oh, Dev,’ said the woman. ‘It’s sad to hear. Strange, tragic.’

‘Yes, we’re looking to speak to the Pilates instructor. I believe Dev did Pilates here.’

‘Yes, indeed. Oh, you’re in luck. She’s actually here at the moment. There’s a class going on, but I’ll cover and take over if you want.’

Sabine asked if she would, and the woman disappeared before another woman came back. This woman was dressed in a leotard and sat down on some benches inside the studio. Sabine sat beside her while Perry stood.

‘My name’s Lyn MacIntyre,’ said the woman.

‘What age are you, if you don’t mind my asking?’ said Sabine.

‘Forty-two,’ said the woman.

‘And you’re married?’

‘Yes, yes, I have a husband. Kids. Why do you ask?’

‘We’re here to find a bit of information about Mr Dalgetty, Dev Dalgetty. I believe you taught him as an instructor.’

‘Well, he was one of the class. I teach quite a number of people.’

‘Well, what did you think of him?’ asked Sabine.

‘Shouldn’t talk ill of the dead,’ said Lyn. ‘I mean. He was a nice enough man.’

‘Can you just tell us exactly what you think?’ said Sabine. ‘It remains with us. We will tell nobody else what you think, but we’re trying to get an impression of him, an accurate impression of him, not a favourable one just because he’s dead.’

‘Well, if I’m being totally honest,’ said Lyn, ‘I thought he was a bit of a show-off. He’d come in and he’d wear such tight attire. Not in a practical sense. I mean, some of us wear tight attire here because you need to; it helps the muscles. But he wore for show.’

‘You think he was advertising?’ asked Perry.

‘Advertising,’ said Lyn. ‘What do you mean by advertising?’

‘Like his body, the way he was, his—’

‘Well, I don’t know about that, but he was certainly a show-off.’

‘What about your class? How many men are in your class?’ asked Sabine.

‘It was unusual to get a man coming along, but he had been coming for a long while.’

‘And the women? What’s your class like?’

‘Well, it’s mainly women in their middle age, up to older ones. There is an occasional young one that comes in.’

‘And the women liked him.’

‘It was hard not to like Dev, even though he was a show-off. I mean, the way he talked to them, he was, well, just good that way, you know. He was able to get alongside. Made them feel good.’

‘All of them felt like this.’

‘Well, most of them liked him, and they would look. I didn’t mind looking, but he was a bit of a show-off. Everyone except Dolaig MacIver. She said he was a poncy foreigner.’

‘What’d he say to that?’

‘Well, she said it to his face. I told her not to be so racist. She’s ex-military—Intelligence and infiltration if you believe the rumours—but look at her. And what would Dolaig do with him? Dolaig’s in her seventies. Dolaig’s not exactly, well, you know—’

‘But she was very anti him, was she?’

‘Every time he came in, she was rude to him. I mean, it wasn’t an all-out war. The others laughed and joked with him. Dolaig didn’t. Dolaig was much more, well, he’s this, he’s that.’

‘But he was always laughing and joking with the others.’

‘Oh yes, and he’d move around the class, you know? It’s not a class where everybody comes in and stays in the same place. So he was always near somebody else, and each week you’d see him, he was talking away to them, you’d see them smiling, laughing.’

‘Have you heard any of the rumours?’ asked Perry.

‘Which rumours?’ asked Lyn.

‘Will you tell us which ones you’ve heard,’ said Sabine.

‘Well, I saw the thing about his rooms, but you know what? There were rumours about that house before. What was a guy like him wanting a five-bedroom house for? People said he had romper rooms and stuff, but I never heard the actual ones called out. And a dungeon, I mean—’

‘Could you see him in a dungeon?’ asked Perry, to which the two women flashed a look at Perry. ‘No, I mean, could you see him operating that? Could you see him being someone in a dungeon and getting into all that BDSM stuff?’

‘I am not sure I would know what all that BDSM stuff would be,’ said Lyn.

‘What about you?’ asked Sabine.

‘What about me?’ said Lyn.

‘Did he ever come on to you? Ever get close?’

‘He was very friendly,’ said Lyn. ‘Very, very friendly. And we got on pretty well even though I thought he was a show-off. He did once proposition me. I pointed out that I was married, but he didn’t know because I take my wedding ring off before I work out. So it was understandable that he didn’t know because my husband doesn’t tend to come in here. This is part of my business—I run it. But I have to say that once I said so, he backed down immediately. He didn’t push.’

‘What about money? Did he ever talk about asking for money from you, you know, in return for—?’ asked Perry.

‘You what?’ said Lyn.

‘Did he ever offer services for money?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Lyn. ‘Absolutely no idea. He did not offer me money, and I wouldn’t be paying money. I don’t need to pay people money for that.’

‘I’m not saying you did,’ said Perry.

‘So, what’s true about these rooms?’ asked Lyn.

‘We’re not at liberty to let out that information,’ said Sabine. ‘Not while we’re still interviewing people. I’m sorry.’

‘Well, obviously something’s up if you’re asking me about being paid for, or rather giving him money for things.’

‘How long has he been coming?’ asked Perry.

‘Well, over five years now, he’s been with us. And he stuck at it. He’s part of the class. To be honest, we’ll miss him. You know, was always funny to see what Dev would be wearing this time? He came in once wearing, oh, skin-tight shorts and that set the girls off. Oh my goodness, all the jokes about lunchboxes and all that stuff.

‘This is a class, though, and in fairness to him, he got on with the class. He improved and well, we saw the results. I know I said he was a show-off, but he had a damn good body. And if I weren’t married, would I be interested in a body like that? Yes. Would I be interested in somebody like Dev who occupied that body? No, not for me. Which is a terrible thing to say now he’s dead, but you asked for the truth.’

‘Yes, we did,’ said Perry.

‘Outside of Pilates, did you know him well?’ asked Sabine.

‘I saw him about the town. He was with us before he had that big house. Of course, once he got the big house, most people didn’t see him as much. He used to be out and about in the town. I mean, you’d have seen him in some pubs and clubs. Although he never drank much, kept his shape.

‘That was the thing about him. He would’ve been out and about in the town and chatting up women and things. And he always fancied himself to score a good woman, a nice-looking woman. The younger ones were more of a challenge for him, I think. That was the thing. He was very good with the older ones and the middle-aged people like me. He could make you feel good, but his eyes, and I know this from watching him from the front, his eyes went on the younger ones. Well, they were closer to his age.

‘I guess Dev was what? Heading towards thirties? In his thirties, and they were sort of in their mid-twenties or slightly younger. It’s perfectly natural he’d be looking in that direction. But he always had a word for the older girls. They loved him. They really did. Yes, he’ll be missed. He was a character, a proper character, a bit of a rogue in a lot of ways, but you know what? He was our rogue; we liked him; he was part of our class. I’m sad to see he’s gone. Bit of a rough way to go, though. I heard they stuck a stiletto in him.’

‘Well, it’s come out on the news now,’ said Sabine, ‘so yes, somebody killed him with a stiletto through the chest.’

‘Well, it wouldn’t be me then,’ said Lyn, ‘can’t wear stilettos, hate them.’

‘Well, thank you very much,’ said Sabine. ‘I’ll let you get back to the class, or maybe we need to interview the class at some point. I’ll think about that, and we may need to come and talk to you again, but thank you very much.’

Sabine and Perry went outside, stood beside the car, breathing in the air.

‘What do you make of her?’ asked Sabine.

‘Well, she’s not his type. She seems happily married. Didn’t protest too much. And obviously she liked the look of him; he was good for the class and whatever. No, she seemed annoyed that he’d died, that was all.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ said Sabine. ‘I’m not sure she would have known if there were dealings going on underneath.’

‘The old guard didn’t like him then,’ said Perry.

‘No, seemed not. Not Dolaig’s cup of tea. So, do we think he hasn’t advertised here? Do we think this has not been a place of contact?’ asked Sabine.

‘I wouldn’t dismiss it yet,’ said Perry. ‘I mean, it’s awkward; it is awkward, but there’s obviously rumours. She’d heard of them. She’d heard of the rooms, even though she didn’t know exactly what they were. I think I’m right. I think he’s advertising. Maybe he did here, maybe he didn’t. Maybe this wasn’t the place, or he didn’t establish it that well here, or he funnelled them through to somewhere else.’

‘You seem a bit stuck now. I thought for a while you were the expert on this.’

‘Well,’ said Perry, ‘with my physique and body, I can understand why you would think that, but actually no.’

‘We get worried about your physique, Perry,’ said Sabine. ‘I mean, you made a comment about Hope that she wouldn’t understand these women.’

‘And she doesn’t, and you might not too.’

‘I disagree with you,’ said Sabine. ‘I understand because I’m not the cool person. I get left out in other ways. Emmett doesn’t look for a cool person; he’s a geek, that’s why it works.’

‘And Tanya just wants a lovely, big, cuddly belly to come up to,’ said Perry.

‘I think she sees much more than that, Perry,’ said Sabine. ‘Don’t downplay yourself.’

Getting into the car, Perry said, ‘Leisure centre next?’ Then he stopped. ‘This tunnel, it’s so well set up. He’s taking care of everything for them. They only have to get themselves to a place. They can come out of that place, and they can say they were just needing time out, it was some sort of refuge. Others can’t get into that room because Alex will stop the gentleman following them. So therefore, if they’re caught up at Dev’s pad, they can always come back into that room.

‘I wonder did he have cameras set up. Maybe had a warning system. There certainly must have been a number that Alex would have contacted him on. And they said that Alex could fight. He was throwing his fists at sixteen in a proper way. Our Dev’s clever,’ said Perry. ‘He’s very clever. And if he’s clever, he’s not going to risk with women who are liable to just panic and drop the ball. This is going to be tough.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘He’s sensible enough to back away when threatened. He went to Lyn and she’s married, and he just stepped right away from it. But he was prepared to ask the question. Now he only got it wrong with her because she didn’t have a wedding ring on.’

‘You don’t think she was his type then, but he asked anyway.’

‘She talked about him having a type,’ said Perry, ‘but that was for him. You know, that was for him, but what he’s doing with the older women is for business, and the younger women might not be the great business option. Because, frankly, they’re younger and have more chance of pulling someone. They will not be suffering the frustrations yet. Now, there may be one or two, but no, he’s gone on the profitable business line. He’s looking at the middle-aged and slightly older women, the ones who have made their play and life hasn’t worked out quite right. They’re missing something in their lives. That’s what he’s after,’ said Perry.

‘And that’s why Hope doesn’t understand it,’ said Sabine.

‘Well, she’s had a few relationship problems from what I understood, but now she’s got her John; she’s got her baby; she’s happy. She wouldn’t be one to go after. Neither would you. These are very specific women. Even from the point of view of fitness, they like to think they’re fit. There’s no point going for a woman who doesn’t think she’s fit at all, because she’s not fit for that kind of thing.’

‘Do you know something, Perry?’ said Sabine. ‘Sometimes you scare me. You scare me with what you think about and what you know.’

‘And you don’t get the half of it,’ said Perry. ‘Tanya knows what I’m like through and through; she’s terrified.’

Chapter 11

Alan Ross sat looking at the DVLA record for the car which was owned by Wendy Grant. Using the details provided, he produced an AI mock-up of it, complete with the number plate registration. He thought this might be a method of jarring the memory of Alex, the young man who watched the door for Dev Dalgetty’s women’s refuge. He’d try the image with Alex, and if he didn’t have any luck, he’d get an image of Wendy’s actual car. Ross preferred to keep at a distance from the Grants unless Alex recognised the car.

Printing off the image, Ross made his way to his car and drove out to the refuge house, parking a little way back in the street. There was no one here, and he checked he hadn’t been followed. The last thing the team wanted was the press getting hold of this tunnel theory or subjecting Alex to thousands upon thousands of questions. The young lad was obviously a troubled soul, and he needed to be protected, not press scrutiny.

Ross quietly walked up to the front door of the pseudo women’s refuge, and knocked on it. Shortly after, Alex opened the door, and Ross stepped inside quickly. Ross quickly pulled out his badge.

‘Detective Sergeant Alan Ross.’

‘I’ve seen you on the television with Inspector Hope.’

‘Inspector McGrath, yes. Hope’s her first name? I am her sergeant. I’d like you to take a look at an image here for me, Alex. An image of a car, and I want to know if you ever saw a car like this sitting outside.’

‘Well, it’s a red car.’

‘Yes, it is,’ said Ross. ‘But paying closer attention to the shape of it, the type.’

‘I think so.’

‘What about the number plate? You recognise it?’

‘Well, if I am honest with you,’ said Alex, ‘I’ve seen a car of that sort of shape in our street. But the number plate, I can’t say if it was or wasn’t. Don’t really pay that much attention to them.’

‘But you are saying you think you saw a car like this.’

‘Frequently, outside in the street here. Parked off, not up close. But further down the street.’

‘Parked off, okay,’ said Ross, ‘thank you.’

Stepping back out onto the street, Ross walked along towards his car. But he was scanning; there was no car like Wendy’s here now. Ross decided he would see Wendy Grant, but he’d go as a follow-up excuse about the domestic incident. He didn’t want to play his hand yet.

The Lochs area was a little outside Stornoway, but only took about twenty minutes to drive to. During that time, Ross pondered on how he would approach this. He didn’t want to stir up a domestic incident either, even though he was coming at this from a completely different angle.

The house itself was down a winding single-track road, sat off to one side, and was one of those island properties that had clearly been a source of pride. Although the house was maybe forty to fifty years old, it looked intact. The garden was neat, despite the surrounding bogland. The whole place had a fairly cheerful atmosphere. There was a man outside working in the garden, a car in the drive, which wasn’t Wendy Grant’s, a black BMW.

Ross parked up, and the man looked up from his digging. He was fairly tall, certainly taller than Ross, but maybe into his sixties. He fixed Ross with a stare as he approached.

‘If you’re a salesman, you can turn around and just walk away; don’t want anything,’ said the man.

‘I’m not a salesman,’ said Ross, slightly annoyed that he would be mistaken for one. ‘I am a police officer.’ He pulled out his credentials and held them up for the man to examine. ‘Detective Sergeant Ross,’ he said.

‘What’s this about, then?’ said the man gravely.

‘It’s just a routine call after the trouble the other night.’

‘Well, Wendy’s not here; she’s out.’

‘Do you know where she is?’ asked Ross.

‘She’s getting the shopping; I don’t do the shopping; she does the shopping.’

‘Okay. Do you mind if I come inside and have a chat for a moment?’

‘Suppose if I say no, you’re going to find another way to talk to me.’

‘It’s just a little less formal than standing out here,’ said Ross.

The man nodded and indicated that Ross should follow him. They went around to the rear of the house, where the man took off his Wellington boots and stepped inside. Ross followed, and the man took off his boiler suit before leading Ross through into a neatly laid-out sitting room. As was his way, Ross immediately scanned the room, looking around him for any clues as to the current state of the Grant’s relationship.

‘Well, what have you got to say?’

‘It’s just routine,’ said Ross. ‘I just want to make sure everyone’s all right, you included. It can be a bit of a problem when we come out; people then see it being more serious.’

‘Well, there wasn’t much.’

‘Well, I think it was a bit more than that. You accused Wendy of spending money on a gigolo. At least that’s what the report said.’

‘Yeah, well. I was just annoyed with Wendy. She spends money more than what we can afford, and she’s daft. She goes off on these holidays.’

Ross was looking beyond the man now and saw several photographs. There was a woman he thought must be Wendy.

‘Is that your wife?’

‘Yes,’ said the man. ‘Look at her. Stupid pictures.’

‘She likes the princess thing, does she? Is that Disneyland?’

‘Yeah, it is,’ said the man.

‘When were you in Disneyland?’

‘I wasn’t, I don’t go. Don’t want to go to a kids’ playground. It’s ridiculous. She’s a grown woman, a flaming grown woman. She’s got responsibilities around here. Doesn’t need to be running off like that with her friends.’

‘So, you don’t particularly like the idea of it?’

‘You work hard, you know,’ said the man. ‘You work hard; she blows money like that. She’s got a car; she’s got nice things. Doesn’t want to go on holiday with me?’

And no wonder, thought Ross, Miserable sod.

‘Does Wendy work at all?’

‘Wendy looks after the house; it’s my job to work. She’s off doing the shopping; she puts my dinner on the table. That’s the way my mother and father were, that’s the way her mother and father were, that’s the way we are. Suppose you might find it strange, you in your fancy suit.’

Ross thought he was being treated a little unfairly because his suit, although smart, was not flashy like an insurance man’s . He didn’t feel greasy or a smooth talker. He just looked smart.

‘So, she spends your money. Does she have access to the bank account, or is it just yours if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘You’ll find out some way or other, won’t you, if I don’t tell you. We’ve a joint account. The money goes in. She has a housekeeping account as well. She’s been spending. An awful lot coming out every month. She said the price of groceries was going up, and I am sure they have, but not by that bloody much. I’m sure she was just running off for a holiday. Look,’ said the man, ‘that’s what bothered me, okay? The gigolo thing, that she had anything to do with him, is absolute nonsense. That’s just me losing the rag a bit. But she’s not playing ball with me, you know.’

‘Maybe the two of you can get a bit of help with that. Sit down and talk with someone.’

‘I don’t want to talk with some bloody shrink,’ said the man. ‘At the end of the day, we only have what we have coming in. She can’t spend more than that. I work damn hard for this.’

‘Do you have any kids?’ asked Ross.

‘No,’ said the man. ‘We couldn’t.’

He looked down at the photos again. Wendy was a red-haired woman. While Ross was no judge of this, she seemed reasonably attractive for her age. The man before him was evidently in his sixties, but Wendy was maybe mid-forties. She was quite buxom, and Ross thought that the right man could be quite interested in her.

‘You said she goes away with a group. Friends, is it?’

‘No, they’re not even from the island. They’re from all over, and she goes away, and she meets up with them, and then she goes out to these theme parks. Oh, she loves it. I mean, she’s got outfits and everything when she’s over there, not in the house. She doesn’t keep them in the house. She knows I don’t like them.’

‘I guess everybody likes a bit of fantasy,’ said Ross.

‘You don’t need fantasy; you just need a damn woman by your side. Plenty to do here, plenty to get on with.’

Ross was increasingly getting the impression that Wendy might be slightly put upon or at least fed up. The man was a complete grouch. He didn’t seem to have a good word to say, not even about his wife.

‘When was the last time she went away?’

‘Three months ago, it was only for a week, but she goes away on these things and spends a lot of money, and then comes back. We’re no better off for it. No better for us.’

‘Well, like I say, the two of you should get a little bit of help with that. Talk to someone. Seriously consider that,’ said Ross. He looked down again at the photographs.

There’s only ever Wendy in the pictures. If you went away with people, if it was that good, you’d want them in the picture with you, wouldn’t you? Or was she away with someone? Was she away with someone you couldn’t put in a photograph?’

‘Do you know when she’ll be back?’ asked Ross.

‘Oh, it should be an hour or two at least. She might go off and see a friend.’

‘Well, I might need to speak to her.’

‘Aye, you do that,’ said the man. ‘Won’t do any good. The two of us are good. We are what we are. I mean, this is marriage, isn’t it?’

God, I hope not, thought Ross. He couldn’t imagine Angus and he being like this at that age.

‘You’ll know as a married man, won’t you?’

‘Yes,’ said Ross. ‘Marriage has its difficulties.’ He delivered it in the flattest tone ever and then thanked the man before stepping back outside.

As he got back in the car, reversed out of the driveway and drove back into town, he thought to himself: Her car in the street outside the refuge. She surely fits the criteria. If you couldn’t be unhappy with that man, you could never be unhappy in life. And a princess. There was a princess room.

He thought about the picture of Wendy in her princess gear at Disneyland. Did Dev go away with her? Or was she actually going out with friends? Was there a group that went there? But Dev couldn’t take that sort of time, could he?

There were a lot of questions around Dev and Ross would have to get back into the money side. His mind reeled over the image of Wendy again. He was right, wasn’t he? That sort of buxom forty-year-old. Or was he just following an image? A stereotype. Was that the age that women got, well, restless? Men got restless, didn’t they? Did everyone just get restless?

He thought about all those TV programmes. Everyone was running around with everyone else. This was the problem. What was he dealing with here? And how far would people go? Could you actually have a group of women experimenting with an unknown gigolo? Was Dev capable of that? His large house said yes.

Ross would get back to the office and talk to Hope about it, and then he’d have to track down Wendy. Hope would have a better idea of what women thought. Well, actually, maybe she wouldn’t. Perry had said that. Hope had no idea what it was like not to be wanted. He said Hope came from the other side. Someone who was desperate not to be hungered after, not to be seen as an object, not to be seen as just beautiful, but to be competent, to be a detective.

Sabine? Well, maybe she didn’t know what these women were like either. And then Ross thought about it. How do you go up to a woman and say to her, ‘You’ll understand this. You’ll have been lonely. You’ll have felt unattractive.’ No, he would need to step with care. Maybe it was Perry’s domain. Maybe Perry was the one to go about this. He seemed to understand people—women and men.

The bogland rolled past as Ross made up his mind to search out Perry first. Who would have thought it? Perry, the man to teach Ross about what women wanted. Well, Ross didn’t have a clue.

Chapter 12

The trip down to the leisure centre, after the visit to the dance studio, was not a long one. A mere couple of minutes down the road. The leisure centre was known all over the small island, and as Perry parked up, he saw Sabine almost bounce out of the car. They were going into territory that wasn’t Perry’s. The dance studio had not really been either, but Sabine wasn’t a dancer. Perry, well, he’d been taking the odd lesson, though he was no expert. But here, Sabine would be at home.

She was fit, not in the good-looking sense, although clearly, she was that too, but she was very fit. Hope was powerful. Tall. Sabine was fit. He always thought that Sabine could outrun Hope, could outdistance her. Though Hope, with hand-to-hand combat, was probably better. Perry was happier to fight dirty. He’d put himself into situations where he didn’t have the physical prowess. He just had the bulk.

‘Plan of action?’ asked Perry.

‘Straight to the boss. Find out if Dev took any classes, or whatever else he did here. Maybe see what Dev was like in class.’

The pair walked up to the reception desk, where a woman smiled back at them.

‘Police,’ said Sabine. ‘I’m DS Ferguson, this is DC Perry. We’re here on official business, I’m afraid. I’d like to speak to the manager.’

‘Through that door, there,’ said the woman. She went over and knocked at the door, announced who they were, and then ushered them into the room. A man on the other side, sitting in a tracksuit and blue polo shirt, looked at them ominously.

‘What can I help you with?’ he said.

‘You’ve obviously heard about the death of Mr Dalgetty from the big house, just a bit away from here.’

‘We’ve all heard about Dev. Everyone knows Dev here.’

‘Dev had a subscription,’ said Perry, ‘to the leisure centre. Do you know what he used it for?’

‘What was Dev known for?’ said the man. ‘I shouldn’t say this of him, but he was known for being a flirt with the women. Believe me, he was some guy with the women.’

‘Tell me more,’ said Perry.

‘I mean, even when you talked to him, he was always talking about women. Not in a bad way. He would flirt with them, but he wasn’t nasty. A pro with them and all sorts of women. He had that banter about him, that ability.’

‘When he spoke with you about women, who was he speaking about?’ asked Perry.

‘Well, he liked..,’ said the man, ‘should I say this? He liked women that were a bit younger than him, maybe early twenties, mid-twenties. Flirted a lot with the older ones, but he didn’t mean it. He never talked to us about them. Always talked to me about the younger ones. Not too young, obviously. Those who had got a job or left school, you know. Wouldn’t want you getting the wrong idea. Maybe even some of the university ones coming back.

‘Oh, he could look at the young women but he wasn’t, well, pally with them. None of the women ever called him that. He was well-liked by them, made them feel better, I think, whatever their age. He was a class act in that way. Have to hand it to him. Not like the average Lewis man who couldn’t chat up anything. And he was harmless. I don’t think any man would have had a problem with him talking to their wife. Never went anywhere, did it? But you had all those rumours. I’m sure some lucky girl got in there.’

‘But what did he do here? Was he a swimmer? Was he in the gym? Was he—’

‘He didn’t use our gym. I know that. I’ve never seen him in the gym. He would swim occasionally, but he was here for an aqua fit class in the main. That was run by Laura.’

‘Can we speak to Laura?’ asked Sabine.

‘Of course,’ said the man. ‘Just hold on a moment.’

He walked out and asked a few questions, and then disappeared for a couple of minutes. A woman entered the room, whistling, followed by the manager. She was dressed in a yellow top and red shorts with the word ‘Lifeguard’ across her back.

‘This is Laura,’ he said, ‘she’s one of our aqua fit instructors. The class Dev was in was hers.’

‘Hi,’ said Sabine, ‘I’m DS Ferguson, and this is DC Perry. We’re just asking about Dev Dalgetty. He apparently was in your class.’

The woman nodded her head. ‘Well, yes, he was in it, but he didn’t need to be in it. The man was in great shape,’ she said.

‘Tell me about your class, though,’ said Sabine. ‘What ages are they?’

‘Well, most of them are fifty-plus at least. Dev was probably the youngest there; he was only one of two men, the other man, John, easily eighty. Other than that, it’s women.’

‘And you do what in aqua fit?’ asked Perry.

‘It’s fitness in the water, isn’t it?’ said Laura. ‘We have the pool floor up so they can stand while they do it. There’s another aqua fit class I take. That is slightly younger, and for people who are keen to do it without touching the floor. It’s a little more exercise, harder going. But this lot, oh, they’re like a little bunch of groupies together.’

‘How do you mean?’ asked Sabine.

‘Afterwards, they’ll be up in the cafe there.’

‘Did Dev join them in the cafe?’

‘Not really, sort of spoke to them on the way in and out. And while they’re in the pool. That was a problem at times. Had to tell him to shut up a few times. Let them get on with their exercises. Couldn’t hear what he was saying. Probably flirting as ever.’

‘What did the other women say about him?’

‘I’m not keen on that sort of thing, you know, and I don’t ask about people in my classes.’

‘Mr Dalgetty’s dead,’ said Sabine, ‘I need to know about him. So, I understand it’s rumour. I understand it’s hearsay and you’re not comfortable. I’ll take that under advisement. But I need to know what you heard.’

‘Well, they were always on about it.’

‘About what?’ asked Perry.

‘You know, his . . . you know.’

‘His what?’ asked Sabine.

‘Bedroom abilities,’ said Laura, clearly embarrassed. ‘There’s all that sort of talk there. To be quite honest, they’re quite a rude lot. I find them hard going sometimes. They used to catcall him when he came into the pool at times, and you could see some of them looking at him. But don’t get me wrong, the man was built well. He worked out. Oh, but God, did he love himself too. He loved the attention from them, played up to them, and got close.’

‘Do you think any of the women would go for him?’ asked Perry.

‘Go for him?’ said Laura.

‘Well,’ said Perry, ‘if the invite was there, okay? Forget the age gap for a moment and forget how. But if any of these women had a chance with him, do you think they would take it?’

Laura paused for a moment, deep in thought. ‘I was going to say you’re being daft. I was going to say it’s ridiculous but, do you know what? I think a lot of them would. They’re the sort that seem all proper and that, but you get them together. Well. Just as bad as a group of leery men.’

Sabine was struggling not to laugh at that and just gave a faint smile.

‘Can we get a list of the attendees of your class?’ asked Perry.

‘You don’t seriously think they’ve got anything to do with it.’

‘It’s just leads we’re following up. Also, if they saw him outside, maybe they saw something else. We, we just have to follow our lines of inquiry.’

‘Somebody put a stiletto through him, that’s what I heard,’ said Laura.

‘You heard right,’ said Perry. ‘That’s public knowledge now.’

‘That seems a bit much. I’m not sure women in my group could do that.’

‘You’d be surprised what people can do,’ said Perry. ‘Be surprised who people are. You think you know them, and then something in their past says this or that; we have to just follow everything up. This may be a dead end, but he was such a quiet man we have to investigate everything, and we certainly appreciate your time,’ said Perry. ‘If you can get that list.’

Laura laughed, and the sports manager leaned over from his desk. ‘I don’t want to put a spoiler in your works, but I’ve got to be honest with you. I don’t think Dev would have gone for those women. Dev liked to think he was something, and you know he wanted the younger women all flocking around him. You know, men are men, aren’t we? That sort of prime of, what, twenty to thirty. Well, that’s when you’re attracted, isn’t it?’

‘That’s when women are at their best for mating,’ said Perry, causing Sabine to stare at him. ‘Well, what?’ said Perry. ‘I mean, that’s the whole thing behind this. Isn’t it? Keeping the species going. So therefore, you have the female who looks attractive, the male mates with her. You know it’s all natural. It’s—’

‘I’ve been there, Perry,’ said Sabine, ‘but you know there’s a way to describe it, there’s a way to put it out there.’

‘That’s because we try to go around it,’ said Perry. ‘We don’t want to be going around it here. It’s the natural raw instinct we have to look at, and whether people cling to that or are able to push past it.’

The sports centre manager looked at them both. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’ll tell you now, Dev’s instinct was for a twenty-five-year-old, probably slightly buxom and, well, dark hair.’

‘That’s pretty specific. You anyone in mind?’ asked Sabine.

‘No, no, he, he was talking with me about this one day. This is the thing; he used to talk about the women. He used to talk about it when he was in the bar, and he saw this woman, that woman. It just occurred to me that most of them seemed to be along that type of fit. Now. Sometimes there was a blonde or there was a redhead or sometimes . . . he didn’t describe the whole shape, although often he did,’ said the sports manager, looking slightly embarrassed. ‘And, uh, well yeah, that was Dev. Pretty upfront. A chancer, a rascal. But a harmless critter, really.’

Laura came back in with a printed list of names. Perry took one look at it, and asked if they could get addresses from the records of the sports centre. After that was duly produced, they thanked the sports centre manager and stepped back outside.

Sitting in the car for a moment.

‘What do you think?’ said Sabine.

‘I think he’s running a business,’ said Perry. ‘You’ve got these older women. Everybody says he doesn’t go for them, and that’s a clever ploy. Just look at the other ones. Or he just knows that’s his best client base.’

‘Client base, seriously,’ said Sabine.

‘Seriously, look, we’re talking about somebody selling himself for sex, trying to make a lot of money from it. Where can he get the best customers for that? Young women? They don’t fork money out for sex. They don’t need to. Most of them are good-looking enough to get it. I mean, in your younger days, did you ever think, “Oh, if I can’t get something here, I’ll pay for it?” Men? Yes. That thought comes to a lot of them. But then again, we get put off a lot more often than you guys do.’

‘Really,’ said Sabine. ‘You’re really opening up a whole new avenue of how I see men now.’

‘You won’t ask Emmett?’

‘I am not asking Emmett anything,’ said Sabine.

‘Why not? If you’re that close, just ask him. Tanya knows me inside out.’

‘Do you know what, Perry?’ said Sabine. ‘She probably does.’

‘That drive in a man, that attraction doesn’t go away. But you women, you lot seem different to me.’

‘Oh, really?’ said Sabine.

‘Yes,’ said Perry. ‘I mean when you look at marriage, most marriages peter out on the sexual side as they get older, but for some women it doesn’t. And then, they’re in this sort of place where you can’t bring it up to him, can you? And if he’s getting well past it, and there are some men, or maybe you just don’t like him anymore, well, what do you do? Especially if he doesn’t pay attention.’

‘You might have something there, Perry. I’ll give you that one,’ said Sabine. ‘But trust me, this is an education.’

‘I’m happy to help,’ said Perry. ‘But I think I’m onto something with this. Really, I really do. And like I said before, you wouldn’t get it. You’ve never had the problem of not being wanted. Have you?’

‘Do you know what, Perry?’ said Sabine. ‘I get what you’re saying about Hope. She’s just been that figure, and her looks have driven talk about her all the time. She’s probably sick of it. Me, I just haven’t been that interested. I didn’t get into Emmett because of how he looked. Now, I do like how he looks. I got into Emmett because he was just . . . he’s just Emmett. I love the way he is. And I think he just got into me because we clicked. I think—’

‘Let me stop you there,’ said Perry.

‘What?’ said Sabine.

‘You clicked. Yes, and I don’t mean to say that’s wrong. But there’ll be the other side too.’

‘Perry, see if Emmett and I ever have problems, you will not be sitting in that chair helping us out, okay?’

‘I am available if you want.’

Sabine shook her head. She was trying to erase the image of Perry sitting across from Emmett and her, side by side on a sofa. They were telling him their most intimate details, telling them where they were having difficulty with each other. And meanwhile, Perry was stuffing a burger in his mouth.

Sabine’s phone broke her thoughts as it vibrated against her.

‘Hope, what’s up?’

‘Castle grounds, the Creed river, get there now. A body’s been found.’

Chapter 13

Hope McGrath stared at the river, rushing down the roughly hewn channel, contained by the steep banks on either side. There was a path up one side, with trees overhanging it, and it rose steadily up the side of the Creed. On the other side were more trees. The far bank was difficult to get across to. There’d been rain recently, and the river was in good flow. But trapped on one side had been the body of a man.

It had been pulled out, laid out inside a tent, and Jona Nakamura was tending to it. All around the tent, her team in their white coverall outfits were taking photographs and marking up. But Hope stood, hands in her black jeans, leather jacket flapping in the light breeze. She stared at the water. This was where it had happened before.

Back in the day, when she first worked with Macleod, they’d been here in the middle of the night and meeting someone. Then they were attacked, and Hope had got into a fight in the water. It took her back, and for a moment she could feel Seoras standing beside her, telling her what to look at. Telling her what he thought. Telling her what needed done. She shook her head, the red ponytail flapping behind her.

‘It’s just a river; you shouldn’t get annoyed at it like that,’ said Perry from behind her.

‘Oh, you’re here,’ said Hope, turning round.

‘What do we have?’ asked Sabine.

‘It’s a middle-aged man with a knife stuck into his heart. He had been in the river, and he came to a stop, just at those rocks over there,’ said Hope, pointing. ‘Walker raised the call, out with their dog, and by the time we got here our victim was already dead. Jona’s people have fished him out. She’s looking at him in the tent.’

‘Any idea who he is?’ asked Sabine.

‘This is still pretty raw, Jona’s going through his clothing and effects. She’ll be ready in a few minutes. Are you two getting anywhere?’

Perry relayed their conversation regarding the classes they had been to.

‘You still think Dev Dalgetty was trawling for business?’ asked Hope.

‘Oh, you better believe it,’ said Sabine. ‘Perry has women, sorted, classified, everything. We’re all just looking to pay for a hot man in our lives.’

‘That’s not what I said,’ said Perry. ‘Certain women.’

‘That we wouldn’t understand,’ spat Sabine.

‘Well, he’s right with that bit,’ said Hope. ‘I’ve never had to go looking for that side of things; guys have always been too willing. I’ve always been—’

‘See,’ said Perry, missing the sarcasm. ‘But there are some women, and especially at certain times of their lives, who still feel the drive, and for whatever reason it’s not there.’

‘We’ve got a dead man this time,’ said Hope. ‘Does that mean that somebody’s found out about someone? Does that mean that we’ve got a wife who’s had to react? Is there a triangle going on here? Did Dev get into the middle of a marriage?’

‘Maybe we’ll find out,’ said Sabine. ‘There’s Jona coming out.’

The diminutive Asian woman strode across to Hope, pulling her to one side. The area was cordoned off by uniformed police and Jona knelt down close to the river, pointing over to where the body had been found.

‘So,’ said Jona, ‘body is found there. I don’t think the incident happened here. I’ve got some of my team checking along the riverbank further up; that’s why we’ve closed all the paths. Now, he’s been stabbed with a knife in his heart. It’s a sharp fishing knife, but it’s available in most shops that do that kind of thing. So, there’s nothing unusual about it. There are several wounds around the heart area. From an initial look, it looks like a frenzied attack. They’re not professionally done. Professionals wouldn’t have gone in from this angle anyway; they’d have come in from the back. These are stabbed in roughly the right area, but they’re not close and they’re one after the other, here and there, not pinpointed. It looks like a wild attack.’

‘And what, the body’s then fallen into the river and gone downstream?’ asked Hope.

‘The river’s fast enough to keep it moving. Now, where we are here, there are several rocks. The pool’s deep, but you then have to come quite high to get over these rocks. I can see why he’s been caught up here.’

‘How long has he been dead?’

‘A few hours, I reckon,’ said Jona. ‘That’s also fitting with where we are. A lot of people come by here. Walk their dogs, etc. So, the fact he’s been found reasonably quickly ties in with that.’

‘We’re out here in a park too—the castle grounds,’ said Perry. ‘So, if someone was planning to kill someone, you wouldn’t do it here. Dump him in the river and the body’s found in no time. You would go somewhere else. You would hide the body, you know. Doing it here ties in with a frenzied attack idea.’

‘He wasn’t fishing, was he?’ asked Sabine.

‘Found no other indications of fishing gear left behind. There are a couple of fishermen up at the big ponds further round in the castle grounds. They haven’t seen anybody. Could he have been killed upstream of that and gone in through those ponds without them noticing? Unlikely, but possible. Still quite a way to move all the way down without catching on any of the rocks from that point down to here. So, no, I think he’s probably stabbed two or three hundred metres further up at most.’

Jona looked up as one of our colleagues in a white coverall strode towards her.

‘Yes?’ said Jona.

‘Jona, we’ve got some blood. It’s about a hundred and fifty metres up, on the ground. Looks like that’s where he was knifed.’

‘Okay, let’s show the inspector and the gang.’

The man led them out wide, advising them to stay clear of the edges where the forensic teams were working. About a hundred metres up, he stopped and pointed to the edge, getting close and then pointing to the ground.

‘Numerous blood spatters here. Here, you can see there’s been an eruption of blood; it’s fairly fresh. Interestingly, some of it’s been, well, I would suggest licked by a dog or something. It’s been disturbed.’

‘What?’ said Hope. ‘Do you think somebody’s walked past and not seen the body in the river? And the dogs had a slurp?’

The man raised his hands. Hope turned and looked at Jona.

‘It’s a reasonable premise, but I can’t prove it yet. However, what I was getting to before we came up here is he’s one Torquil McNeil. He had ID on him. Got an address. I’ve taken some photographs of the ID and his wallet.’

‘That’s your first job when you get out of here,’ said Hope to Sabine. ‘You need to go to that address, find out more about the man, who he is, relatives, what he was doing here, okay?’

Sabine nodded. Hope turned and waved down one of the uniformed officers. ‘Do you know a Torquil McNeil?’ she asked.

‘Possibly,’ said the man. Jona took out her phone and showed a photograph on its screen, handing it over to the man.

‘Do you recognise him?’ she asked.

‘He owns a restaurant in town, that man. Yes, definitely the owner of a restaurant. I think he owns other properties as well. Hang on a minute.’ The man leaned into his radio and asked for the sergeant, who came along quickly.

Sgt John McAllister looked at the photograph and then gave a resigned look. ‘Really,’ he said. ‘Torquil. He’s not a bad man.’

‘Your colleague said he owned quite a few businesses, including a restaurant.’

‘Yes, he’s fairly high up, I guess, in the Stornoway world. That’s a pity. That’s a real shame. He’s our dead man?’

‘That’s what the ID says,’ said Jona.

‘Was it bad?’ asked the sergeant.

‘Multiple stab wounds, frenzied attack, probably,’ said Jona.

The sergeant was shaking his head, ‘Why? Why on earth?’

‘Do you know if he was married?’ asked Perry.

‘He’s not. He’s distinctly not married. I think he’s got a sister.’

‘Sabine and Perry are going to head out now; they’ll inform his sister,’ said Hope.

‘I can send one of ours if you want a familiar face.’

‘No, you’ve got enough to do here,’ said Hope. ‘Besides, if you know him that well, I’d rather we get a cold reaction.’

‘Understood,’ said the sergeant, but he didn’t seem to agree with the idea.

They walked back down to where Jona had her tent set up, and Hope made her way inside to look at the victim. He was wet, but he was indeed still fresh. He was a man of about fifty, maybe a little more and there seemed to be very little stain on his clothes. Jona was about to remove them, but instead had decided that she would take him up to the local hospital to work on him at the mortuary.

‘I’ll see what else I can do, what I can find out. The rest of the team’s going to be here. We’re going to see if there’re any footprints up and around, but to be honest, so many people come past here. You’ve got a hard path. We’ll see if anything’s been dropped or that, but I’m not sure we’ll get much.’

Hope turned round to the sergeant, ‘We’re going to need you to get your team to put a call out. Ask people who are in the castle grounds if they’ve seen anyone about. Try to get a list of names, figures, whatever.’

‘Time of death?’ asked the sergeant.

‘Few hours,’ said Jona.

‘We’ll work on a time frame of an hour ago, back to five hours. See who’s been about in that time. See if anybody’s noticed anything. Put the call out.’

Sgt McAllister nodded. He went off to organise his troops. Hope turned round to Perry and Sabine and sent them on their way, and then she came back outside.

‘You okay? I’m going to head off now,’ said Jona.

‘Yes,’ said Hope.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Jona.

‘It’s fine; you’re busy; it’s okay.’

‘It’s not okay and I’m not too busy for you. What’s the deal? What’s up?’

‘Oh, it’s just John. John’s struggling. Being away, being—’

‘He hasn’t got anything else to throw himself into.’

‘Of course he has, he’s got the wee one,’ said Hope.

‘Yeah, and who does that wee one want?’ said Jona.

‘Well, he wants Mum, doesn’t he? Mum’s busy. I have to be the detective now. And then I have to be Mum when I go back and then I—’

‘Think of it from John’s point of view,’ said Jona.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Hope.

‘I mean, think of it from John’s point of view.’

‘Well, we have a baby now. I’m away and then when I come back and there’s no time for me and John as you know, an intimate couple. That’s what’s bugging him. And it’s—’

‘It’s pretty cold,’ said Jona.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Hope, a little bemused.

‘Think of it from John’s point of view. It’s not like he has nothing to do, waiting for you so he can get intimate. John is working hard with Ian.’

‘I know that he’s doing great with him. He’s—’

‘But think of it, puts all that work in and who does Ian want? You! Little Ian takes up all of John’s efforts and then he steals you away from John.’

‘He’s a baby; of course, he’s going to do that.’

‘That will not make the frustration any less,’ said Jona.

‘How do you know this?’

‘Got a cousin having the same problem. She went out to work, and he struggled. He struggled because there’s no one there to tell him how wonderful he is, and the one person he’s giving all this attention to immediately seeks someone else.’

‘That’s not what John says. That’s not what John is all about. He just talks about us getting to be intimate.’

‘That’s just how a man knows he’s valued, isn’t it?’ said Jona. ‘You pay him that attention.’

‘I’ve told him to come out here. I’ve told him—’

‘That won’t solve anything,’ said Jona.

‘Why not? I’m here.’

‘And he’ll come out with Ian, and he’ll have to look after Ian, and there’ll be nobody else to look after Ian. So, he’ll never get towards what he actually really requires. And he’ll have to do a lot more work with Ian to get there. Whereas working out of home is a lot easier for him.’

‘So, what do I do?’ said Hope.

‘You solve the case, and you get home as quick as you can,’ said Jona. ‘And you give him some attention. You get Ian out of the picture for a couple of hours.’

‘Well, we were going to use Seoras and Jane, but they’re gallivanting around so much it hasn’t really happened.’

‘You have a team here. You ever thought of asking anyone else? Like Perry?’

‘I’m not having Perry look after a baby.’

‘Why?’ asked Jona.

‘Perry? He’ll probably take the wee man out to a burger bar.’

‘ He’s got Tanya there too, you know. And I’m here.’

‘Can’t dump the wee man on you.’

‘Hope,’ said Jona, ‘You’re going to have to learn not to manage all your own problems. Look for help. Help’s available. It’s up to you whether you take it. Anyway, I’m going to try and find out any more about who dug this knife into our dead man. I love my job.’ She gave Hope a smile, and then turned to walk back into the tent.

Chapter 14

As Perry drove out to the Lochs area, Sabine put a call in to Alan Ross. He was back at the station now. She asked him to look into Torquil McNeil and his businesses. Hope was managing the scene down at the Creed, and Ross was continuing to work through the online presence of different figures in the case.

Sabine always thought it was strange. Ross was technically the senior sergeant, and yet he didn’t do a lot of what the sergeant, the second in command, would do. Instead, that seemed to be divided up between the two of them. It was Hope’s way of working, though. Sabine was happy enough with it, although at some point she thought she would like to be a full sergeant, taking on all of that role.

‘I hate these things,’ said Perry.

‘What?’ said Sabine, suddenly brought back to the present.

‘Telling people someone’s dead. Never got used to it on this squad, you know? It’s a part of policing that I really hate. Having to tell someone their loved one’s dead. Oh and by the way, they were brutally murdered. Didn’t just keel over. If it’s their time to go, you know? That’s not so bad. Grampa’s ninety-five and his race has run because the heart got him. You know, kind of expect that. Grampa’s ninety-five and has been battered in the street. You know you don’t want to be telling people stuff like that.’

‘It’s just part of the job,’ said Sabine.

‘It’s the part I struggle with,’ said Perry.

‘I’ll do it then. It’s not a problem.’

They drove on and turned off into the Lochs area, passing through a couple of small villages before entering another one along single-track roads. There, an older house, possibly forty or fifty years old, stood with a large polytunnel to one side. There was clearly plenty growing inside it, and the garden to the front was well-manicured. Around it was the ever-present bogland and rocks.

Perry always found it amazing how the Isle of Lewis worked. People treated their houses as if they were on the mainland. Oh, we should have a lawn, we should have flower beds, and yet the grounds and the soil just did not conform to that standard. So, you ended up with a rather strange-looking attempt to enforce civility on a wild land. Perry shook his head. Then again, he never really saw the point of gardening.

Perry liked to enjoy life, enjoyed people, watching them strolling along canals, going out to restaurants. Seeing how people rubbed off on each other, that was Perry. That was the fun side of life.

‘This is it,’ he said. He parked the car, and the two of them got out, walking up to the front door. Sabine rapped a knocker loudly, and then a small woman came around the corner of the house from the direction of the polytunnel. She had gardening gloves on, a small pair of wellies, and was dressed in a rather plain skirt with a jumper.

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘Are you Miss McNeil?’

‘I was Miss McNeil. I’m now Mrs Black; my husband’s deceased. Who’s asking?’

‘Forgive me, my name is Detective Sergeant Sabine Ferguson. This is Detective Constable Warren Perry.’ Sabine showed her credentials. ‘Are you the sister of Torquil McNeil?’

‘Yes, I am Angusina Black, Torquil’s sister. Why are you asking?’

‘Can we go inside?’ asked Sabine.

‘But why are you asking?’ said the woman, looking nervous.

‘I think it’s best if we go inside,’ said Perry.

The woman nodded and led them around the back of the house and into the kitchen. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ asked the woman, but Sabine pointed over to a chair in the kitchen.

‘Maybe you should take a seat. I have some bad news.’

The woman stopped, turned on her heel and looked at Sabine, ‘What? What is it? What’s up with Torquil?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Sabine, ‘I have to inform you that Torquil is dead.’

‘Dead?’ said the woman. She rocked slightly, and Perry stepped to support her.

‘I am afraid so,’ said Sabine.

Perry helped the woman into the chair. She stopped, looking at the floor for a few moments, then looked back up at Sabine.

‘How? What happened?’

‘I’m afraid your brother was killed. Deliberately. We believe he was murdered.’

‘Murdered? Why would anyone murder Torquil? He went out this morning . . . I, I, he was here this morning, he was—’

‘Easy,’ said Perry. He nodded at Sabine, indicating there was a kettle, the other side of the kitchen.

‘Do you mind?’ asked Sabine, pointing at the kettle. The woman wasn’t even listening. Sabine filled the kettle and clicked it on.

‘Murdered. Murdered where?’ said the woman suddenly.

‘Did he say where he was going today?’

‘No,’ said Angusina. ‘He was off to town, looking after his businesses. That’s what he usually does.’

‘He was in the castle grounds,’ said Sabine. ‘We believe he was killed in the castle grounds.’ The woman shook her head. ‘Was Torquil close to anyone? I understand he wasn’t married.’

‘No, it’s just the two of us here. He didn’t have anyone special at the moment. Hasn’t had anyone special for several years. We just share the house because, well, this, this was our house back then. Guess it’s good to be together. Good to have company. Good to…’ The woman broke down.

Sabine made a cup of tea, heavy on the milk, and handed it to her. Her hands shook, and Sabine steadied them as the woman drank.

‘Did Torquil have his own rooms?’ asked Perry.

‘Go into the hall, up the stairs,’ said the woman. ‘As you come to the top, his bedroom is on the left. We shared the rest of the house.’

‘Do you mind if I have a quick search?’

‘No,’ said the woman.

Perry disappeared up the stairs of what he thought was a rather quaint house. There were pictures of the family on the side which Perry took a close note of. As he got to the top, he took a left and went into a room that was distinctly a man’s room.

It had the plainest of bed sheets. There were some pictures on the wall of a fishing competition and golfing outings. But the room was tidy. He opened the wardrobe and saw suits hanging. Pulling out the drawers of a chest, he saw neatly packed underwear and t-shirts, polo shirts, and other items of clothing. He looked around and saw a deodorant on the side. But there was so very little here.

There was a lamp beside the bed. Perry imagined the man sitting in bed with that lamp, but there were no books. Clearly, he wasn’t a reader. Perry thought about himself lying on the bed. Why would you have a lamp so close if there was nothing to see? There was no TV in the room. Why have a lamp close like that when there’s nothing to do, nothing to read, nothing to—?

Perry put his hand down and under the bed. He found a photograph album and pulled it out. Opening it, he found pictures inside. Carefully, he removed one. It looked like printer paper. The pictures didn’t come from laboratories or photo processors. These seemed to have been printed on a home printer.

They were clear enough, but each one was of a woman. She was on a beach wearing a bikini in a lot of them, and in another one she was in a room, dressed in a negligee. Another one had her standing up in a modern suit. And then she was there in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She had blonde hair and was possibly in her late forties or early fifties.

Perry took the photograph album and returned to the kitchen. As he stood there, he got that sinking feeling again. He was about to ask the woman about her brother and the photos he had in his room. The thing was, none of them were highly sexualized. Yes, she was wearing a negligee in one, but it wasn’t as if she was posing for any magazine covers. They looked like fairly normal photographs. But all were of the same woman. Always on her own.

That told Perry a story. These were photographs taken when they were alone because they couldn’t be seen in company. Something wasn’t right here.

‘Angusina,’ said Perry softly, and the woman turned to look at him, her eyes red with tears. Perry swallowed. He hated this bit.

‘There’s very little in your brother’s room, nothing untoward, but underneath his bed was this photo album. I’m wondering, do you know the woman in it?’

He opened up the photo album and held it in front of Angusina. It was a shock, for she reeled at first when she looked at the photographs. And then, as Perry flipped the pages, she looked again.

‘Do you know who that is?’ asked Perry.

‘No,’ said Angusina, ‘not at all. I have no idea who that is. That was in the room, that was—’

‘That was in his room. Underneath his bed,’ said Perry.

‘He never said. Was she from his past? Was she from farther back? He—’

‘No,’ said Perry. He pulled out one photograph, and on the back was a date. It was January of the previous year. Some others were even more recent.

‘Is that his . . . is that his woman? Is that . . .’

‘I don’t know,’ said Perry. ‘I don’t know exactly who she is, or their relationship to each other. I’m just telling you what we’ve found.’

Sabine gave Perry a nod and motioned that they should step outside. She asked Angusina if she was okay for a moment while they had a chat. The woman said very little, so Sabine stepped out with Perry.

‘That’s interesting,’ said Sabine.

‘He’s got some sort of woman, whether it’s a fancy woman or whether it’s a paid for escort is unclear. Whoever this woman is, we need to find out who she is,’ said Perry. ‘I think it’s important.’

‘Could be some sort of lover’s tiff, then. Maybe it’s not even anything to do with the other murder. Maybe it’s just been brought on by it,’ said Sabine.

‘I don’t know,’ said Perry. ‘How’s she?’

‘Can’t leave her alone. We’re going to have to get neighbours or somebody. She’s also going to have to identify the body at some point, or find somebody else in the family.’

‘Let’s call uniform. Get someone here initially. They’ll know the community better.’

‘Yes, but she’s definitely shocked,’ said Sabine. ‘She didn’t know this was coming. She is struggling and I don’t think she knows that woman either. It’s a lot to take in.’

‘Told you I hated this side of it,’ said Perry. ‘I absolutely hate it.’

They went back inside, and Sabine called for a uniformed officer to come out. They waited until they arrived, and then took their leave of Angusina, heading back towards the station. Once there, Sabine went to the desk sergeant with the photograph.

‘Do you recognise her?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘Do you want me to circulate it round everyone, see if anyone knows her from town?’

‘That would be good. I’ll get a copy up to Sergeant Ross as well, see if he can find her another way.’

‘Torquil McNeil?’ said the desk sergeant.

‘I’m afraid so. Did you know him? That’s the thing.’

‘Most people knew him, had contact with him, would have dealt with his business. This is not good.’

‘No, it’s not. We need to start moving. This is the second one. The trouble with the second one is that it is usually followed by a third. If it’s just one, well, then it doesn’t escalate. But this is something else,’ said Sabine. ‘This has got the potential to erupt.’

The desk sergeant looked at her glumly.

‘I know,’ said Sabine. ‘I know, but I’m afraid that’s what it’s come to. The trouble with Dev Dalgetty operating on the quiet is that his secrets are going to come out. And then things are going to get messy. Very messy.’

Chapter 15

Hope was exhausted. She’d spent a lot of time down by the Creed and talking to the uniformed officers. They weren’t getting very far with who had killed Torquil McNeil. They had a photograph of a partner. A girlfriend or some connection to Torquil, but no one seemed to know who she was. Given the case so far, Hope thought it must have been a lover of some sort. Everything just seemed to bend that way. She stopped herself.

Lover? What sort of lover? She kept on talking about partners and intimacy and all the rest of it. It was bugging her because even her own life at the moment was hinging a lot on this. However, she and John were far from the situations that were here.

Or were they? It was all about that connection, that physical connection. Women looking for physical connection when they were older. Hope remembered Perry saying to her she didn’t understand. And in truth, Hope didn’t. She really didn’t, or did she? Maybe it was a memory that had gone away, a hurt that she’d buried, that John had buried.

Since meeting John, she’d felt complete. No, that was trite. Complete was such a word from a romance novel. She felt good, that was it. Good as if parts of her life had come into line. She wasn’t lacking in emotion from him; they hadn’t before the little one been lacking in the bedroom either. John was who she wanted, still was who she wanted. This was a technical problem.

She laughed at herself, a technical problem, timescale issue, something. She wanted to put a word on it that didn’t say it was a relationship problem.

John and she had no relationship problems. They never had. She remembered back to when she’d met Allinson and the way he had treated her as a girlfriend. Now those were relationship problems, and she hadn’t got intimacy with him. It was all about how she looked. She realised maybe she hadn’t been thankful enough for John. She’d expected it, but it wasn’t always the case.

Hope grabbed the coffee on the desk and took a sip of it. Is that what the problem was with these women? Maybe it was too simple to put them all in the same bucket. Some just like to live dangerously. Some were sex addicts. That’s if the current believed shenanigans were real. Everything at the moment suggested it, but there was no concrete evidence.

There was no one who was actually tied in with Dev, and until they found such a person, they couldn’t say that the man was running a, well, what did you call it? If it had been women giving that service, the derogatory term would be ‘knocking shop’. So, was Dev running a ‘knocking shop’? It just sounded ridiculous, didn’t it?

The idea of being a gigolo gave the feel of something higher class. But was it higher class? Was he feeding into base values, or was he just providing a service? These were not things that Hope wanted to get into, but they were things that kept preying on her mind. Macleod would be very definite about this. Wrong, you don’t do it. Especially sex for money. Although, was it sex for money? Or was it friendship for money? Oh, friendship with benefits, yes.

She heard a commotion outside, and Hope wandered over to the window, lifting the blind. Down below, she could see various news crews. One of the police officers from the uniform section had gone out and suddenly been accosted with questions. They’d had the good sense not to say anything and Hope watched them disappear around to the car park and into their car. That was the problem though, wasn’t it?

The press gets involved, and the press doesn’t want to know unless it’s sex, religion, or money. As soon as they’re involved, everything gets taken out of proportion. They don’t talk about lonely women, don’t talk about difficulties within marriage. They don’t talk about relationship issues. Instead, they talk about studs and sex. They’d talk about kinky bedrooms. She couldn’t be like that. No, she couldn’t.

Macleod was always good at getting behind how people were, what they were like. Perry was the same. Hope needed to use him to understand this. There was one thing to go to a gigolo or someone like that and actually take a service from them. But people were dead.

Why would you kill that man? Was he going to betray them? That seemed very out of character after all. He was making a packet out of this, or so it seemed. There was no indication, that they’d come across, that he was having problems with the sex, or he didn’t want to satisfy these women for their money anymore.

So, what was it? Did a husband find out? She remembered some comments that had been made—how he was a flirt. Yet he’d gone to certain women, according to her team, and found out they were married and backed off. But was that about his personal life? Was that about the women he courted for his own personal gain, not for money?

Courted? Hope laughed at herself. That’s come from Macleod, she thought. When did I ever court someone? That would have been his term.

She could feel her mobile phone vibrating, took it out of her pocket and nearly swore.

‘It’s Hope.’

‘Inspector McGrath. We seem to be making the national press consistently, now with another one dead. Do you need me to come over?’

‘No,’ said Hope.

‘Well, you need to be getting to the bottom of this, otherwise the force is going to be making nightly appearances on television.’

‘We’re working through it.’

‘Well, it seems quite scandalous,’ said Lambert.

‘Well, it’s a scandalous story. And the press are good at that,’ said Hope. ‘But it’s a bit more nuanced than that.’

‘But are you making progress? Are you sure you can handle it?’

The woman’s got a cheek. Can I handle it? Of course, I can handle it.

‘I’m fine. We’re on it. We’re getting to the bottom of it. I’ll keep you updated.’

‘Just get us off the newspapers; get us out of there, okay?’

‘Okay,’ said Hope, and closed down the call.

She wasn’t worried about DCI Lambert coming over, because Lambert, at the end of the day, would only be here if it raised her profile. Having a scandal hanging over her, having to talk at press conferences about the dirty shenanigans people were getting up to wouldn’t be for her. And that’s the way she would see it. Though she had some cheek to talk about other people.

There was a knock on the door, and Ross walked in.

‘You all right?’ said Hope.

‘Come here,’ said Ross, wandering over towards a computer at the far end of the office that he’d taken charge of. ‘Look at this,’ he said, bringing up a screen in front of Hope. He sat in the chair, and she leaned over him, peering at the screen.

‘What am I looking at?’

‘Dev Dalgetty needed to buy the equipment and other items that are in the house, especially in the four entertainment bedrooms, so to speak.’

‘Yes,’ said Hope. ‘And what am I looking at?’

‘There are different receipts here from various suppliers of adult entertainment. The dungeon room, you’ve got the BDSM equipment. You’ve got the Edwardian one, which actually is genuine Edwardian suppliers. Apparently there’s not that many kinky things around Edwardian. Well, not in terms of the clothing. The sports one has got some interesting equipment linking to a more active imagination. And then the princess one has got, well, princess items, but some of them you certainly wouldn’t be giving to your children.’

‘Okay, and so are we able to gauge anything from this?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, this stuff, it’s for the women, the ones we suspect he’s been involved with taking money from. Women come, so I am advised,’ said Ross with a smirk, ‘in different shapes and sizes.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Hope.

‘Well, some of this equipment requires you to be sized correctly without going into too much detail. And the rooms are very much about specific sizes. There’s equipment and garments for each room that is a different size to the other room. These rooms were not all meant for the same person.’

‘What?’ said Hope. ‘You mean he’s, he’s done what? He’s . . . ’

‘These are made to order,’ said Ross. ‘If I’m right, this is made to order. There are specific women for each room, or, certainly not many for each room, from what I can gather. Or maybe it was at the start, with a smaller client level. Or maybe some of them just get a very basic entertainment level. And others get more.’ Hope could see Ross was a little embarrassed.

‘Some got more entertainment goods than others?’ said Hope.

‘That’s it.’

‘So what do we do,’ said Hope. ‘Get a roundup of sizes and start walking around the Isle of Lewis seeing we can match women to them? Hey, try this on. We’ll hold up a blanket so you don’t get embarrassed.’

‘No,’ said Ross, ‘but I think I should see Wendy Grant.’

‘You went, didn’t you? You said that she was into princesses.’

‘I did, and looking at the equipment and clothing, etcetera for the princess bedroom, I can’t say for definite, but it’s certainly in the Wendy Grant range of sizes.’

‘Why don’t we bring her in?’ asked Hope.

‘Maybe we’ll get more from her if we stay back a bit. I’m wary of her husband. He was quite grouchy; we’ve had the domestic complaint already. That could blow up if I go marching in. I’ll see if I can get her on her own.’

‘Good work, Alan,’ said Hope. ‘Go get me something. If we can get one person involved, maybe they might know some others.’

‘Wendy’s not in any of the groups that Dev was in. She doesn’t do Pilates. She doesn’t go to the gym, leisure centre, or all of that.’

‘No,’ said Hope. ‘But he built these bedrooms at the start for someone, and maybe five years ago. Maybe she was one of the first ones. Maybe these are his regulars, maybe these are the specials, maybe he—I can’t believe I’m saying this,’ said Hope suddenly. ‘I’m actually talking about how he’s touting for business, regular customers. This is not normal.’

‘Well, as far as we know.’

‘What do you mean, Alan?’ asked Hope.

‘I’ve always felt I had a sheltered life. Angus talks about stuff at times. I just feel like I’ve missed out sometimes.’

‘Well, I didn’t miss out on a wilder life in my early days, and some of this is, well, disturbing.’

‘You’re probably very different from them, though,’ said Ross. ‘Anyway, I’m going to go see Wendy Grant.’

Hope watched Ross leave. As he did so, her phone vibrated again.

‘Just thought I’d let you know,’ said John, ‘got a little word out of him today.’

‘Ian?’ said Hope. ‘You got a word out of Ian. What’d he say?’

‘Mum. Mum. Definitely was a Mum. Not quite forming it completely correctly, but definitely Mum.’

Hope was unprepared for that. Her heart sank. She held the phone to her ear, staring blankly ahead.

‘You there?’ asked John. ‘Are you there?’

‘Yes,’ said Hope, ‘I’m here. I wish I wasn’t. I wish I were there.’

‘Are you making headway? I heard that somebody else had died,’ said John.

He was being good, not speaking about himself. He wasn’t speaking about them, looking to her instead. She thought about that. The relationship, for all the problems that she thought they had at the moment, or John was having, that core was still there. He thought of her, of her struggles. He didn’t look to just take from her.

‘We’re going forward, but it’s, oh, it’s like it always is,’ said Hope. ‘You think you’re pushing in the right direction; you pray you’re pushing in the right direction, but who really knows?’

‘Can’t be easy talking about this stuff about us when you’re in a world of, well, the papers called it, “A middle-aged woman’s sex fest.”’

‘They called it a what?’ blurted Hope.

‘Well, one of the tabloids did. “A middle-aged woman’s sex fest.”’

‘Whatever,’ said Hope. ‘He said, “Mum.”’

‘Your boy said, “Mum.”’

‘Put him on,’ said Hope.

‘I can’t, he’s asleep. That’s why I phoned you quickly now. It’s difficult to make those moments happen when you’re on the phone. I’ll try tonight if you’re available.’

‘Of course,’ said Hope.

‘Well, I’ll let you get on,’ said John. ‘Let you get back to your middle-aged sex fest.’

Hope burst out laughing. ‘There’s one thing you know about the papers,’ she said. ‘If that’s what it says, it’s definitely not true. Trust me. It’s nowhere near that glamorous.’

‘It didn’t sound very glamorous to me,’ said John, laughing. He closed the call and Hope was left holding the phone. Her little guy had said, ‘Mum.’ She felt the tear coming from her eye. Some things were too precious. Far, far too precious.

Chapter 16

Ross drove by Wendy Grant’s house and checked to see if her husband was there. His car was missing, but Wendy’s red one was there. He parked his car a little farther down at a different house and walked back, making his way up the drive. He could see a woman at the side of the house putting something into her bins.

‘Hello,’ said Ross, ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Alan Ross. You’re Wendy Grant, yes?’

‘Yes, should I know you?’

‘You reported a domestic disturbance recently. I’ve been out already to speak to your husband, and was just coming out to speak to you.’

‘Oh, of course,’ she said. ‘He seems to have calmed down from that. He lost the head and went off on some wild allegations. It’s just that death setting him on edge.’

‘The one concerning the death of Dev Dalgetty.’

‘Yes,’ said Wendy, but her voice seemed to go hollow as she said it.

‘Do you think we could talk inside? I’m not sure talking about the domestic disturbance is good for the neighbours.’

‘I haven’t got that many neighbours,’ she said, looking left and right. It was true; Ross had parked a hundred yards away at the next house down.

‘All the same,’ said Ross.

The woman turned, walked to the rear of her house, letting Ross in to the kitchen. She offered him a seat and then asked if he wanted coffee.

‘Yes, please,’ said Ross. He waited until she’d made it and sat down in the chair opposite.

‘So, you think everything’s been resolved? Your husband doesn’t appear to be letting loose with fists or anything else.’

‘He’s calmed down a lot; he gets daft notions in his head.’

‘Yes, he was complaining about your holidays, time away at Disneyland. You like being a princess, he said. Said you spent a lot of money that, well, you didn’t earn and—’

‘He doesn’t let me earn,’ said Wendy. ‘He doesn’t let me earn. Not my role.’

‘I suggested to him that the two of you should have some sort of counselling, some help.’

‘He’s never going to do that,’ said Wendy.

‘I saw the Princess photographs when I was here before.’

‘You must think I’m daft,’ said Wendy.

‘No,’ said Ross, ‘but I am a detective. And you told your husband that you went off with groups and you wore princess outfits going to Disneyland and other places with these groups. There isn’t a single group photograph in there.’

‘Well, he wouldn’t know them, would he?’

‘We don’t tend to put photographs up for other people,’ said Ross. ‘We put them up for ourselves to bring back memories. You didn’t feel you could have any of them in the pictures, any of those people you were away with.’

Wendy seemed to hunch her shoulders.

‘No,’ she said, ‘as I say, he doesn’t know them and he’s resentful enough without seeing who was with me.’

‘Wonder if you could look at these,’ said Ross. From inside his pocket, he pulled out copies of some invoices from Dev Dalgetty.

‘What’s this?’ she said.

‘You’ll notice there are a couple of princess outfits on there. The recipient at the top is a Dev Dalgetty. They weren’t delivered specifically to that house. Instead, they were picked up from a collection point. He had an entire room dedicated to being a princess. One of his bedrooms—I don’t know if you’ve heard, he had five bedrooms in the house, and four of them had very distinct furniture and themes. There was a dungeon. There was an Edwardian one. There was also a sport one. But I don’t think any of those three would have interested you. There was, however, a princess one.’

‘And,’ said Wendy suddenly.

‘Those princess outfits and some of the other items further down, things that a princess would use in secret,’ said Ross, ‘have an interesting thing about them. I am no expert on outfits, but they would appear to be round about your size.’

Ross wasn’t sure how that comment would go; if he got this wrong, he’d be getting slapped for it. But instead, the woman dropped her shoulders and buried her face in her hands.

‘You can’t tell him!’

‘Your husband?’

‘You can’t tell him. He wouldn’t take it. He’d come after me.’

‘I already got that feeling,’ said Ross, ‘and don’t worry, I’ll be doing my best to keep this from him. In as much as that is possible, and if it comes to light, then we’ll make sure that you have somewhere to go and to be clear of him.’

‘You just can’t tell him. You just can’t.’

‘No, I can’t,’ said Ross, ‘but I need you to tell me. I have a dead man, and you are linked to him. I have a second dead man in the castle grounds who has no links to anyone of note. You are one of our few lines of inquiry that is definitely attached to this. Now, I’m not saying you’re a killer, but I say that you and Dev were certainly not mere acquaintances.’

‘Look,’ she said, ‘you can’t tell him because that’s where the money went.’

‘Tell me more,’ said Ross. ‘Tell me it all.’

‘Several years ago, I met Dev getting a curry, and he’s a, he’s a charmer, you know, he’s a real charmer. Well, you know about my man and what he was like. And over time—this wasn’t one visit—over time at the curry house while waiting for the curries, I got talking to Dev.

‘He found out that I was lonely. Really lonely. He’s very good, you know? He was a great-looking man. Young man. I know it’s daft, but it’s the sort of man you want around you, the man who can do that. Well, one night, he said to me that, well, would I be interested? He knew about my princess thing from previous conversations, and he said he was thinking of doing something like that.

‘I didn’t know what he meant. But he took me to a room, and it was not in his house then. He hadn’t built it. It was just a room that he’d hired out in a hotel, and he’d made it up. It wasn’t here on the island, but on the mainland. I travelled over telling my husband that I was offered a load of plants or something. Anyway, I went over and he’d done this room up and he had this gown. And I put it on and I felt a million dollars. And he was very attentive and, well—’

‘Did you have sex?’ asked Ross.

‘Yes,’ said Wendy, ‘but I didn’t call it that. It felt more like love.’

‘And did he ask for money?’

‘No,’ she said, ‘not that night. But afterwards, he said to me that he could see I had a need, and he said he could fulfil that need if I was interested in paying. He was upfront. Don’t get me wrong, he said that if I said no, that night was just mine to keep and he wouldn’t come back, he wouldn’t pester me, and he wouldn’t go on about it. He said he just saw an opportunity for both of us.

‘And I started doing it. Then he bought a house, and one room became the princess room. Well, he even went away with me at times, Disneyland and that. They were really special times.’

‘And your husband never suspected?’

‘No. No, he’s cold to me; he hasn’t got a clue what I like. And I said I wanted to go off on holiday and, to be truthful, we don’t go together because we just piss each other off. He goes off and does his fishing thing somewhere. Me? I was off with the girls except I wasn’t. I was off with Dev every now and again.’

Ross could see that she was shaking. He put his hand out and grabbed Wendy’s wrist. ‘It’s okay,’ he said, ‘if you want, I can get a female officer for you to talk to. I’ll not ask anymore.’

‘It’s fine,’ she said.

‘So, Dev was what to you?’

‘Dev was the spice in my life. Everybody needs a bit of spice, you know? Do you have a partner?’ Ross nodded. ‘And I bet she is your spice of life. If you don’t have that spice, well, what do you do?’

‘He is,’ said Ross, and Wendy’s eyes widened. ‘Was there anything different with Dev recently? You’ve given me the picture of a perfect arrangement. I mean, you obviously knew he wasn’t just entertaining you. He was entertaining others.’

‘He asked me—can you believe that—he actually said to me, “Do you mind?” And he said that there was already another one before me. She had been going with him for about six months.’

‘And who was that?’

‘I don’t know. He didn’t do that. He said that each of us was to be secret. No one would know.’

‘He seemed to have quite a few though, at least four.’

‘There were more than four,’ said Wendy. ‘There were four of us who were special to him. Special enough to get rooms. I don’t know who belongs in which room. I just know mine.’

‘You didn’t feel that was a problem? Other women with him?’ asked Ross.

‘No. I was paying him at the end of the day. He made it clear that he wasn’t in love with me, but he would help me. And in a way, I guess we became friends. Yes, I was paying him, but he was always so nice. Now, maybe he felt something, or maybe he didn’t, but he talked to me. You know? He talked to me about my issues. And then I asked him one day about him and what he felt and did he not have hope for a partner?’

‘And did he?’

‘He did. He said that he saw all these middle-aged women, or older women as he put it. I corrected him on that. Then he changed it to middle-aged, and then he got to just say women. It was one of the few slips of the tongue I’d ever heard him make, and I think it was because he was thinking about himself and his situation. He would normally never have mentioned my age in that way. He was clever. Smooth.’

‘But what was his want then?’

‘He wanted a girl. That’s what he said, and when he said girl, I knew what that meant: somebody younger than me, and the ones he was entertaining. Somebody closer to his own age. He never talked about other women in front of me until that day, and I asked him. And that’s about all he said.’

‘So, the arrangement was still intact when he died?’ asked Ross.

‘It was, but within the last couple of months, Dev had said to me it may all be ending.’

‘Really,’ said Ross.

‘He’d met someone, and he was thinking of getting out. In truth, I wished him well. I’d known for a long time what it was like to be without someone, and so I wanted the best for him. I know I paid him, but he was so good to me.’

‘So, what was your response then?’ asked Ross.

‘I said we just kept going as long as possible until he wasn’t prepared to anymore.’

‘I need to ask you this,’ said Ross. ‘The day that Dev died, a couple of days back now, where were you?’

‘I was in Harris, seeing my sister. Stayed overnight. You can check; you can ask my husband that. Or you can ask my sister—here, ring her now,’ she gave a phone number.

Ross called and she confirmed what Wendy had said and she would not tell Wendy’s husband anything. Ross even quoted her as saying, “Why would I tell that arsehole anything at all?”’

‘I didn’t lay a finger on Dev,’ said Wendy. ‘I loved him in a way. Although I know he didn’t love me in that way, but he was very good, very kind. Very helpful.’

‘When you went there, I take it you went in through the other house? The one Alex was guarding.’

‘There was a boy who guarded it and I went through the tunnel, yes.’

‘Did you park your car outside then, down the road?’

‘Never. Oh no,’ said Wendy, ‘I’d never risk that. Dev said I should, but I said to Dev that the refuge house could never be tied to my car. My husband would lose it. So I got the bus. I would get the bus to a distant part of town, and would change my coat. I would put different hat on that I’d never worn, and I’d get to the alleged refuge for women and go in and then have the time of my life. For a couple of hours, the world drifted away. I was a princess.’

‘But you never, ever parked your car there.’

‘No. Never,’ said Wendy. ‘Too risky. Now he’s dead.’ She put her head in her hands again. When she raised them, her eyes were red. ‘My husband’s coming back,’ she said, ‘in about half an hour. Please don’t tell him anything.’

‘I won’t. If I need to, if the things need to be brought out in the open, I will come to you first and if necessary, we will move you elsewhere for your safety,’ said Ross. ‘Thank you for telling me. If I need to interview you on the quiet, we’ll do that separately. Here’s my number,’ said Ross, taking out a card. ‘Ring anytime, if you ever find you’re in trouble from him. Thank you for your candour. I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, discuss none of this with anyone.’

‘That’s exactly what I’ve been doing for over five years,’ said Wendy. ‘But then again, it’s not going to happen again, is it?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said Ross. Wendy stood up to show Ross to the door.

‘Have you taken all the clothing, the outfits?’

‘It’ll go into evidence. You can’t have any of it,’ said Ross, ‘and if you do, it’ll identify you with him and people will find out.’

‘Of course,’ said Wendy, ‘I just wanted, wanted something to remind me of him.’

Ross nodded and left. He couldn’t quite understand why as he had made a big breakthrough in the case, but as he drove back into town, he felt quite sad and hollow inside.

Chapter 17

It was late in the evening when Hope pulled the team together at Stornoway police station. She had invited Jona along as well, and the tiny band of five sat around a table. After Perry had placed coffee in front of them all, she looked at the tired faces of her team. But Hope needed to generate some enthusiasm. Some inspiration to think through the case again.

‘Right,’ said Hope. ‘Someone killed Dev. We know that. We know Dev had his rooms. As of today we have confirmed the user of one of those rooms. These rooms were constructed specifically during the build. Dev obviously saw an opportunity. The curry house was involved at the start. Dev reached out to women, but now he had other plans and other ways of doing it. There was a possibility he was giving up as well.’

‘Giving up for a woman,’ said Perry.

‘Well, if what Dev’s told Wendy is to be believed,’ said Ross, ‘it would seem that way.’

‘Well, in truth,’ said Perry, ‘he’s been making money. He built a big house and now his finances are going well. HMRC is not after him. Nobody’s clocking on to what he’s doing. Why would he stop? Must be a woman.’

‘Maybe he just got sick of the job,’ said Sabine.

‘That seems unlikely. Because he’s so good with people. He’s used to being a service—’

‘Perry! A service?’ said Hope. ‘He’s being intimate with them; he’s taking them to—’

‘He’s providing a service,’ said Perry. ‘We have to remember in this that he’s providing a service—that’s what he is doing. We can talk all we like about him being affectionate; we can talk about him being a decent person, and how he’s helping these women in whatever way. But he’s providing a service because he’s getting paid for it. His goal here is to get the money from it. It’s not the help. If it was just the help, he’d be doing it for free, or at least just for expenses.’

Sabine burst out laughing.

‘What?’ said Hope.

‘Doing it just for expenses. Oh, look, here he is. I am generously taking all these women to bed because I am a good person and I like to help them out of their quandary. That’s a classic,’ said Sabine.

‘Exactly,’ said Perry, ‘that’s what I mean. He’s doing it for money. Now he might have a compassionate side to it. He might understand these women. He might get close to them; he might even help them. But he’s taking the money, and it’s the money that’s driving it. That’s what started him. He obviously likes the money.’

‘But he got into Wendy’s head. Wendy talks about him much more like a friend,’ said Ross.

‘But that’s what he wants them to think, isn’t it? How many people do you know go for sex with a prostitute thinking, “Hey, it’s sex with a prostitute. Isn’t this great?” Most of them are doing it because, “Hey, I need the fix and I’ve got to get it off someone.” They’d much rather get it off the good-looking person who doesn’t do it for any money. But that’s not what’s happening. So if you’re going to be paying the money, you want them in some way, shape or form, to be there for you. They are doing it because there’s a part of them that likes you, that wants you, that . . . ’

‘We get it, Perry,’ said Hope.

‘But somebody still killed him. Wendy’s off the hook, isn’t she?’ said Sabine.

‘Wendy is off the hook because she’s got an alibi,’ said Ross. ‘I also sent uniform down to check out the neighbours. Wendy was down at her sister’s for the whole time that we think Dev might have been murdered.’

‘What about her husband?’

‘I don’t think her husband knows,’ said Ross. ‘Wendy’s convinced he doesn’t know. She was terrified he would find out. And how does he know? I mean, if he knew for definite, you could understand him going after Dev, but he doesn’t then find a stiletto and stick it in him. How does he handcuff him to the bed? You know, it’s just no. There’s too much that doesn’t fit.’

‘We’ve gone over the room,’ said Jona. ‘Dev is in that room, his bedroom, where he died. Nobody else is. Whoever did this could clean up. I mean, he’s handcuffed to the bed. I presume that’s not just an image. He’s actually handcuffed to the bed because whoever it is, then finds it easier to kill him with the stiletto.’

‘And was it a stiletto that was being worn at the time?’ asked Perry.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘If Jona can answer first, I’ll tell you.’

‘Yes, it was. We think the weight is from somebody on top.’

‘Well, Perry, so why do you ask?’

‘Because, somebody’s got him into that position and then killed him.’

‘You don’t think it’s an accident,’ said Sabine.

‘Why’s the next man dead?’ said Perry. ‘No, no, no. For some reason, somebody wants to kill him. Now Dev was giving up possibly. Maybe Wendy didn’t want him to leave.’

‘Well, she didn’t want him to stop,’ said Ross, ‘but she didn’t see what she could do about it. And she’s not here, anyway.’

‘No,’ said Hope, ‘but if Wendy feels like that, somebody might feel a bit more strongly, somebody he’s been with. We’ve got these four bedrooms. Wendy didn’t know the others.’

‘Wendy said she didn’t know anyone,’ said Ross.

‘I’m calling that one; that one smells funny,’ said Perry.

‘You what?’ said Ross.

‘It smells funny; that doesn’t add up to me. She’ll know.’

‘She didn’t know,’ said Ross. ‘I sat in front of her. The woman’s distraught. The woman’s telling me everything she’s—’

‘Ross,’ said Perry, ‘I’m not being funny here. Computer side, all that stuff, you’re a genius. You’re not so good at people face to face, and of all of us, all of the rest of you, if I wanted to get an idea past someone, get them to accept it, but it being a complete lie, I’d be picking you.’

‘What? I am a detective,’ said Ross. ‘Jona’s not a detective.’

‘I am a different sort of detective, really,’ said Jona.

‘And Jona’s the last person I’d pick,’ said Perry. ‘She’s got a good brain.’

‘Well, thanks very much,’ said Sabine.

‘Hold up,’ said Hope. ‘Enough of the fun and games. What do you mean, Perry? What are you saying?’

‘She’ll know. Wendy says she’s that close to him, and he doesn’t tell her anything about anybody. There’s never been an occurrence of her being in the curry house and using those codes? She didn’t mention the codes, did she?’

‘No, she didn’t,’ said Ross.

‘No, she wouldn’t, because if she’d used the codes, then other people would have used the codes and you’d have gone back. She doesn’t know we know the codes,’ said Perry. ‘She doesn’t understand that we’re actually aware of that because she’s holding that back. If we think there are codes, we could match up with other women who are there. She’s protecting them. She doesn’t want it all to come out. Her own husband is on her tail. She doesn’t want any of them to have their husbands coming after them. She’s protecting other women.’

‘Really,’ said Ross.

‘Really,’ said Perry. ‘I want to talk to her. I’d like to talk to her.’

‘Well, Ross has been the one dealing with her. I can send Alan back out,’ said Hope.

‘No,’ said Perry, stringently, and then looked up at the other officers with a higher rank than he. ‘Please!’

‘What do you think, Ross?’ said Hope. ‘Your call.’

‘Send Perry,’ said Ross, ‘he’s good at this sort of thing.’

Perry gave a nod. Hope could feel he was smiling underneath. Not because he’d bettered Ross, but because Ross was appreciating Perry’s talent.

‘Wendy’s the key,’ said Perry; ‘she’s the key to breaking into all of this. She was found out. You did an excellent piece of police work,’ said Perry. ‘You matched her princess outfit and got her to confess. That’s great. Now we’ve got to find all the other punters, and she’s going to know who some of them are. I need to put some pressure on her or break into the underground world to find out who else is there.’

‘Good. Take Sabine with you, though. And don’t do it tonight,’ said Hope. ‘We need to get as much out of her as possible. So not now, but when she’s on the move heading off into town or that. I mean it’s half eleven, twelve almost already.’

‘Little update from my side,’ said Jona, ‘if you’re ready.’

‘Excellent,’ said Hope, ‘what have you got?’

‘Well, the knife that killed Torquil—it’s available locally. There’s a couple of shops stocking it. It’s a fishing knife. It is very sharp, and you can do a lot of damage with it. There are, however, no prints on it. So, whoever killed him knew what they were doing. This was not a random attack. You don’t frantically stab someone and then not leave your prints on it.’

‘They could have been wearing gloves, though.’

‘It’s not cold,’ said Jona. ‘It’s not normal to be wearing gloves at this time of year. I mean, all I can tell you is there are no prints on it, but my guess would be that they wore gloves to prevent prints. But again, that’s problematic.’

‘How?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, if you were setting something up,’ said Jona, ‘you’d have to have prints on it except you don’t. Yes? There are no prints on it. So that says it’s not a frantic stabbing.’

‘Or somebody’s got control of themselves after stabbing him and then throwing him down.’

‘That’s a thought, Hope,’ said Perry. ‘But the problem with that is if you frantically stabbed someone like that, I am assuming there is going to be blood spatter.’

‘There was, and it was by the water,’ said Jona. ‘So, this is not a case of them coming from somewhere else. Basically, they’d had to have stabbed him. Knife gone into the water, jumped into the water after it, and cleaned the knife off. And, then they’re running out in their own clothes, all splattered, and have to get out of the castle grounds without being seen. More likely, somebody’s done it who knows what they’re doing?’

‘Well, how would you do it, Jona?’ asked Sabine.

‘Wait for him, coveralls suit, jump out with a knife. Bang, bang, bang! Shove him in and get out of there. Burn the suit.’

‘But what about people?’ asked Hope.

‘That’s a problem; it’s a risk, you’d have to, well, have good timing, understand who was around, maybe be waiting for him, following him maybe.’

‘A white coverall suit,’ said Sabine.

‘That’d be pretty obvious,’ said Perry, ‘wouldn’t it? I mean, hard enough to get into one of those things.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ said Hope.

‘No, but really,’ said Perry. ‘Jona, how fast can you get into one of those things?’

‘Inside thirty seconds,’ said Jona. ‘But I’m quite small.’

‘But you’ve got to do it,’ said Perry. ‘You’ve got to do it. After following him, can’t follow someone along in a white suit like that. They look round and go, “Oh look, it’s a person in a white suit.” I can’t imagine them just walking on. They’re going to go, “What on earth are you doing?” Anybody’s going to be asking that. So you’ve got to get close to him. You’ve got to put the suit on. Tail him, get him in the right spot and then do the business.’

‘Unless,’ said Sabine.

‘Unless what?’ said Hope.

Sabine shook her head. ‘No, it’s daft.’

‘No really. What?’ said Hope. ‘I’ll entertain anything.’

‘What about a camouflage coverall suit?’

‘A what?’ said Perry.

‘A camouflage coverall suit.’

Ross was shaking his head. Sabine looked around and Jona was staring back, mouth agape. Hope was a bit bemused, but Perry was smiling broadly.

‘That’s brilliant,’ he said, ‘just brilliant. You can even hide afterwards. You can get out of there easily. If you think about it, people who know how to use camouflage, if they go in a camouflaged suit, they just jump out and do it.’

‘Wouldn’t have to be a coverall,’ said Jona suddenly. ‘If you’re in camouflage, you can get out of the place. You can clean up your own gear, afterwards.’

‘But we are talking about somebody, then, who’s trained, who really knows how to use this stuff.’

‘And that goes against what’s there,’ says Jona. ‘That goes against the idea of a frenzied knife.’

‘Yes,’ said Hope. ‘It makes little sense, doesn’t it?’

A call was made to the room, and Sabine was sent downstairs to pick something up from uniform. She was gone five minutes, and when she returned, she entered the room smiling.

‘What?’ said Hope.

‘Blonde-haired woman in Torquil McNeil’s pictures. They’ve found her. Somebody’s recognised her, except well, they say she’s got red hair.’

‘Who is she?’ asked Hope.

‘She’s Clementine Sukor, and she lives in Stornoway,’ said Sabine.

‘Do we know anything about her?’

‘Quiet, keeps herself to herself, apparently.’

‘Where does she live?’ asked Perry.

‘She’s got a reasonable house, up in the Point area. Over the Braighe.’

The Braighe was a small stretch of land that connected Point, an area with about two thousand people, to Stornoway. It was also known as the Eye Peninsula and contained many dispersed villages.

‘Right then. We’ll see her tomorrow. You and me, Ross. Perry, Sabine, you get hold of Wendy, find out what you can from her.’

‘Shouldn’t we just do it now?’ said Ross. ‘Strike while the iron’s hot?’

‘I don’t want to do that with Wendy. I think she is at threat from her husband. So, we’re going to play that one carefully. And also, this Clementine. We want to approach quietly. There are still people camped outside this police station. We go charging off at this time of night, they’re going to come following; no, wait till the morning. But not too late in the morning.’

The team stood up. Perry asked Hope if she wanted a lift to the hotel.

‘I’m going to stay here for a minute and then I’ll walk up,’ said Hope.

‘I’ll walk up with you if you want,’ said Perry. ‘Safer, you know?’

‘Perry. It’s Stornoway. I think I can handle myself around here.’

He nodded, and Hope waited until they’d all cleared the room. She then placed a call, and on the other end it was picked up by John. He didn’t say anything, but on the video call a smile was evident. The phone went down for a moment and looked at the ceiling. She could hear John saying, ‘Come on, look, look.’ Then the phone image spun back up, and little Ian was looking back at her.

‘Who’s that?’ said John off camera. ‘Who’s that?’

‘Mama,’ said a voice.

Hope couldn’t help it. She burst into tears.

Chapter 18

‘Oh, she’s in,’ said Sabine. ‘But the other car’s there too. Must be her husband.’

‘So, what do we do?’ asked Perry. ‘We need to talk to her.’

‘Don’t really want to talk while he’s there. That could inflame the situation,’ said Sabine. ‘But she looked like she was going out. Well, she was up and getting ready. So maybe.’

‘Why don’t we give her half an hour,’ said Perry. ‘And if she’s not going out, we’ll make some excuse, phone the house or something. You’re right, we don’t really want to talk to her with him around. Not when we’re going to suggest certain things to her. He’s bound to try to listen in, and if we take her down to the station, that’s not going to work.’

‘I’ll go back and watch then,’ said Sabine. She got out of the car and made her way back towards the Wendy Grant’s house while Perry continued to sit in the car.

It was one of the duller sides of police work. Sometimes you just sat around and you needed to think of something to do. Perry would often chew over a case. At the moment, he was wondering where this one would go. If they could find the women that Dev was seeing as clients, they’d have to check up on all the husbands, partners, boyfriends, and all the rest of it.

The frenzied attack was quite something, but it didn’t sit right. Jona wasn’t buying it, either. Frenzied attackers rarely sneak off; they flee. There was blood at the spot up by the river, but to get there with a knife, that was intentional. And then being the castle grounds, they did what? Just came across the victim and were happily carrying a knife. No, they must have stalked him. It just didn’t sit well.

It was fifteen minutes before Sabine got back into the car. ‘Go, go,’ she said.

Perry started up the car, and Sabine told him to hold back slightly as he watched Wendy Grant’s red car leave her driveway. From a distance behind, he tailed her all the way into Stornoway. She parked up at Bayhead, just to the side of the harbour. Perry thought this was an opportune moment; he quickly got out of the car, and as Wendy was getting out of hers, he stopped right by her door.

‘Excuse me,’ said Wendy.

‘I can show you my badge if needs be, but I’m Detective Constable Warren Perry. Detective Sergeant Sabine Ferguson is with me. We need to talk to you.’

‘You’ve already talked to me. I sat down and talked with your Sergeant Ross, told him everything.’

‘Well, I’m not sure you did.’

‘What are you saying? Are you accusing me of lying.’

‘No,’ said Perry. ‘But I don’t think you’re telling us everything. Now, we were at your house this morning, and waited for you to leave so we don’t talk in front of your husband. If you want, we can go down to the station and do this. I suggest we don’t go to a coffee shop and have half the town watching us because, believe it or not, this good-looking face of mine gets noticed. People know who I am. Maybe we could take a walk up into the castle grounds, down some of the discreet paths and have a chat.’

‘Very good,’ said Wendy, ‘if we must.’

‘I’ll be over on the other side across the little bridge. You’ll see me there. Follow me at a distance. My colleague will come behind you to make sure you’re not being followed. And then we’ll have a chat.’

Perry opened his jacket and carefully lifted out his warrant card, concealing it from the public, but making sure that Wendy Grant could see it.

‘Just so you know I’m for real,’ he said, before putting the credentials away and walking off to the little bridge. He stood there and watched as Wendy followed him, some distance behind.

Perry walked out by the sea and then cut into the castle grounds before taking one of the bike tracks. It was morning, and quiet. Generally you didn’t get anybody out on bikes at this time of day. He stopped underneath some trees where he could look out and see the harbour. There was a tree stump, and he sat on it. As Wendy followed him into the patch, he indicated she should sit beside him. Sabine appeared a couple of minutes later, telling Perry that they were in the clear.

‘What do you want from me?’ asked Wendy. ‘I’ve told you everything.’

‘Well, come on then. Remind me. Tell me again.’

‘I have an arrangement with Dev, or I had. Princess room’s mine. It’s what I enjoy. It’s what I like and Dev satisfied that need. My husband and I have not been, well, close for a long time. So, Dev was satisfying my needs, and I was paying him for it. Okay? That’s what is. Maybe it’s shameful, but that’s what is.’

‘You told our sergeant that you met at the curry house, and he spoke to you at the curry house.’

‘Yes? That’s where he operated from. And then he built me the room when he got more money.’

‘And before that, you went where?’

‘Here, there and wherever, wherever he could find quiet hotel rooms. He would hire outhouses, cottages, anything, anywhere he could find to make a quiet rendezvous. We were out in the villages, in the back end of nowhere, halfway down Harris. But he was worth it.’

‘And what? He just decided to build a house then. And he built it up from there. Surely he must have had more than just you in mind.’

‘I wouldn’t know anything about that.’

‘Really?’ said Perry. ‘So when you turned up at the house and there was a princess room, you didn’t think to say, “Oh look, by the way, what’s in there?” Having seen the rooms, they’re not exactly set apart from each other. They’re all in one part of Dev Dalgetty’s house. That was his working area, so to speak. How did you really first meet?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If he’s looking to take on something like that, he’s not going to be dealing with one woman. He’s trying to build a business. That’s what Dev was about. And he was very successful. But he must have gone to a place where he’d have known that you would have been. He would also need to have known you were, one, up for the physical side, and two, somewhere he could talk to you without a lot of things being said or being noticed. Where could you and Dev stand side by side and talk? Where could he find out about you? Where?’

‘I said, in the curry house.’

‘Very open, though, isn’t it? And you’re coming in once a week, maybe. Not even once a week. Not even—’

‘Just what are you getting at?’ raged Wendy.

‘Where did you first meet?’ said Perry. ‘Because, it would have been you and a group of women. He would have been trying his luck. And there’s no way he’d have done that on the doorstep of his own curry house. I get he might have put curries on the list to let women tell him their desires. But that’s after he’s got all the rooms done. That’s for people who want a selection. That’s not for you. He’s catering for a very specific need for you, he knows what you like. He knows you want to be a princess; he’s gone away with you several times.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Wendy.

‘Other women? When it all started, what groups were you in?’

Wendy’s face jumped for a moment, and then she became defensive. ‘I wasn’t in anything. I didn’t—’

‘Yes, you were. You see, Dev’s not stupid; at least he wasn’t. If you’re going to do that sort of thing, and you need women who are well, looking for such arrangements, they’ve got to be women with a degree of fitness. They will be trying to look good. What sort of workouts were you doing? How were you getting yourself in shape?’

Wendy looked down at the ground. ‘Aqua-fit class,’ she said, ‘in the sports centre. I used to be a member. Well, no, I wasn’t.’

‘No, you weren’t,’ said Perry. ‘We checked. You’ve not been in the aqua fit class. Your name’s not down on it.’

Wendy started to cry.

‘What?’ asked Perry.

‘I hadn’t been at the gym, and my sister, she . . . she passed on, and the membership was still there. She had paid up for a year. Lorna did that; she never bought monthly subscriptions. She always paid the extra to try to get a better deal. So, there were six months left on it, and well, the woman who was behind reception at that point in time said to me, just take her card. Scan her card in. Nobody’ll know, nobody’ll care. So I did.

‘I did it to get some time to myself. Things weren’t great with my husband even back then, and with my sister gone, I needed space and time. So I went to aquafit. That’s where I met Dev. This was before the house. Dev was, well, I realise now, he was starting out. He was trying to find clients, as he would put it. But Dev was a charmer. He was available; he was discreet.

‘It took him the best part of three months to set up our first time. That’s from not knowing him. He never pushed; he was gentle, and he kept suggesting. And then it ran out, the membership. I didn’t particularly enjoy the aquafitting by that point. I had Dev, and we were doing things. And he said, “Just keep coming to the curry house, we can keep contact that way.”

‘I would pick up a curry, and he would have a brief note inside telling me where we were meeting. Or when I paid cash to him, I’d put a note in the money. Always made sure Dev was there. There were a few times I went in and he wasn’t and I just bought the curry, but that’s how we communicated.’

‘The aquafit class—were you the only one?’

Wendy went silent. She shook her head at him, ‘I can’t,’ she said, ‘I can’t. They’ve got husbands; they’ve got boyfriends; they’ve got—’

‘Dev is dead,’ said Perry. ‘Somebody killed him. Somebody who knew about his lifestyle, about what he was doing. Maybe none of the women did it, but it could be husbands. We need to find out. I don’t mean to be rough on you, but we can do this down at the station. I need to know. We’ve been discreet so far. We want to keep it discreet. The last thing we want is to have all these relationships blow up if we don’t have to, because that will cause problems. It could cause injuries and incidents. We don’t want that.’

‘Dev had at least six of the aquafit girls as his clients,’ said Wendy.

‘Six,’ said Sabine suddenly.

‘We kept in touch, or rather, we talked at times. It’s a scary thing doing this and, well, it kind of ties you in, doesn’t it? Of course, I knew there were the other rooms. Some of them were made for a woman, and some of them weren’t.’

‘Can you give me the names of the six?’ asked Perry.

‘Do I get a choice?’

‘We need to know,’ said Perry.

Wendy nodded. Sabine produced a notebook and pencil, allowing Wendy to write the names.

‘Did he ever operate outside of the aquafit class?’ asked Perry.

‘I don’t know,’ said Wendy.

‘Were you the first?’ asked Sabine.

‘I don’t think so. I know the aquafit girls because, well, some of them were nervous about it. And having the relationship with Dev, he asked me if I would say to them it was okay. And I did. We got talking and, well, we weren’t stupid. You know. We made sure we knew who each other was. We made sure that Dev was not ripping any of us off.’

‘In what way?’ asked Perry.

‘Oh, we checked prices.’

Sabine’s jaw dropped. ‘Prices,’ she said. ‘It’s not like you’re going down Tesco’s.’

‘We’ll keep this as quiet as we can,’ said Perry, ‘but be prepared to see things come out. I need to talk to the other women. I can’t guarantee they’ll be discreet enough because I don’t know them.’

‘Oh, they’ll be discreet.’

‘Have you spoken to any of them since Dev passed on?’ asked Perry.

‘Do you think I would? Do you think I seriously would? Somebody killed him with a stiletto.’

‘Do you know if any of them were into BDSM?’

‘No. I was obvious with the princess thing. I mean, I’m like that in normal life. I’ve shown people photographs of trips to Disneyland, and that was pre-Dev, some of it.’

‘So did he ever say who was for what room?’

‘No, but they used different ones; some liked variety.’

‘Thank you,’ said Perry. ‘Do you want us to walk you back to the car? Keep an eye on you.’

‘No,’ said Wendy, ‘I can go from here.’ She turned and walked away, shoulders slumped.

Sabine stepped closer to Perry. ‘What do you think?’

‘Fair enough. We need to bring these women in. Bring them in together. This group know each other, they know their secret. If we bring them in as a group, it’ll seem safer. They might talk better, knowing that we’re not about to go hard down on them.

‘Call Hope,’ suggested Perry. ‘Make sure she agrees with it, but I would get hold of the aqua fit instructor, get her to call a meeting of some sort. We’ll come in on the quiet.’

Perry stood thinking for a moment whilst Sabine made the call to Hope. When he looked back up, he saw Sabine give a thumbs up. They were on the move. Dev’s women, now numbered seven, but Perry wasn’t sure that was all of them. More than that, none of these were his special one. They were all clients. They would need to find the special one to see what Dev was really up to.

Chapter 19

‘Well, this is it,’ said Ross. ‘Not a bad house, is it?’

Hope looked at the tarmac driveway that led up to steps and a front door. The door was certainly not put in more than ten years ago. The house was compact, small, but it was in good condition. There was a plot of land to one side, and beyond it, Hope could see sheep in a croft. To one side was a small barbecue area and the garden had grass with a small stream running through it. The house had been well looked after—the grounds too. This was clearly someone with a little money.

Together they walked up to the front door, pressed a doorbell that rang out chimes resounding like if they came from the steeple of a church in a city. There was a cry of ‘Coming,’ and eventually the door opened, where a woman was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

‘Hello,’ said the woman. She had shocking red hair, but other than that, she was the perfect image of the woman in Torquil McNeil’s photo album.

‘Are you Clementine Sukor?’ asked Hope.

‘Yes. Police then,’ she said.

‘What makes you say that?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, he’s dead. He’s dead, and he had photographs of me. He was a client. You were bound to get here at some point.’

‘I’m Detective Inspector Hope McGrath. This is Detective Sergeant Alan Ross. We’d like to ask you some questions, Miss Sukor.’

‘Please! Please, come in. Do you want a cuppa? I’ve got the kettle on, got some tea. You guys won’t take anything stronger, will you? I don’t either; in fact, I don’t even take caffeine. Got to keep yourself looking good, you know? Anyway, it’s been a good start to the morning. Been weeding since about seven. Got a bit of work in about an hour.’

‘Work?’ said Ross. ‘What do you work as?’

‘I’m a sex worker,’ said Clementine. Hope noted that the woman didn’t even flinch at saying it. She could have said she was a dinner lady at the local primary school and it would have been delivered in the same tone.

‘And what do you do exactly as a sex worker?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, a lot of what I do is online camera work. That’s what I’m doing in an hour. I’m on for a while. I mean, it’s money for nothing. You sit there, you lie back letting them look. You talk a bit cheeky to whoever is on, let them fire the money at you. It’s not a great sense of income, but it’s okay. It’s all legal and above board in case you’re wondering. I mean, I don’t do any of the strange stuff. It’s all regulated and that. More than happy to show you where I do it.’

‘And that’s all that you do, is it?’ asked Hope.

‘No, I also have male clients. Was it tea? I’m having rooibos. Got peppermint as well. I do have coffee—it’s decaf though; I don’t take caffeinated.’

‘Coffee would be great,’ said Hope.

The woman took some cups out and threw some instant decaf coffee into them. She poured the kettle, asked about milk, before handing the cups over. And then, poured water into her own cup, making up her rooibos tea. She ushered the pair of them out to the rear of the house, where she sat down on a small swing seat, offering a bench to Hope and Ross.

‘I asked if you did something else beyond the online activity,’ said Hope.

‘I do. I have male clientele here on the island. Look, I’d rather not give you a list of their names, but if you insist, I’ll do it, but I’d like it to be kept quiet. Some of them are attached and it could be a significant loss of business.’

‘Was Torquil one of your clients?’

‘Yes, he was. I did say that. That’s why I expected you to turn up. He was, well, a funny one.’

‘In what way?’

‘Well, we kept most things on the quiet, but he enjoyed being out and about. One of the things about being a sex worker is understanding what it is you’re providing,’ said Clementine. ‘With Torquil, yes, there was the sex. But some days, he actually just wanted somebody with him. Somebody to be out there. We went some days to beaches and sat there, and were almost acting like a normal couple.’

‘You’re more of an escort than a prostitute,’ said Ross.

‘Exactly. And, the thing is, it’s like less of the dirty stuff, as people call it. That’s actually where you get more money. If you can get them to feel an attachment for you—that they think that there’s more than just the physical act—they’ll pay more for it. They want more of you. You become someone, not something.’

‘And that’s what Torquil wanted?’ asked Hope.

‘Oh, we had some other things. I specialise in bondage, things like that, but as a submissive subject, so to speak. Torquil was into a lot of that. We did that. I have a room in the back here. I can take you through and have a look if you want.’

‘Maybe in a bit,’ said Hope.

‘You realise he was stabbed frantically,’ said Ross, ‘in the castle grounds. We’d have to ask you where you were at that time.’

‘When was it exactly?’ asked Clementine.

Ross gave the time and the date. Clementine stood up and went inside, and then came back out with a small diary. ‘Here’s a website,’ she said, writing down on a scrap of paper. ‘That’s where I worked at that time. You can check with them. I was actually online on a live feed, performing. I hope it clears up that it wasn’t me.’

‘This might be a long shot,’ said Hope, ‘but you’ll be aware that there’s been another murder recently in the area. A Dev Dalgetty.’

‘He owned Constantinople, the curry house. Dev was also a sex worker.’

Hope looked a little shocked. ‘How do you know that? Were you a client?’

Clementine smiled. ‘Not a client, so to speak. I knew Dev; we got on very well. In the early days, we’d been out for a drink at one point—he’s a lovely chatty man, but nothing came of it—but we got talking and I told him what I did. And he asked about it, really, really asked about it. Was this something he could set up. And I said what I said to you just a moment ago: You need to find that thing they want that turns you into a dream for someone.

‘And he did that. He targeted middle-aged women, women who had lost that spark in their relationships, who needed something, and he provided it for them. And he made himself something they wanted, not the thing. And he specialised. Like I do. But he specialised in what they wanted, their dream fantasy. Now, I’m sure you’re aware by now, because you’ve been in his place, that there’s a dungeon room. There was a princess room, wasn’t there? The Edwardian one as well, and the sports one. And he built those especially, but he used them for other clients as well.’

‘So do you know who they were built for?’ asked Ross.

‘No. He didn’t tell me his clients. And that was deliberate. I didn’t tell him my clients. That’s the way of it. Keep an anonymity. We may have talked about them, but never names, so we couldn’t identify who the other was working with.’

‘But all the rooms were built for someone.’

‘The dungeon room was built for me,’ said Clementine. ‘I guess you would say I was a client of Dev’s, but I never really saw it that way.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Hope.

‘I helped Dev set everything up in the sense that I taught him how to go about it. He was very grateful. One thing I have in my life as a worker is that I am always the submissive one. The dungeon room with Dev allowed me to go and, well, take the other role on. When you enter these roles, you can lose yourself so easily. It can change who you are. Look at me. Look at the way I am now, talking to you. I’m not a submissive person.’

‘Clearly not,’ said Hope.

‘I’m not. I knew you were coming. I’ve taken charge, put everything on the table, I’m owning the situation. Not letting it happen to me. Dev provided a way for me to counterbalance the playing I was doing. Actors get it sometimes. And you need to be aware of it,’ said Clementine. ‘Actors playing really nasty roles, really evil roles, do something else that is completely against it outside of that role. When you immerse yourself into being something, it’s too easy to change—to become that. I have a quiet life outside of what I do. Don’t make a fuss. I have my garden. Don’t go to a lot of clubs and that; it’s not me. I keep fit, but I use the gym that Dev used. I think he picked that one as well because that was his private life.’

‘He went to clubs,’ said Ross. ‘He went to Aquafit, and he went to some sort of Pilates.’

‘That was work. That was some touting for business. The gym was him being him, keeping himself in shape, yes, but he didn’t go to the gym in the leisure centre.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because he wanted a place he could be himself. He was already in the leisure centre, and the middle-aged women tended to go there, not to the specialised gym. They don’t spend their money in that way. He could be himself at the gym. He’d still be chatty enough, but he could be himself.’

‘Come with me a minute,’ she said to them. Clementine led them inside and showed them her room, where she worked. There were various toys and implements, chains and the rest of it. She said Torquil had been in there many a time and she ran through the way in which he would command her.

When she came back out of the room with him, she said,

‘But that’s all play. Very controlled. I’m actually in charge. You don’t look it because you’re playing a role, and he gets the idea that he’s on top and he’s this and he’s that. But I know what I’m doing. Dev was doing the same with these women. Only he plays a very different role usually.’

‘Someone killed him,’ said Hope, ‘but do you have any thoughts who? They stuck a stiletto through his heart.’

‘It could be one of his clients. Things had changed with Dev. I know that he wanted out.’

‘Because?’ asked Hope.

‘He met someone in his personal life. He met someone who, well, certainly seemed to grab him. That’s one thing that’s very difficult. Very few people have partners who do what I do. Some do, but most really don’t. And when you get a partner, how do you explain to them? Especially the more intimate stuff, the stuff on camera. There’s not a lot of partners who can handle that. To physically bond with other people, that’s not seen as good.

‘So I think he was getting out of it because the other person wanted him to. Or maybe he wanted it too. See, I didn’t go that much into his private life. I saw him down at the gym that I use. I saw him with, well, a number of different women over the years and over the last lot of months. I couldn’t tell you if any of them were close to him because he was that type of guy. And I didn’t ask.’

‘Was there any theme about them? Commonality among them?’ asked Ross.

‘Well, they were certainly not middle-aged women. In their twenties, I would have said most of them. Dev didn’t want someone like me. I’m not old, but I’m certainly older, and that’s fine. It was one of the things with Dev; he was too young for me. We didn’t click, you know. Didn’t gel. But he found someone he was gelling with. Talked about getting out.’

‘Do you know how many clients Dev had?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, he started with one or two, and then slowly and surely he spread out. He was taking on quite a number, though. Especially with the way he did it. I do a lot of work in front of the camera, and people who come on that, you don’t know them. I have Torquil and I have another couple. That’s enough for me. As you can see, I don’t have Dev’s house. I enjoy what I do, and this is a quiet life I lead.

‘Dev wanted the money until recently. Whoever he met changed him in that regard, and he wanted out. But I think he had an affection for many of these women. It happens; you get to learn why they’re there. You learn to see what’s missing. You provide them with what’s missing, and it’s hard sometimes because you get emotional with them. And they do with you.

‘If Dev was leaving, if Dev told someone that it was over, someone might struggle with that. I mean, they’re clients; they’ve no right to say that you will continue. It’s entirely up to us. But you have to watch because some of them get close.’

‘Have you ever had anything like this? Anybody attack you? Anybody try—’

‘No,’ said Clementine, ‘but then again, I haven’t tried to disappear off with a different partner. I find it different though, strange.’

‘In what way?’ asked Hope.

‘These women are fond of him. Most of them will try to keep it going, you know. They’re certainly not going to get rid of him like that. They’ll be keen to keep him. You’d have to feel scorned. You’d have to feel that you had a right.’

‘Well, when you pay a lot of money, do you not get that right? Or at least think you do?’ said Ross.

‘Maybe,’ said Clementine. ‘Maybe something stronger than that. You said he died with a stiletto driven through him.’

‘That’s true,’ said Hope. ‘We found him in his bedroom, handcuffed to his bed, and a stiletto through his chest.’

‘His bedroom? Not, what, one of the others.’

‘No,’ said Ross, ‘it was his bedroom. It wasn’t the four that are on the one side of the house.’

‘That’s strange,’ said Clementine.

‘In what way?’ asked Hope.

‘That was Dev’s bed—not a working bed. I said this before to him; I have my bedroom. It’s my space. If I take a man in there, it’s because they’re a lover. They’re mine. My lover. There’s no payment. There’s nothing owed. I’m doing it because it’s part of my life and what I want to do. The rooms, if they’re paying, they can go in there. Dev was the same.’

‘But he was handcuffed to the bed.’

Clementine looked at Ross, ‘You don’t do that. You don’t bring any of that gear into your own place. Your bedroom is yours. It is sacrosanct. Come,’ she said.

And she tore along her house and into her bedroom. Inside was a room that looked in every way a normal bedroom. There were some fancy art pictures on the wall. It certainly had the feel of a woman who knew her sexuality, but the colours, everything, it was personal. The double bed was made up neatly. There was a rug on the floor.

‘This is my haven, mine. There’s no way anyone gets in here. Dev was the same. This is where I bring people who are special; that’s where Dev brought someone who meant something to him. And the handcuffs, I mean I haven’t seen them but they were from the other room, probably. The stiletto was, I know that.’

‘So what would make him go in there? With that gear?’ asked Hope.

‘I told him once that I’d never break that rule; that was my bedroom and nothing else. He agreed. He said it was a solid ground rule: never to lose your side of your sexuality, not who you were playing. It makes little sense to me that Dev would be in there. They’ve either put him in there or he’s done it under duress.’

Chapter 20

Perry and Sabine had gone directly to the sports centre to find the aquafit instructor. Taking her to one side, they asked for her cooperation in privately contacting the women from her class. They advised that the women needed to be interviewed and, given the nature of the case, they wanted to do it quietly and privately. If, however, people didn’t come along, they would have to interview them formally. And they thought that this was the easiest method of contacting them.

The group would all meet up together. Perry gave the explanation that they didn’t want any husbands to think that there was anything untoward, given who Dev had been. And also, with the recent death of Torquil, they were worried that things could get seriously out of hand if any husbands thought their wives were involved.

Sabine spoke to the chief inspector at the police station. He acquired a house for them, just outside of town. It sat in a little dell off the road where the cars could be parked without being seen. It took most of the day to organise, and some of the women were working.

In the interim, Perry and Sabine visited the gym Dev used. He had been a regular, but according to the manager, was very self-contained working on his body. He talked to most people, but it was that friendly chat and banter with no one friend standing out.

By seven o’clock, Perry counted the last of them as having arrived. There was a story put up that the aquafit instructor needed to speak to them all, worried about the water quality, and they were getting checked out. Something to feed to their husbands.

Perry counted them. Six different women. They gave their names and their ages, all between forty and sixty-five.

‘I’m Detective Sergeant Sabine Ferguson. This is Detective Constable Warren Perry. We’ve contacted you on the quiet not to protect you from your husbands getting the wrong idea, but because we know that your husbands, partners, or whoever don’t know about your other life. Wendy Grant, having been shown to be involved, has told us you all were paying for sexual favours from Dev Dalgetty. We know he had four bedrooms in his house and that you would use them. Dev died, murdered with a large stiletto, a stiletto taken from the dungeon room of his house.’

Several of the women suddenly began to cry, which took Sabine back a little. She realised it was deeply upsetting but Sabine wasn’t ready for the women starting to hug each other.

‘Somebody took him; somebody took him from us,’ said a blonde-haired woman.

‘It’s our Dev,’ said another. ‘Our Dev.’

‘With respect,’ said Perry, ‘he was someone providing you with a service.’

‘Dev was more than that. Don’t you get it?’ said a woman to him. ‘We loved him. The money wasn’t important. Dev was. Someone who understood. Dev was special. Dev was able to get close to us. He could bring out the . . . well, he made you feel alive. He made you special.’

Sabine stepped back for a moment. She was meant to be asking the questions. She was meant to be probing these women as to what they were doing. And she was expecting resistance and shock. Instead, she felt as though she’d walked into a therapy group, as they all began talking about Dev, and what he did. Sabine got the feeling she was with a family, although it was the strangest type of family she could ever have imagined.

‘He used to dress up, looked great in the riding boots, the cravat, the waistcoat. Dev would tell me about being out on the moor atop his horse and thinking of me,’ said one woman. ‘He took me once to a ball, an Edwardian ball. It was quite something. We stayed for the night and then up on the balcony—well, it was special.’

Another one started talking about how she’d always had her gym fantasy, and he’d fulfilled it. Others started talking about being in the gym room, and Sabine felt the need to sit down. There is a lot of detail, too much detail, she thought. The only thing that was missing was tea and biscuits as they shared their experiences but Sabine got the feeling this wasn’t the first time they’d shared them.

‘Do you all know about what each other did with Dev and how he did it?’

‘He charged us all the same. We checked, and that started it,’ said one woman.

‘There is something here though,’ said Perry. ‘I understand that you’re all shocked at his death, that you’re all grieving as you talk to each other, but somebody killed him. As police officers, we need to assure ourselves it wasn’t you. You were emotionally attached to him. You could meet him privately.’

‘Why would we want to kill Dev?’ said one woman. ‘Dev was everything, Dev was—’

‘Dev was possibly moving on,’ said Perry.

‘Yes, he was, but . . . well, Dev was going to work on that, wasn’t he? He was going to tell us. He was thinking about how he could help us keep things going without him. Someone else.’

‘Hang on,’ said Sabine. ‘He was looking for a replacement?’

‘You don’t get it,’ said one woman. ‘Dev loved us as much as we loved him.’

‘If you were paying him money,’ said Perry, ‘he wasn’t doing it for the—’

‘No, he wasn’t. But with what we did, I gladly gave my money,’ said one woman. ‘Dev was a special guy.’

‘Where were you all at the time of his death?’

Perry made a note of the time and sat down with each woman, recording where they said they were. Three of them were with their husbands. Another two were with each other at the bowls club, so that was easily checked, and the third hadn’t been on the island. Again, it was easily checked.

‘Let’s look at this another way,’ said Perry. ‘Did Dev have other women apart from you all and Wendy Grant?’

‘Of course he did,’ said one woman. ‘Not that many more, I mean, he’s only human,’ which caused a chuckle amongst them all.

‘There wasn’t any trouble,’ said a woman called Paula, ‘but he had one client he complained to me about.’

‘He’d always tell Paula,’ said the rest of the women, pointing. ‘Dev shared with Paula when he wasn’t feeling a hundred percent. But that’s Paula. Paula takes your troubles, you know.’

‘And what did he share with you?’ asked Perry.

‘Well, Dev would talk with me. Sometimes we just sat and talked after we’d done whatever I wanted to be. Go down into his kitchen and he’d talk about stuff. How things were going, and he was having a rough time with one client.’

‘In what way?’ asked Perry.

‘She was always forcing money on him, constantly demanding he look after her only, something about being his first, or early on. She worried him, I know that. I didn’t know her name, and it wasn’t any one of our group because he would talk openly about all of us to each other. We were his aqua fit group, you know. The only people who didn’t know at aqua fit was the other guy, John, our instructor, and a couple of other women who just came along. But we all knew each other, and it was an open secret among us. But this other woman was bothering him.’

‘What was he afraid of?’ asked Perry. ‘I mean, Dev was a strong man.’

‘It wasn’t that. He said that she was clever. She was always complaining, though, about everybody else. It’s one thing you had to accept with Dev, especially where we were. I mean, Dev would take none of us on as his special one. You know, a genuine lover. But he looked after us almost like a group leader. But not with this woman. She felt she owned him. She paid her money, and owned him. That’s what he said. And if he was against doing something, she just gave more money. She was incredibly dominant towards him, he said. He struggled; he really struggled with it.’

‘Did he give any clue,’ asked Sabine, ‘to who she was, anything at all?’

‘Well, I know she was an older woman. And, unlike us, it was more about owning him. You see with us, Dev helped us see and explore different fantasies we’ve had. It’s been fun. It’s been fun, but none of us ever felt that we owned Dev. Dev was just a spark in our life. Dev was filling in the gap that was missing. Something we needed, and he was doing it discreetly, and he was a boon to us. For her it wasn’t the same, and when he told her,’ said Paula, ‘about the fact he’d found someone, well, he said she hit the roof.’

‘Did you know when she met him or anything like that?’ asked Perry.

‘No. We knew when each of us was seeing Dev because we told each other. Dev never let on. He wouldn’t do that. Your time with Dev was private. Details were private. He knew we knew each other, knew that we talked, and we talked about him to each other. He’d never spoke to us about each other. That was a strict rule with him. So, he never told us about this client with the exception of Paula,’ said one woman.

‘I think Dev was lonely,’ said Paula. ‘So I was his comforting ear, and I was quite happy with that. But then he found someone, and he told me, and I was delighted for him. I said to him, “You can tell the rest of the girls; they’ll not mind.” He was one of us.’

‘We’ll keep this quiet,’ said Perry, ‘but don’t leave the island; also give us details of the best way to contact you quietly. We may need to speak to you all again. Of course, we will check out subtly what you’ve said, your alibis. If you think of anything else, tell us. We need to find out who this other woman was.’

When they left the room, Perry sat down in the middle as Sabine came back into the room.

‘Did you just feel a little strange there?’ said Sabine.

‘In what way?’ asked Perry.

‘These are people going behind their partner’s backs and whatever, having sex and that, with someone they’re paying. But this felt like a community group. It was weird.’

‘Yes,’ said Perry. ‘He was definitely different. He really took on a good persona. That’s why they kept coming back. In fact, he was so good with it, they were almost proud, happy for him when he found that special person. But we need to find that special person.’

‘But what’s Torquil got to do with it?’ said Sabine.

‘Nobody’s mentioned Torquil, except for Clementine. That’s what Hope said to us earlier today,’ said Perry. ‘I wonder.’

‘What?’

‘Imagine Dev finds someone, and you’re that other person, the one who thinks she owns him. If you think you own him, and he’s found someone, how do you hurt him? Well, you could find out who it is.’

‘You’d have to be quite clever to find out, though.’

‘Up to a point, he was clever. He’s got a whole community going on here. If you’re closer to him and see what he’s doing, maybe you start following him. Maybe you start checking what he’s up to.’

‘If you know the refuge house,’ said Perry, ‘you’ll know everybody going in.’

‘So what? You could attack him from there.’

‘Clementine has to go in there. Do you see Clementine? Do you see the others? Do you investigate them? Do you see what’s going on? I mean, the others, who cares? They’re like you, you know. If she’s going on and paying enough and, and being his special one, why we’ve got all these other women on the go, older women. Well that’s all right. They’re nothing to Dev. He takes money off them,’ said Perry. ‘But if he’s not taking money, well then.’

‘So what, you think Torquil’s a setup?’

‘Imagine who you see going in. Okay. And you investigate them, if you’re good at this,’ said Perry. ‘You investigate them. You’ve obviously been able to follow him, track them down. We are looking for someone who is older, but who also knows these skills. Somebody knows how to do things. Someone who knows to make a frenzied attack, to make it look that way. Someone who could have tracked Torquil. They know Torquil’s involved with Clementine because Clementine comes in and uses the house. Through the underground passage, like they do. They can track all of them, but they can’t find her.’

‘And then what kills him?’

‘If it’s been going on for a while, does she feel betrayed? If he says no when he’s still getting on with it, this person could kill him, and kill the new player. Then kill Torquil to set up a line for someone else to take the blame. We need to find this other new partner of Dev’s. They may be at risk.’

Chapter 21

Perry and Sabine walked back into the station to be met by Hope.

‘How’d it go?’ she asked.

‘Dev had someone on to him, annoyed at him, a client, an older client,’ said Perry. ‘We know that none of these women did it. They’re like a social club around him. Like a groupie fan base of older women around Dev. They’re devastated that he’s dead. We just had a gushing outpouring of grief and appreciation for him. It’s crazy!’

Hope stared at Sabine, who simply nodded back.

‘Perry’s right, but this older woman wasn’t along those lines; whoever she was, she paid him a lot of money. She felt as if she owned him. She also knew that he was going away.’

‘It’s nine o’clock now,’ said Hope. ‘Let’s gather and just work out what we know.’

‘No,’ said Sabine, ‘I disagree. We need to find this person in Dev’s normal life, this new person, this young one. I think she may be in trouble.’

‘I think she’s in big trouble,’ said Perry. ‘Listen,’ he said to Hope. ‘Torquil’s a complete red herring.’

‘He’s a dead red herring,’ said Hope.

‘Yes, but you talked to Clementine,’ said Perry. ‘Today, you talked to her and Clementine was Dev’s sort of friend partner. Clementine would have been seen going in. The person who’s paying Dev, they must know about the refuge house, the tunnel underneath. So, if they’re clever, they can watch who goes in and out.

‘Now these people, they’ll know Clementine is slightly different to the rest of them. Clementine’s also the sex worker. You can talk about jealousy, and everything else, but Clementine’s thrown a curveball into that. If she’d have gone secret and tried to hold back on us, we would have been pushing and said, “Oh no, it’s to do with Torquil. There’s been a fight between him and Clementine.”

‘You’ve been trying to explain Torquil’s death in a completely different way, but Clementine puts a spanner in those works. We know she didn’t do it as well. So whoever did tried to set up Clementine. But that also means to me that she’s trying to finish things off. I think whoever it was, they got annoyed with Dev having this new woman in his life and decided to end Dev, and then to end her.’

‘But how do they find her? There are no other deaths. I mean, she’s still out here, isn’t she?’ asked Hope.

‘The fact Dev’s dead,’ said Perry, ‘that will cause waves. If you’re that person, that will affect you. They must have some idea. They must have some way of tracking them or to find them or at least have an idea.’

‘So, we’re talking about somebody clever,’ said Hope.

‘Yes, somebody skilled actually, to a point,’ said Sabine.

‘Well, let’s find that new lover then,’ said Hope.

‘It’s going to be difficult,’ said Sabine. ‘I imagine they’ll go underground. Their world’s just collapsed. This is the new love of their life. He’s giving all of this stuff up to live with you. To make you the chief person in his life. Suddenly he’s dead. You’ve got to be panicking. Look at the way he’s been killed. You’ve got to be fearing for your own life, afraid you’d be brought in amongst the police, who are going to suspect you.’

‘And that,’ said Perry, ‘is how they’ll identify her as well, this other person who wants to kill her.’

‘Well, Dev’s life seemed to be the leisure centre, Pilates, and the gym. As well as working in his own restaurant, outside of that he’s got all the women. He hasn’t got time to do anything else. I’ll get down to the gym, see if I can come up with anything you missed,’ said Hope. ‘You two get yourselves a cuppa. Then go back over what you’ve been talking about, see if anything else comes to mind.’

Hope ran back up to her office, grabbed her leather jacket and shouted at Ross to follow her. He came out with his laptop bag over his shoulder. Hope jumped into the driver’s seat, taking the short distance across town to the gym that Dev used.

Hope parked up in front of the gym and strolled into it along with Ross. The lights were still on despite it being half nine, and the gym seemed to be reasonably busy. Weights were being pumped, the sound of them crashing back down after each lift rang out in the background. Hope approached a young woman sitting behind the reception desk.

‘I’m Detective Inspector Hope McGrath,’ said Hope, holding up her credentials. ‘This is Detective Sergeant Ross. I know people have been down before to talk to you, but I need to talk to you about Dev Dalgetty.’

‘Okay, but like was said to your officers when they came down, he used to come here in the morning, just after nine o’clock. The way the gym operates, you get the diehards that come in at seven in the morning, all off to their work after, but Dev didn’t. Dev came in about nine o’clock.’

‘That makes sense,’ said Ross. ‘He’d had the restaurant in the evening and other things. He’s not going to be up early.’

‘Oh, the OAPs came in at that point,’ said the woman.

‘Did he crowd around them?’ asked Hope. ‘Did he talk to them?’

‘No, no. No, no. Dev would not do that. Dev generally was just working out. He left the OAPs alone. I mean, the OAPs have a cup of tea afterwards. At that time in the morning, Dev was very intense. He was working out. You couldn’t have spoken to him. Well, if you did, he’d have said hello and whatever, but he didn’t bother with anyone at that point.’

‘What about Clementine Sukor?’

‘Clementine comes in from time to time but not at that hour. Dev and she, you’d occasionally see at the gym together, but not much. She’d say hello to him when she came in. Occasionally, they talked.’

‘Did Dev come in at any other time of day?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, he occasionally would come on an odd evening, but to be honest, he didn’t seem to be here that often in the evening. It was every now and again.’

‘And what happened then?’

‘Well, I didn’t see him all the time, but yeah, he was a bit more sociable in the evening. But I think the younger people come in then, people more Dev’s age. But saying that, you wouldn’t have seen him here like three, four times a week, like some of them. He’d have been here very occasionally.’

‘So, he was sort of socialising when he came in then.’

‘Yes,’ said the woman.

‘Do you mind,’ said Hope, ‘if Sergeant Ross here taps into your membership system? Do you log people coming in and out?’

‘Yes. You have to scan in with your card. That’s how we know people have been here. We do try to keep track of things, see who’s using the gym. We send emails out to people who haven’t been in contact for a while. You need to keep the interest going, you know. We also send different emails out because we sometimes have events during the day or at night. There is no point sending them to people who don’t come at those parts of the day.’

Ross spun around the desk and pulled out his laptop. Hope turned and looked around the gym. What was going on? Gyms were funny. They were people clearly trying to impress with the weights they were lifting. There were a few others who weren’t, and the crowd at this time of night was in truth a lot younger. There certainly weren’t a lot of middle-aged women.

She stepped over and watched through the window. Dev came during the day, and worked out hard. He came in the evening to meet people. There must be somebody from the evening. That must be it. There must have been someone in the evening he’d met. Hope turned back and got a nod from Ross. He was clearly into the system. She walked over and stood beside him.

‘Right, track Dev, track Dev first. Okay.’

‘But we’ve tracked Dev already. We did this, we had a look and we couldn’t tie anything up with him.’

‘Well, what would we be looking at?’

‘Older women. Clients who would be there. People who would have—’

‘Can we look at younger women?’

‘There were a lot of people and I had to sort of filter things out, and at the time we were looking for clients; we were looking for—’

‘Yes,’ said Hope. ‘But we’re not now. Just look at Dev. What’s Dev’s pattern over these last couple of months?’

Ross began to type. Hope saw charts and times and images passing through, and then Ross sat back.

‘What?’ said Hope.

‘Look on the screen,’ said Ross. ‘Do you see it?’

‘No, what?’ said Hope.

‘Well, he starts off following the trend that the receptionist has said. He’s coming in during the day, very, very occasional visits. And in the evening, maybe once a week. And that’s until about, well, six weeks ago.’

‘Six weeks ago?’

‘He hasn’t been in the last six weeks in the evening.’

‘So that must be when he’s found her. Why would you come? Why would you come looking for a girl, if you’d found one?’

‘So, what are we looking for then?’ asked Ross.

‘Well, somebody who comes along in the evening.’

‘But do they stay in the evening?’

‘Can you track who’s in with Dev? Go back four months. Track who’s in with Dev. Yes?’

‘Well, yes, I guess I can.’

‘Rule anyone out who’s over thirty.’

‘Well, that’ll cut things down. And all men out. Okay.’

‘Okay. And then bring up who’s in, rank them by the number of times they come when Dev is here.’

Ross began to work, and Hope stepped away because she knew it would take a moment or two.

‘Okay, I’ve got it,’ said Ross, and Hope returned to the laptop.

‘What are we seeing?’ asked Hope.

‘Well, these are the number of people who’ve been in at the same time, okay? There’s several women there. Number of young women. Six or seven.’

‘Okay,’ said Hope. ‘But let’s think about what he did. Dev has his routine where he’s training hard, and then he comes in the evening and meets these women, okay?’

‘Yes,’ said Ross.

‘And when you look at it over the last three or four months, they’ve maybe been in here, at the same time, seven or eight times.’

‘Okay. So what does that tell us?’ said Hope.

‘You were saying he’s coming in the evening? Well? He’s only going to be in seven or eight times, twelve, maybe at the most. Maybe. They don’t match any particular evening, the chart’s just showing coincidence. They’re in here with him. Any of them could be in here with him. It’s not showing that they’re actually seeing him. We’re not sitting thinking, “Oh yes, they’re definitely attached to him now.” They’re not meeting him, so to speak.’

‘Can you separate out,’ said Hope, ‘the evening times from the daytime?’

‘What?’ said Ross.

‘The evening times from the day times.’

‘Well, the young ones are coming in the evening,’ said Ross. ‘So, if I do that, it’s going to roughly show the same thing, isn’t it?’

‘It might do,’ said Hope.

Ross entered his instructions and then said, ‘Look,’ he said, ‘this is the evening time only. It’s basically the same chart. It’s the same people.’

‘Is it exactly the same?’ asked Hope.

‘I think there’s one less woman.’

‘Flip it, flip it,’ said Hope, ‘show me the one who isn’t there, so just do the daytimes when Dev’s coming in. Show me the matches during the daytime.’

Ross input the numbers and suddenly, the list was brief. Three names, of which only two had one hit, and the other showed a good seven.

‘Who’s that? Orla Dennis.’

‘Yes, Orla Dennis,’ said Ross. He tapped into the computer again. ‘This,’ he said, ‘this is just her activity, okay, this her activity. Look, she’s only been a member for eight weeks. In the first week she comes, she’s in the evening, once or twice that week.

‘But Dev wasn’t in that one,’ said Ross, ‘he wasn’t in the first one. He’s in that one. He’s in that one and then . . . look. Look at that. Every week, once a week, she’s here. When he’s doing his gym work in the evening, now she’s not here every time. That’s why she showed up as being the same as the others, but she’s in during the day. She’s in with him. At the same time, every day. Why?’

‘Got her day off, do you think?’ said Hope. She went over to the receptionist. ‘Do you know Orla Dennis?’

‘Orla. Orla works in the supermarket,’ said the receptionist. ‘She’s been about for a while; I mean, she’s, she’s from here.’

‘She hasn’t been at the gym very long, has she?’

‘No, she came in the evenings and I thought she’d given up. I haven’t seen her in the evenings since.’

‘Well, she’s been coming once a week for the last six weeks on a Monday.’

‘I don’t work Mondays,’ said the receptionist. ‘That’s why I wouldn’t have seen her. She might have been in this morning.’

‘No, she wasn’t. This is a Monday,’ said Hope.

‘Maybe it’s the shifts,’ she said. ‘I know it wasn’t working out for her, anyway. She works at the supermarket.’

Hope turned back to Ross. ‘Supermarket, now! That’s where she works. Let’s find her.’

Ross tidied his laptop, and hurried outside, to see Hope already behind the wheel. ‘We need to be quick, Alan.’

‘You think it’s her?’

‘She comes once in the evening, and then all of a sudden she’s in with Dev once a week when she can. She’s working the other times. That’s what’s going on,’ said Hope. ‘That must be it. We’ll check with the supermarket and find out.’

‘Well, we got her then.’

‘Yes, but if you’re following Dev, you’ll have seen her start to come in. You’ll start to put that together. Whoever is who’s after her, who’s after Dev, actually killed Dev. If they’re still after her, they can find her. We need to be quick about it. We need to be quick.’

Chapter 22

Hope parked the car outside the supermarket and raced inside with Ross. They grabbed a member of staff asking for the manager, but he’d long gone home and they were now on the evening supervisor. A Tannoy call went out, and Hope met him in one of the aisles as he was heading back towards the main office.

‘Hello sir, I’m DI Hope McGrath. This is DS Ross. We’re here to talk to Orla Dennis. Is Orla about?’

‘Orla,’ said the manager, ‘Orla’s out on deliveries. She usually does the home delivery in the evening. What time’s it now? Oh my, it’s like, it’s nearly half nine. She should be heading back soon. It’s very popular these evening deliveries, especially after COVID.’

‘Can you get a list of where she’s gone? We might try to catch her out there.’

‘This is serious, then?’ asked the manager.

‘I wouldn’t say serious, but have you got a tracker on the van?’

‘No, a bit much for us. I got the delivery routes and the timings. I’ll go get that for you.’

The man went off to the office, and Hope followed him. As he walked, he talked over his shoulder to her.

‘Orla’s been buzzing, do you know that? She’s actually given her notice in; she’s working her last month.’

‘So,’ Hope said, ‘she’s been really happy.’

‘Well, until the last couple of days. Last couple of days she’s been, well, it’s hard to talk to her. Silent. You ask what’s wrong and she won’t say. I offered to give her a few days off, but she wouldn’t take it; she refused.’

‘How long has she worked for you?’

‘Five years. Good worker, nice lass.’

‘What age is she?’

‘Twenty-three. I say, nice lass. Works hard, gets on with it.’

‘She started at the gym recently.’

‘Yes, but she’s giving that up as well. I think she’d paid for the membership,’ he said, ‘and then she said she was just going to see that out. It clashed anyway what with the time of day and work. It’s difficult when you do shift work. All shift workers find this, you know. You know you’re on the morning or you’re on the evening. You try to give people a bit of stability in that, but we have to mix and match too. It’s a weird life.’

Tell me about it, thought Hope. As a detective, I’m all over the place as it is.

‘Right,’ said the manager, pulling open one of the office doors, ‘in here. John, where’s the delivery list for tonight?’

‘Sitting over there,’ said the man.

‘Brilliant.’ The manager pulled across a couple of sets of papers, and went through them. ‘Right, that one. No, that’s the wrong one, wrong, wrong, wrong. Where are we going, Balallan area? Yep, got it here. That’s her. That’s the addresses. Time-wise, she should be about this one, actually. This one here.’ He circled one of the addresses. ‘If she’s not there, she’d be at the one before, but I wouldn’t think they’d be much different.’

‘Could try calling her, but I mean she wouldn’t answer her mobile. She’s driving.’

‘Can you get that mobile number for me?’ said Hope.

‘Of course I can,’ said the manager, disappearing off into his filing cabinet for records. He came back out. ‘There you go, that’s her number.’

Hope looked at it, took her mobile phone, and dialled. She got nothing back.

‘Well, maybe she’s driving,’ said the man.

‘I don’t seem to be able to get through. She doesn’t seem to be there. It was straight to voicemail.’

‘Maybe she’s set it up for that,’ suggested the manager.

Hope turned to Ross. ‘How much do we think she’s under serious threat?’

‘Well, when you say about our killer being able to go to the gym and find her, I’d say a serious threat to life. Yes, let’s contact the authorities. See if we can get a trace on her.’

Hope took her phone again and dialled a number to ask for a mobile phone search. To trace the phone, you had to make the case that it was necessary, and Hope spent five minutes explaining what was going on. It was her judgment, and she said it was essential. The phone call was closed down, and she then waited to hear back from the mobile phone companies. She looked over at Alan Ross.

‘Alan, get hold of Perry and Sabine. Get that address list to them. Get them moving already. We’ll wait here for the call, just in case the mobile signal isn’t any good when we head further out. It’s not uncommon on this island. Give them the rough idea, and tell them to get going. Okay?’

‘Right,’ said Ross. He took the delivery list and disappeared out of the room.

‘I’ll be sad to let her go. I don’t know what’s come over her the last while,’ said the manager. ‘It was after that death. I don’t know if she knew Dev. I mean, everybody knew Dev in here. He used to come in, shopping for his restaurant at times. He got some of the cash and carry at the back. Jovial man, very jovial, very happy, always had a tale to tell.

‘And all the ladies always said you had to watch him. Sometimes when he was in and he was at the till, you would see him. He was having a right bit of banter with some of the older ones. Some of them fancied him rotten. The stuff some people said about him in here,’ the manager laughed. ‘Sad day, that one.’

‘Has she said anything about him recently?’ asked Hope.

‘No. She’s said very little these last couple of days. Prior to that, I can’t think of her having spoken about him. But she was in a really good mood. Fantastic mood. I teased her one day. I said, “Is there a new light in your life or something?” And she just, she just beamed. I think there must have been. She must have been seeing someone. She’s quite a private girl in most ways, though.’

‘What does she do at the gym?’

‘Oh, you know what they’re like, these girls. Complain about how the weight’s coming on. I know I’d like to be out of shift work. I’ve been working shifts all my life. You end up eating at all the wrong times, all the rest of that. But Orla, Orla looked great. You know. I mean, like yourself, she wouldn’t have a problem attracting men.’

Hope gave a nod, but when she turned her back on the manager, her face grimaced. Everybody kept saying she didn’t know what it was like; she had her own problems. Didn’t people realise this? Just because you had a figure didn’t mean it was all plain sailing.

Hope stepped out of the office and watched as the evening shoppers wandered here and there. It was later so it wasn’t that busy. She watched as several of them scanned items across the new self-service tills. They weren’t great, were they

We are losing things, she thought. Like Dalgetty. They’d lost him now too. But that thing where they said he was full of banter, full of chat. You missed that, that one-to-one interaction, that humanness at the till.

She wondered at his putting together the ideal of being a sexual partner for so many of these women. And she thought of John. She was more than a sexual partner for John, wasn’t she? I mean, he saw more than just that. Yes, he was struggling at the moment; he was hungering for that, but there was more there, wasn’t there?

She stopped for a moment. Where did that come from? Of course, there’s more than that. John and she got on well. They got on like a house on fire. It was just the difficulty of having family, the time commitment, the tiredness, all the rest of it. That was the issue.

‘I’ve been looking at these,’ said Ross, approaching Hope while waving bits of paper. ‘These deliveries. I went in and talked to the guy about them, where they all were. He’s pointing one out here. This is a new delivery, no orders from this address before. They highlight it because it could be somewhere you don’t know, but also because it’s somebody different. So, they might not understand the way things work, and they want to make sure they’re definitely in and all the rest of that.’

‘You think they should go there first,’ said Hope.

‘Well, if you are a killer and you are trying to lure her out somewhere, you would do that, wouldn’t you? I mean, is it even somebody’s house?’

‘What does it say on it? Who’s it going to?’

‘It’s a Mrs M Bland,’ said Ross.

‘M Bland? Get the address, come on.’

Ross pulled out his phone and tapped in the address. As he did so, Hope’s own phone vibrated. She saw it was a return call—the mobile phone company.

‘The number you’re looking to trace, it’s gone off. It went off about twenty minutes ago. No signal.’

‘Where was it when we lost it?’

‘It’s in a place called Balallan,’ said, ‘sort of towards the end of it.’

Hope looked over at Ross and waved him to her. She looked down at the map for the address they’d been given for the delivery. She could see a house there, but it didn’t look like much of a house. Ross had the map blown up. Hope reduced the map size, so she saw a bigger scale of Balallan. The house was towards the end of Balallan, the end farthest from Stornoway.

‘Thank you,’ said Hope, closing the call. ‘Perry and Sabine need to get going. Mobile’s gone, there’s no more contact. And it’s towards that house where they lost the phone contact.’

Ross picked up his phone again and placed a call through. ‘I’ll get them to put the foot down properly.’

Chapter 23

Perry was driving out of Stornoway. He had just come through a set of terraced houses, where a right turn would take you down towards the Callanish Stones. Instead, he was continuing straight on when he saw Sabine reaching for her phone.

‘We’re on our way; we can’t go any quicker,’ said Perry. ‘I’m not putting the blue lights on if it’s something minor.’

‘Hope’ll just be edgy. Look, everybody’s edgy. You know what it’s like, Perry,’ said Sabine. She put the phone to her ear as Perry increased his speed slightly. ‘Sabine here, what’s up?’

‘It’s Ross. The mobile phone signal of Orla Dennis is gone.’

‘What do you mean it’s gone?’ asked Sabine.

‘It’s gone. It’s disappeared. We contacted the service and they’ve said there’s no mobile signal. It stopped at the far end of Balallan, right close to that house you’re going to.’

‘You think something’s gone on? You think something’s seriously up?’ Sabine saw Perry looking across at her, and she started nodding frantically. The car increased speed dramatically.

‘You bet we do, Hope says to get there as quick as you can.’

‘We’re on our way!’ said Sabine.

Sabine closed the call down, and turned to Perry. ‘Her mobile phone’s out. She could be in trouble, Perry. The address we’re going to is where the mobile phone signal stopped.’

Perry flicked a switch inside the car. Blue lights on the outside of the car began to flash. Racing along, Perry looked ahead and saw a weaving road. The first corner he hung on, but at the second, he had to slam the brakes to make sure he could take it in time. He dropped a gear and tore off again along the road.

‘Just make sure we get there in one piece,’ said Sabine.

‘That’s not good, that’s not good at all,’ said Perry. ‘She must have been looking out for her. She must have decided that was it, woman scorned and all that stuff.’

‘But where’s she gone? Do you think she’ll just kill her there? Do you think she’ll just—’

‘It wouldn’t even be a proper house. This place is full of them. You get rows of houses together, in the middle there’s one that’s run down. It’s still got an address and everything.’

‘Just watch the road,’ said Sabine, ‘and get us there.’

The light was starting to dim now. Perry had not just the flashing blue lights on, but the white lights of the car turned up full. There was the spitting of rain on the windscreen as he raced along.

Balallan was halfway down the road to Tarbert, and he ignored the road signs as he passed through a couple of villages where the speed limit said forty. The road was bendy, though thankfully it wasn’t single-track. Perry kept the speed up as much as he could. He watched as the speedometer occasionally touched ninety before he’d have to slam the brakes to take corners at sixty or fifty.

It had been a while since Perry had driven like this. He’d had instruction, of course, but Perry wasn’t one for driving. Perry quite enjoyed getting the bus. He appreciated the sedateness of things, but now he was on the charge because he had to. And he wouldn’t hold back. Sabine’s face contorted every time he swung a corner. He was pushing it, pushing the limits. But there was no time, no time to lose.

The car flashed its lights as it raced through Balallan towards the end of the long village. There, a couple of houses were on the right-hand side, including the one they sought.

Sabine looked at their maps function and cried out to Perry. The car pulled into the right and he braked. It slid to a halt, dust flying up. Perry had his door open before it had even begun to settle. There was a spit of rain in the air, but Perry and Sabine made their way quickly up the drive to see a delivery truck sitting there. It had the supermarket branding on it. It was just sitting there doing nothing. No engine running, just sitting there. The lights were off, too.

Perry put his hand up to Sabine. ‘Whoa,’ he said, ‘that’s all switched off. If you were going out on deliveries, you wouldn’t be doing that. Certainly, your side lights, your tail lights, all that stuff. If you had them on, they’d still be on. Cab light. Door open, if you were doing the delivery.’

Sabine nodded. Together, the two of them walked slowly up the driveway. As Perry crept up, he thought he saw something on the ground, and he bent down. There was something there with blood around it. Something close. As he reached down to touch it, he heard a loud thwack, and Sabine was suddenly tumbling off the driveway to the side, just by some trees.

Perry jumped up quickly, turned and ran over to Sabine. He was about to arrive and reach down when suddenly his right leg went out from under him. It was pulled, yanked hard up the ways, and he realised that his leg had been grabbed by a noose of some sort. Suddenly, he was upside down. The contents of pockets fell out, his phone too, and he was swinging backwards and forwards, hanging upside down from a tree. The ground was a good five feet away. Below him, Sabine was lying there, blood by the side of her ear.

Perry looked around him, thrashing as he hung, desperate to see if somebody was coming out to them. He would have to defend himself in this awkward position. The suit jacket he was wearing now flopped down behind him. He tried to bend up and grab the rope just above his hanging ankle.

‘Sabine,’ he said. ‘Sabine, you okay?’

There was no answer. She was lying prone.

Damn it! thought Perry. He continued to spin around, but couldn’t see anyone else there. His phone was below him, and he saw it vibrate. That would be Hope, trying to check up on where they were at. Maybe Sabine’s would be going off. But she hadn’t answered.

Perry breathed deeply. What was he going to do? Reaching up for his leg, he tried to drag himself, working his hands up the leg. But bending over this tightly was not so simple for Perry. Maybe it was all those burgers, but at the moment, he didn’t feel that flexible.

Perry began to shout loudly, calling out that it was the police and they needed help. Over and over again, ‘Police! Help! Help! Police!’ The tree was obscured by a couple of other trees from the road because otherwise Perry thought, people would be sure to stop when they saw a man swinging like a lunatic from his ankle. Perry was also a realist. This was Balallan. It was late at night. How many people would be going past? He shouted loudly again.

‘Help! This is the police. We need help.’

Perry had two thoughts uppermost in his mind. One was Sabine. There was definitely blood on the side of her head, and that was never a good sign. She would need to be looked at quickly. His other thought was for Orla. Somebody had obviously done something to her. She wasn’t here; her van was here. The killer might have her. But there was nothing else, thought Perry, nothing else here.

He reached into the pockets of his jacket. There must be something, must be something he could use. Finding a nightstick, he tried to wedge that in between his feet and the rope. But he couldn’t do anything with it. He let the nightstick drop to the floor.

The next thing he tried were the handcuffs, producing them from inside his jacket, and he put one on and closed it around the loop that held his leg. He then tried to grab onto the other end, having closed the cuffs, and pull himself up. He got further and further, his stomach getting tighter and tighter as he rolled up, but then he couldn’t go any further. Perry slipped, and he fell back again, swinging wildly.

Then he remembered something. He had a small pocket knife. It really was small. The kind you get on holiday. The Swiss Army knife had a pair of scissors. It had a nail file, but it had one knife. The rope that was securing him looked thick. But Perry reached inside, undid the little zipper inside the pocket of his jacket and produced the penknife. He took out the single blade and then reached up and began to cut into his rope.

It was slow going. A strand at a time, and even then only after significant pressure. The trouble was the knife wasn’t sharp. Yes, it was not completely blunt, but it wasn’t sharp enough to simply go through rope of that quality. Back and forth, back and forth in a sawing motion. He wasn’t sure if that helped. Then he picked at different parts of the rope that secured him. He gave a small cheer when a couple of strands broke. Hope would be here soon, though. It wouldn’t take her that long to get out to Balallan. Half an hour at the most, maybe. He looked down at Sabine again. Blood was coming from her ear. It didn’t seem to be stopping.

Perry pulled himself up and redoubled his efforts; after he made the first few incisions it seemed to be getting easier. He realised that if he dug it in, flicked the knife round towards him and pulled, he cut through a lot quicker. He did this scooping action over and over and over again. Slowly the rope frayed.

It was another ten minutes before, suddenly, the rope snapped and Perry tumbled straight down towards the ground. He was fortunate enough to pull his head up, and his shoulders took the brunt of the impact. And Perry for a moment lay stunned on the floor. But then he got himself together. As he did so, a man appeared.

‘Who are you?’ asked Perry.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ said the man.

‘Who are you?’ said Perry. ‘I’m Detective Constable Warren Perry. Identify yourself.’

‘I’m John Nash, I live next door,’ said the man. ‘I heard the commotion, somebody shouting so I came out. At first I didn’t see anything, but I thought I’ll come and check again because the shouting had stopped. What are you doing?’

‘Get an ambulance, phone an ambulance now, right away!’

‘Is your friend all right?’

‘I don’t know. There’s blood coming from the side of her head. Phone an ambulance.’

Perry watched as the man raced for his house. By now, Perry was trying to get himself back on his feet, and he wandered over to Sabine. He looked at the blood and saw the cut underneath her ear. He took his jacket, pulled out a handkerchief, and started pressing down on the blood.

The man came back about two minutes later. ‘I’ve got one coming, got one coming. I’ve said you’re police.’

‘Good,’ said Perry.

‘Is the old lady okay, though?’ asked the man.

‘The old lady?’ said Perry.

‘Yes, she came in a red car. Think she parked it around the back. I also don’t know why the delivery driver’s here. I thought he’d gone on down a couple. What’s he stopped here for? It’s an abandoned house. There’s nobody to deliver to here. You don’t think we’ve got those squatters in, do you?’

‘No, no, no,’ said Perry, ‘no.’ He took a deep breath and found his head reeling. Perry wasn’t quite sure what was going on. He picked up his phone and called Hope.

‘We’re nearly there, Perry, what’s up?’

‘We’re too late here,’ said Perry. ‘We’ve got here, and Orla’s gone. I’ve been caught in a trap; Sabine’s down at the moment. Don’t worry about us, got an ambulance coming.’

‘Got an ambulance coming?’

‘Yes, I said, “Don’t worry about us,”’ said Perry. ‘Delivery van is here. However, someone parked a red car around the back. Next-door neighbour said it was an older woman.’

‘Older woman, what’s he mean by that? Middle aged, or what? Anyway, Wendy Grant is not our person. We know that.’

‘Hang on,’ said Perry, and he turned back to the neighbour, ‘Older woman. You said an older woman. How old a woman?’

‘She must have been close to her eighties, if not in them.’

Perry picked up the phone again. ‘He’s saying close to her eighties.’

‘There’s no one close to her eighties. We’ve interviewed. There’s no one,’ said Hope. ‘I mean, he’s not going to be involved with them. In her eighties?’

‘What have we found out?’ said Perry. ‘Think about it, think. We need to think, because whoever it is has got Orla. And if we can’t find her, we can’t save her.’

‘I’m thinking,’ said Hope.

‘Well,’ said Perry, ‘we know it’s an older woman. We know that she’s annoyed, annoyed at Dev.’

‘And she’s got to be good, remember, Perry? We talked about Torquil. What happened to him? You said they had to be able to sneak up; they had to know how to use that knife in a frenzied attack.’

‘Or,’ said Perry, ‘they know how to use a knife. They know what to do with it, how to strike. They’re not going to go in and hit bone; they’re going to go in and clean with it.’

‘What’s an eighty-year-old going to do anyway? I mean, how are they going to subdue Orla? How are they going to . . . ’

‘Think about it,’ said Perry. ‘Maybe they’re . . . , no!’ he cried. ‘No! Are you driving?’

‘Yes,’ said Hope.

‘Right, put Ross on for me.’

‘Ross here.’

‘I’ve got a hunch,’ said Perry, ‘in all the time we’ve dealt with this, there’s only been someone who’s old enough for the description I’ve just been given. She was called Dolaig, and she was at the Pilates group. She was one of them but didn’t like him. Kept on complaining. She didn’t have a good word to say about Dev. Find us some information, Ross. Seems she’s got a red car. You’re going need to go to the Pilates person, get her surname and all that stuff. Look that up for me, Ross.’

Perry stood waiting for the ambulance. It would be a while. The neighbour was holding a handkerchief over Sabine’s ear. Perry could see the reddening on the handkerchief, though. It seemed like five minutes before Ross called him back.

‘What is it?’ said Perry. ‘What did you find out?’

‘Dolaig. Dolaig MacIver. Got an address. Also got a car description.’

‘Yeah,’ said Perry, ‘what is it?’

‘It’s a red model. In fact, do you remember Wendy Grant’s car?’ said Ross.

‘Yes.’

‘It’s the same. It’s the same make and model.’

‘So that’s her,’ said Perry, ‘that’s her.’

‘She’s an eighty-year-old woman. How can an eighty-year-old woman do that?’

‘Eighty-year-old woman has just been here. Eighty-year-old woman has Orla, and the eighty-year-old woman has just gone off in a car. She’s just set up traps for me and Sabine. That’s who you’re looking for. It’s an eighty-year-old woman. She was in the military. Military Intelligence. That’s how she knows what to do.’

‘Perry, it’s Hope on the speaker. Are you serious about this? You think it’s her? They drove a stiletto in. She didn’t look as if she was capable of much.’

‘Yet the eighty-year-old woman is doing the same Pilates that Dev’s doing, that all the younger women are doing. She’s the old one in there,’ said Perry. ‘Go to Dolaig’s address. I’ve got Sabine. Get to Dolaig’s. There’s no time to waste!.’

‘Okay,’ said Hope.

Perry closed the call, and he turned and knelt down beside Sabine. He took the handkerchief off the neighbour and carefully, lifted it away. The blood was still coming, although some of it had clotted.

‘Easy, Sabine,’ he said. ‘Easy. We’re nearly there. You’re going to make it. Easy.’

Kneeling there, Perry felt they were in the loneliest place in the world as they waited for the ambulance, for that blessed sound. He struggled to maintain his composure. There were two lives at risk just now, but he could only do one thing about one of them, and that was to press down and hold on.

Chapter 24

Dolaig MacIver had an address in Lochs, and Hope and Ross raced there in the car. They called for other backup, aware that Perry and Sabine were out of the equation. As they hammered along the twisting roads, Hope wondered what sort of woman Dolaig was. She’d been mentioned briefly in notes from the Pilates studio. A severe dislike of Dalgetty. Was that only now? Was that only recently? Hope was also worried because the woman had set up traps that had taken out Sabine and Perry. What sort of background did she have?

The late evening was turning to night, but you could still see the different shades as you passed by the small patches of water that give Lochs its name. That was something else to worry Hope approaching in the dark, but they couldn’t hang back. Orla’s life was at stake. Hope was sure of that.

Ross turned off the main road for Tarbert, and then, after making his way along several other bending roads, he turned left. The area looked even more isolated. That was until Hope saw the large turbine standing on the moor. Along from it was a rather elegant-looking house, one that didn’t really belong.

The local houses here were battered by the weather. They almost looked rather makeshift, strong enough but with running repairs. Some of them were beside houses that hadn’t made it through the years, eyesores on the doorstep. But this house was out of the way, and Hope understood why.

This was bogland. You wouldn’t build on this land, surely. But someone had. And the house, while not being the largest she’d ever seen, certainly had a grandeur to it. There were pillars framing the door and windows that were not there to keep the winter at bay; they were there for a look. Shutters on the outside as well.

‘What does this remind you of, Ross?’ asked Hope.

The house was lit on the outside, and while the lights were electric, they were in the Edwardian style, like lanterns hanging from posts.

‘You think the Edwardian room was for her,’ asked Ross.

‘Do you think?’ said Hope. ‘She must have been one of the early ones. She must have been the first one.’

‘But there’s got to be more to it than this,’ said Ross. ‘What she did with Perry and Sabine, that smacks of—’

‘Somebody that’s had some sort of training,’ said Hope. She could feel a knot go in her stomach. This wasn’t just a murderer. This might be somebody who could handle herself.

But she’s eighty, isn’t she? Isn’t that what they’d said? What did Perry say in his report? Hope took a deep breath and thought. Intelligence and infiltration, but it must have been a long time ago. Yes, yes, that’s what Perry described her as in his report of the meeting at the Pilates class. Looking us right in the face, and we never saw it. We were looking for people capable of physical love for Dev. Not for the ones who saw him as something to own, to control. A person without needs but rather a want to control.

‘Do you think she got money for that turbine? I mean, it’s pretty close.’

A lot of money. She could own him then,’ said Hope. She had the cash and she owned Dev. Dolaig has money from somewhere, clearly, and is not afraid to spend it on what she wants. She wanted him.’

‘Do you want to wait for backup?’ asked Ross.

‘We can’t,’ said Hope, ‘Orla’s life could be in danger. Every second counts. Come on, but be careful; be very careful.’

Ross turned into the driveway and saw a red car. It fitted perfectly the description of Wendy’s car.

Ross got out while Hope kept watch. He pointed to behind the car.

‘The stone driveway, it’s got two lines in it like feet being dragged; they’re leading towards the house.’

‘Well then, we’d better get in,’ said Hope. ‘Go to the front door.’ She followed Ross up to it. As he went to open it, she put a hand out. ‘Easy,’ she said. ‘Easy. There might be something.’

‘What?’ asked Ross. ‘What’s there going to be?’

‘I don’t know.’

Ross put his hand on the door, turned it, and found it to be open. He pushed it and went to walk in, but Hope grabbed his shoulder.

‘Easy,’ she said. She stood at the door, peering in. There was a hallway, portraits on the side. It was the same woman in the portraits, Dolaig. But in them, she was of different ages. Hope shook her head.

‘This woman’s crackers,’ she said. ‘Look at all this. I mean, it’s one thing to play act something, but this house, this is like—’

‘Proper role-play, isn’t it? Immersed in it.’

Ross started in. He got three steps inside the front door, and Hope heard an almighty rush of mechanics and wind. Suddenly Ross was knocked against the far wall. A spear having hit his arm. The arm was now pinned to the wall, and Ross was crying out in pain.

Hope stepped forward and grabbed it, pulling the spear out of the arm. Ross was howling, shrieking in pain. But Hope pulled him out of the front door, towards the car. Opening the boot, she grabbed the first-aid kit, took out a long bandage and began wrapping Ross’s arm.

‘Get yourself an ambulance out here,’ she said. ‘Can you do that? Can you get on the phone for that?’

Ross’s eyes were watering. He gritted his teeth. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘ but don’t go in! You can wait for backup.’

‘Wherever she’s got her, Orla is in trouble.’

Hope turned back to the door and saw a large stone lying on the ground by the driveway. It took both her hands to carry it, such was the weight of it, but when she got to the front door, she threw it forward, just beyond where Ross had been standing. Nothing, just a dull thud as it landed.

Hope crept forward. She picked it up again and threw it another three feet forward. Again, nothing. Hope picked it up once more and threw it along again. This time, there was a sudden blast of high-intensity wind, like something being shot out of a tiny weapon. She saw the wall on the left-hand side, now peppered with six different darts.

Hope could feel the sweat dripping down her and she took off her leather jacket. Hope hunkered down, wondering what to do. She took out her phone and texted Ross, telling him not to send anyone else in because the place was booby-trapped. As she listened, she could hear a sound from below, and then there was a cry.

It was from below, wasn’t it? She wasn’t mistaken.

A thought struck Hope. Dolaig had set up traps for those coming behind her and out of the house. Well, maybe she realised they’d get on to her. Maybe she thought she would get caught. If so, did she have an escape plan? If she’d been so scorned by Dev, and so angry at Orla, did she even want to get away? Had Torquil’s death just been a distraction until she could get hold of Orla?

Hope listened again and this time she heard what sounded like a whip. There was a cry, a woman’s cry. Hope lay down on the floor, listened carefully and realised she was right above the action. But there must be some way down then, she thought.

She looked along the wooden floor of the hall. There were some rugs. Lying on her belly, she approached the first one. She pulled it hard, waiting to see if something would happen. Nothing did, and it revealed the wooden floor underneath. Scrambling forward, she reached the second rug. She threw it to one side, but it caught. It was attached to something. There was a hatch. But the rug was connected to it so that on closing the hatch the rug went back into place.

Hope crept to the hatch. She heard more cries from below, more sounds of whipping. Carefully, she lifted the hatch and sneaked inside. There was candlelight below, plenty of it, and she arrived in a dank room. She saw an arrangement of buckets and bed warmers that were not from this time, but from a much older day. Hope crept to the door of the room she was now in, noticing it was on a latch. It didn’t have a proper handle. Not like a modern one.

She lifted the latch delicately, pulling the door back. Hope looked inside and could see a younger woman. She was on her knees, leaning forward. Her arms had been tied to the wall. She wore a white maid’s dress, but the back had been ripped open, and Hope could see the welts of whip marks that were rising on her back.

An older woman had her back to Hope, but she was cursing the girl, yelling at her, raging that she could not be with the master. Hope wondered how best to play this. She could run forward, tackle her. She’s a crazy old woman; she wasn’t going to handle Hope in full flow?

Hope crept a few feet forward. A few more, but then the younger woman, whose head was turned by the stroke of a whip, saw Hope and gasped. Almost without hesitation, the older woman seemed to grab something from in front of her and then turned. She was holding an old musket or gun of some sort.

‘No, you don’t,’ said the woman. ‘She has to be disciplined for her behaviour. And not with you here. Not with you.’

Hope froze. The gun, whatever it was, was pointed straight at her head. The young woman beside Dolaig would not help. She was restrained. Hope was now face to face with someone who had already killed two people.

‘You killed them, didn’t you?’ said Hope. ‘Dev. Torquil. You killed them?’

‘The master betrayed me. He no longer deserved the house. He no longer deserved anything. I’ll have the house on my own and this strumpet, this jezebel, she will pay before she dies. I’m the lady of the house now. This is my domain and I shall deal with her as I please. Go, go about your business. Deal with the foul things in the land,’ said Dolaig. ‘This is a matter for the house.’

The woman was clearly not the full shilling. Anybody else, if they were normal, or as normal as murderers got, would have just shot Hope. The game was up. They’d have to get out, have to run. Yet this woman had spoken to Hope as if she expected her to leave.

‘I’ll leave you to it then,’ said Hope. She could hear the cries of the young woman. As Hope turned her back, she took one step, two steps, but didn’t risk a look back. She wanted Dolaig to turn away.

‘Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me!’

‘Silence, girl,’ said Dolaig, and Hope heard the crack of a whip. By the time Orla had cried out, Hope had turned and was running back towards Dolaig. The gun hadn’t left the woman’s hand, and she spun with remarkable alacrity to try to get a shot off at Hope.

Hope had ducked and was driving her shoulder into the woman by the time the shot was fired. It was fired over Hope’s shoulder and hit somewhere. Hope drove Dolaig back, and the older woman’s head smacked off the wall, and the pair fell to the ground.

Hope rolled away to one side, rising onto her feet, ready for the next attack, but she looked down at a silent Dolaig. The older woman’s eyes were closed, and Hope raced forward, feeling around her head. She was breathing, but there was no blood.

Hope turned to Orla. She found her bonds were simply tied and not that difficult to get off. Maybe Dolaig couldn’t tie them that tightly. Having removed them, she went to lift Orla up, and the girl struggled.

‘We need to be careful getting out of here,’ said Hope. ‘She has traps and there might be others that haven’t been sprung.’

She couldn’t grab Dolaig as well, so Hope left her there. There’d soon be backup people and they could take their time securing the woman. Hope picked up the gun however.

Together with Orla, she made her way back to the main hallway. The woman was limping, sore, and in tears. Hope gingerly put her arm around her because of the scars on Orla’s back. As they broke out into the night air, Hope saw the blue lights of an ambulance. Some distance away, Ross was hanging onto his arm, leaning up against the car. He looked woozy.

‘It’s over,’ said Hope. ‘I got her. It’s over!’

Chapter 25

Perry and Sabine were okay. The paramedics had insisted Sabine go to the hospital to get her head injury checked. Perry, apart from the odd bump and bruise, and a sore ankle from where he’d been whipped up into the air, was fine.

With the assistance of Chief Inspector Terry Loughman, Hope interviewed Dolaig the next day at Stornoway police station. She admitted readily to killing Dev. She had a rather interesting perspective on it, describing him as the master of their house and how he had betrayed the family, the estate, and everything. When Hope began to talk about Dolaig paying him, she almost didn’t recognise what Hope was saying.

Ross was in hospital, and so uniform assisted to find out that Dolaig did indeed pay Dev money. Every month, a large amount was taken out. This had grown over the years, and why Dev had entertained the older woman was evident from the size of the monthly payment.

One of the power companies had wanted to put a turbine right where Dolaig owned land, and she had got a princely sum for it. This allowed her to build her own Edwardian house and a lot more. She had lived in Africa in her earlier years in an almost colonial style. Then she’d come back to the land of her birth.

It took some awkward round-the-house questioning, but Dolaig had met Dev nearly eight years ago, not long after he started running the restaurant. She was proud of him, she said, becoming the first of his kind to be master of the house. The house in question was the one by the wind farm, next to the wind turbine. And she had grand ideas that it had a massive estate associated with it.

What was more difficult to address was how Dolaig had set traps and approached Torquil’s death. There was a reluctant admission, entirely off the record, by the security services that Dolaig had been an operative many years ago. Anna Hunt, head of the Service, had intervened to get this admission on Hope’s behalf, as Dolaig’s department had been in operation long before Anna’s had even been formed.

After the conclusion of the second interview, Hope called for a psychiatrist to come in and assess Dolaig. There would be a time and a place later to pull the evidence together, but for now, Hope had her woman. Her killer was behind bars.

Unlike Perry and Sabine, Ross had not been so lucky. He’d lost a lot of blood, and they took him into the hospital and performed a blood transfusion. This meant he was laid up for the next couple of days. The wound that he suffered from the spear was deep, if not life-threatening.

Hope also interviewed Orla Dennis, who said that it was only some six or seven weeks ago she’d met Dev. He’d blown her away with how charming he’d been. She’d gone to the gym as the start of a new lease of life to get herself in shape. But she hadn’t enjoyed it except for meeting Dev. She went back once a week, when she could, to meet him there.

Dev had said to her he was having problems. He’d openly admitted what he’d done with his life but said that for Orla he would give it up. He’d said there’d be no problem from the majority of the women he was entertaining, but there was one who wouldn’t understand. When he died, Orla panicked. But she’d gone into work because no one was meant to know about her and Dev. And if they didn’t know, and she kept going as normal, how could they know? It was the safest option. Of course, she realised now that she had been wrong.

That evening, Hope sat with Perry on a wooden bench overlooking Stornoway Harbour with a small paper tray of chips. She sat, picking at her food. Beside her, Perry had some battered black pudding, a couple of sausages and chips. Sabine had said she was not eating with Perry, not if he had that sort of food, so it was only Hope and Perry together.

The sun was setting, casting a delightful red across the trees behind the harbour and the water below. Hope glimpsed a seal emerging and then disappearing back down, its grey, slick body almost fading into the water.

‘You ever wonder what it was like being a gigolo?’ asked Perry.

‘What?’ said Hope, almost absent-mindedly.

‘Being a gigolo, I mean—it must be hard work.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, think about it. All these women demanding you to be a certain way, and you have to be when you get paid to do it, don’t you? It’s not like the sort of measured compromise you have in a relationship.’

‘Measured compromise? You and Tanya must have a startling love life,’ said Hope.

‘No, but think about it,’ said Perry.

‘I’d rather not,’ said Hope.

‘Dolaig comes along with an offer of money. He sees it as a good chance. Now he’s running his business, which is not giving him what he wants. He obviously wants somewhere bigger, and he wants better, so he’s chased the money and to do it, he’s had to entertain, so to speak, someone like Dolaig.’

‘He kind of picked badly with her, didn’t he?’

‘Well, it was his first client. Later on, he’s picking out women who are more in need. He’s almost providing a helpful service.’

‘What are you on about, Perry?’

‘He’s providing a helpful service. They’re lacking something, they’re getting a service for it, they’re paying, and it’s quite all convivial, you know? It’s almost like the way a business should be run. Dolaig’s not. Dolaig’s paying money like she’s owning him. For her, he was a gigolo. For the others, well, he’s like some sort of fancy sex worker, isn’t he? Or sex therapist.’

‘That’s probably a very generous comment,’ said Hope. ‘Macleod once said to me, he couldn’t believe what goes on behind doors here.’

‘It’s not the doors here, is it?’ said Perry. ‘The doors are everywhere. None of us knows what anyone else gets up to. Not really. I mean, you for example, I don’t know what you get up to when you go home.’

‘I cuddle a wee guy and change nappies. I try to find time for John. And then generally fall asleep before we can really discuss or talk about anything. Trust me, Perry, it’s not that exciting.’

‘Did you hear?’ said Perry, changing the subject. ‘He’s back.’

‘Who’s back?’ said Hope.

‘The big boss. He was away there. Over in South America. Apparently he’s back. Flew in on a private jet, apparently.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Tanya is good,’ he said, ‘ear to the ground.’

‘What was he doing arriving on a private jet?’

‘Who do you know who can get the big boss a private jet?’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Hope.

‘Well,’ said Perry, ‘Tanya did a bit more digging. Apparently there has been an “incident” out in some South American country. He was accused of carrying out a bombing.’

‘What?’

‘True. Misunderstanding though all cleared up, nothing official except that he’s helped with the case and sorted it all out.’

‘In South America?’ said Hope.

‘Yeah, Guyana.’

Hope shook her head. The chips were going down well and, having talked to Terry Loughman, she reckoned she was going to get back tomorrow. The doctors wanted to keep Ross for a day or two, and Sabine had offered to stay on. Jona was already on the way back, and Hope would fly back tomorrow with Perry.

She watched him bite into the black pudding, and she could understand what Sabine was bothered about. He didn’t so much eat his food as wolf it down. The sheer pleasure and ravenousness about him reminded her of a hungry wolf. Yet, it was healthy. Perry enjoyed his food, but he almost enjoyed it too much.

She’d finished her chips, so she told Perry she’d see him back at the hotel. Walking back, she put her tray carton in a bin and then picked up her phone.

‘Hello,’ said a voice.

‘What were you doing in Guyana?’

‘Little misunderstanding.’ It was Macleod.

‘Are you staying put for a while?’ asked Hope.

‘I don’t think I’m allowed to go anywhere for a bit.’

‘Great, I’m flying back tomorrow. I’ve been on your old stomping ground, coming back from a case that’s had me away for the best part of a week. I’ll be at the airport at two o’clock . Your presence is required.’

‘Why?’ asked Macleod.

‘You’ve been slacking on your duties,’ said Hope. ‘Little Ian needs to see you. Maybe even an overnight stay if you can manage it. If not, late evening.’

‘What’s the rush?’

‘Some things you don’t ask people. Are you able to do it? And the answer will be yes.’

‘Well, I guess the answer is yes then. I think Jane’s available, too.’

‘Two o’clock.’

Hope began to almost skip as she walked along. She’d not tell him. She’d wait.

She slept well that night and after tidying up some odds and ends at the station, Hope joined Perry on the flight from Stornoway to Inverness. As they landed, they made their way out through arrivals, and Perry was slightly stunned to see the number of people waiting. Tanya was there and was the first to rush past everyone, giving Perry an almighty hug and a kiss on the cheek.

‘See you tomorrow, Perry,’ said Hope as Tanya began dragging him off. He gave a little wave to the other party that was there, but Tanya was not hanging around.

Hope saw John. He looked weary. Little Ian was in his arms. Beside him stood Macleod and Jane, arm in arm. Hope walked straight up to John and gave him a deep kiss before taking little Ian off him. She held him, kissed the child, and cuddled him close.

‘You get the bags in,’ said Hope. John nodded, plodded over, and waited for the carousel to turn round. As he did so, there was laughter as Perry came running back in.

‘Nearly forgot these,’ he said as the belt started up. As soon as he saw his bag, he grabbed it and was off.

Meanwhile, John grabbed Hope’s case and brought it to her feet.

‘Right,’ she said, kissing her little boy on the top of the head. ‘You’re going off to see Uncle Seoras and Auntie Jane for a bit. I’ll call you tonight about nine o’clock,’ she said to Seoras. ‘If it’s an emergency, you can get me before then, and I mean an emergency. If not, just take care of him.’

‘We’ve got him,’ said Jane. She took Hope’s hand. ‘You have fun.’

‘Whatever you’re up to,’ said Seoras as Jane rolled her eyes. And then, without ceremony, they walked off. Hope turned back to a startled John.

‘What are you doing?’ he said. ‘You haven’t seen Ian in ages, you haven’t—’

‘Do you know what I want to do?’ said Hope.

John looked at her. She had a mischievous grin on her face. ‘What?’ he said. She whispered something in his ear. ‘Really,’ he said.

‘Really!’ She offered her hand, and he took it.

‘We’ll need a private stretch of beach,’ said John.

‘Oh, trust me,’ said Hope. ‘We’ll find one. This is going to be fun.’

About the Author

GR Jordan is a self-published author who finally decided at forty that in order to have an enjoyable lifestyle, his creative beast within would have to be unleashed. His books mirror that conflict in life where acts of decency contend with self-promotion, goodness stares in horror at evil, and kindness blindsides us when we at our worst. Corrupting our world with his parade of wondrous and horrific characters, he highlights everyday tensions with fresh eyes whilst taking his methodical, intelligent mainstays on a roller-coaster ride of dilemmas, all the while suffering the banter of their provocative sidekicks.

A graduate of Loughborough University where he masqueraded as a chemical engineer but ultimately played American football, Gary had worked at changing the shape of cereal flakes and pulled a pallet truck for a living. Watching vegetables freeze at -40’C was another career highlight and he was also one of the Scottish Highlands “blind” air traffic controllers. These days he has graduated to answering a telephone to people in trouble before telephoning other people to sort it out.

Having flirted with most places in the UK, he is now based in the Isle of Lewis in Scotland where his free time is spent between raising a young family with his wife, writing, figuring out how to work a loom and caring for a small flock of chickens. Luckily, his writing is influenced by his varied work and life experience as the chickens have not been the poetical inspiration he had hoped for!

You can connect with me on:

https://www.grjordan.com

https://facebook.com/carpetlessleprechaun

Subscribe to my newsletter:

https://bit.ly/PatrickSmythe

Also by G R Jordan

G R Jordan writes across multiple genres including crime, dark and action adventure fantasy, feel good fantasy, mystery thriller and horror fantasy. Below is a selection of his work. Whilst all books are available across online stores, signed copies are available at his personal shop.

Run to Death (Highlands & Islands Detective Thrillers #55)

http://a-fwd.com/asin-au=B0HDRBC2YK&asin-uk=B0HDRBC2YK&asin-ca=B0HDRBC2YK&asin-com=B0HDRBC2YK

A repeated tragedy on a long-established run. A suspect list of volunteers and joggers. Can DI Grump find the connection to the past among the egos and rifts of the present?

The recently re-established Aviemore 5 suffers a major setback when, on its second holding, a runner is found dead on the route. With echoes of its horrific past, DI Grump is despatched to investigate the running community of the Highland town. But when he finds previous runners coming back for the present event, he also discovers a bitter feud held deep within the local community.

Remember, it’s a run, not a race, unless you need to be first!

Seoras, They Shot Him! (Seoras Macleod Mysteries #1)

http://a-fwd.com/asin-au=B0G2Y6HBMJ&asin-uk=B0G2Y6HBMJ&asin-ca=B0G2Y6HBMJ&asin-com=B0G2Y6HBMJ

Sun, sea . . . and a mystery thicker than suncream!

When former DCI Seoras Macleod and his bubbly partner Jane set off for a promised fortnight of bliss on a glittering private island—white sand beaches, luxury huts, and endless sunshine—what could possibly go wrong? But paradise curdles when Jane, out on a solitary walk, glimpses an argument on the far side of the island’s restricted compound—and what looks horrifyingly like an execution. Was it a trick of the heat, or something far more sinister?

Retirement was only an excuse to start working together!

Kirsten Stewart Thrillers

http://a-fwd.com/asin-au=B097YQ84S6&asin-uk=B097YQ84S6&asin-ca=B097YQ84S6&asin-com=B097YQ84S6

Join Kirsten Stewart on a shadowy ride through the underbelly of the Highlands of Scotland where among the beauty and splendour of the majestic landscape lies corruption and intrigue to match any city. From murders to extortion, missing children to criminals operating above the law, the Highland former detective must learn a tougher edge to her work as she puts her own life on the line to protect those who cannot defend themselves.

Having left her beloved murder investigation team far behind, Kirsten has to battle personal tragedy and loss while adapting to a whole new way of executing her duties where your mistakes are your own. As Kirsten comes to terms with working with the new team, she often operates as the groups solo field agent, placing herself in danger and trouble to rescue those caught on the dark side of life. With action packed scenes and tense scenarios of murder and greed, the Kirsten Stewart thrillers will have you turning page after page to see your favourite Scottish lass home!

There’s life after Macleod, but a whole new world of death!

Jac’s Revenge (A Jac Moonshine Thriller #1)

http://a-fwd.com/asin-au=B0CDV46NNT&asin-uk=B0CDV46NNT&asin-ca=B0CDV46NNT&asin-com=B0CDV46NNT

An unexpected hit makes Debbie a widow. The attention of her man’s killer spawns a brutal yet classy alter ego. But how far can you play the game before it takes over your life?

All her life, Debbie Parlor lived in her man’s shadow, knowing his work was never truly honest. She turned her head from news stories and rumours. But when he was disposed of for his smile to placate a rival crime lord, Jac Moonshine was born. And when Debbie is paid compensation for her loss like her car was written off, Jac decides that enough is enough.

Get on board with this tongue-in-cheek revenge thriller that will make you question how far you would go to avenge a loved one, and how much you would enjoy it!

A Giant Killing (Siobhan Duffy Mysteries #1)

http://a-fwd.com/asin-au=B0CJ6XLQ19&asin-uk=B0CJ6XLQ19&asin-ca=B0CJ6XLQ19&asin-com=B0CJ6XLQ19

A body lies on the Giant’s boot. Discord, as the master of secrets has been found. Can former spy Siobhan Duffy find the killer before they execute her former colleagues?

When retired operative Siobhan Duffy sees the killing of her former master in the paper, her unease sends her down a path of discovery and fear. Aided by her young housekeeper and scruff of a gardener, Siobhan begins a quest to discover the reason for her spy boss’ death and unravels a can of worms today’s masters would rather keep closed. But in a world of secrets, the difference between revenge and simple, if brutal, housekeeping becomes the hardest truth to know.

The past is a child who never leaves home!