Fraser grabbed hold of his arm as he started towards the bar. ‘You’re not going in there!’
‘What are you going to do? Arrest me?’
He looked at the police sergeant disdainfully. Fraser dropped first his gaze, and then his hand.
‘I’m not having anything to do with this,’ he mumbled.
‘Then don’t,’ Brody said, and walked away.
I went with him, leaving Fraser standing in the hallway. We had to ease through the crush in the bar. People shuffled aside as we went in, the murmur of conversation dying to a pin-drop silence. It was a small enough room to begin with, not meant for this sort of number. Ellen was serving behind the bar, looking flustered. I spotted Cameron, cleaned up and standing by himself in a corner. He’d obviously made it back after coming off his bike, but the look he gave me was no warmer than before. Maggie was there too, standing with a group that included Kinross and Guthrie, a look of anticipation on her face.
But other than that most were people I didn’t recognise. There was no sign of Strachan, although that was hardly surprising. Even if he’d been told about the meeting he wouldn’t have wanted to leave Grace by herself in order to come.
I hoped we wouldn’t need him to calm things down this time.
Brody made his way to the fireplace and calmly surveyed the room.
‘I know you’re all wondering what’s going on,’ he said, his voice carrying without effort. ‘By now I’m sure you’re all aware that Grace Strachan was attacked this afternoon. And most of you will have heard that the police are treating the body found in the old cottage near Beinn Tuiridh as a suspicious death.’
He paused, looking round the room. I noticed that Fraser had come into the bar. He stood in the doorway, listening sullenly.
‘What you don’t know is that some time last night, the police officer who was on duty there was murdered. Whoever killed him also torched the community centre and medical clinic, and almost killed Dr Hunter here as well.’
His words provoked an uproar. Brody raised his hands for quiet, but no one took any notice. There were angry shouts of surprise and protest. I could see Ellen looking nervous behind the bar, and found myself wondering if this was a mistake after all. Then a voice was bellowing above the rest.
‘Quiet, everyone! I said QUIET!’
The clamour died down. It was Kinross who’d shouted. In the silence that followed, the ferry captain stared across at Brody.
‘Are you saying it was somebody from the island? One of us?’
Brody stared back without flinching. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’
There was a rumble of discontent, growing in volume. But it stilled as Kinross made himself heard again.
‘No.’ He shook his head emphatically. ‘No way.’
‘I don’t like it any more than you do. But the fact is that somebody on this island has killed two people and assaulted another.’
Kinross folded his arms. ‘Well, it’s not one of us. If there was a killer here, don’t you think we’d know it?’
There were muttered ‘aye’s and murmurs of agreement. As Brody tried to make himself heard above the rising volume, Maggie squirmed her way to the front. She thrust out her dictaphone, as though this were a press conference.
‘The body that was found at the cottage. Do you know who it is?’
Brody paused. I knew he was making a judgement as to how much he should say.
‘It hasn’t been formally identified yet. But we think it might be a missing prostitute from Stornoway.’
I was watching Cameron as Brody spoke. But if the news meant anything to him he didn’t show it. And now other people were shouting their own questions.
‘What the hell was a tart from Lewis doing out here?’ Karen Tait called out. Her voice was already slurred.
Guthrie grinned. ‘Take a guess.’
No one laughed. The big man’s smirk slowly died. But I was more interested in another reaction. Kinross’s son Kevin had given a start at the mention of the dead woman. His mouth opened in a shocked ‘o’ before he realized I was watching him.
He quickly dropped his gaze.
Everyone else’s attention was still on Brody. ‘The police are going to be sending teams out here as soon as the weather allows. I’ll ask you all to cooperate with them when they arrive. Until then, we need you all to help us out. The cottage is a crime scene now, so please don’t go out there. When Scene of Crime get here, they don’t want to waste time chasing false leads. I know you’re going to be curious, but please keep away from it. And if any of you think you might have any information, you need to tell Sergeant Fraser over there.’
All eyes instinctively went to Fraser. He looked briefly surprised, then straightened almost imperceptibly, squaring his shoulders as he met the stares. It was a clever touch from Brody, a way of handing some self-respect back to Fraser, and reminding the islanders that there already was a police presence on Runa.
I thought the meeting would end there, but Cameron had other ideas. He’d been quiet so far, but now his orator’s voice filled the small room.
‘And meanwhile, are we expected to just sit tight and behave ourselves?’ He stood with his legs planted and his arms folded. He flicked Maggie a look of supercilious distaste as she pointed her tape recorder at him.
‘Unfortunately, there’s not much else we can do until the mainland police get here,’ Brody answered.
‘You tell us there’s a murderer loose on the island, practically accuse one of us, and then calmly tell us to do nothing?’ Cameron gave an incredulous snort. ‘Well, I for one don’t-’
‘Shut up, Bruce,’ Kinross said, without even bothering to look at him.
Cameron’s cheeks coloured. ‘I’m sorry, Iain, but I hardly think-’
‘Nobody here cares what you think.’
‘Well, excuse me, but who are you to…’
Cameron faltered to silence as Kinross’s icy stare swivelled to him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he closed his mouth, swallowing whatever he had been about to say. I almost felt sorry for him. One way and another, the schoolteacher’s pride had taken a battering in recent days.
But no one was taking any notice of him now anyway. People were turning away, subdued conversations springing up again as they discussed what they’d just heard. Maggie lowered her dictaphone and gave me a troubled look before making her way out of the bar.
I looked over to where Kevin Kinross had been standing. But at some point the teenager had slipped away too.
We found an empty table when the bar started to thin out after the meeting. Fraser insisting on buying malts for himself and me and a tomato juice for Brody.
He raised his glass. ‘To Duncan. And to the bastard who killed him, Gonnadh ort!’
‘Oh, he’ll suffer, all right,’ Brody said, softly.
Solemnly, we toasted. Then I told them about Kevin Kinross’s reaction to the news that the murdered woman was a prostitute from Stornoway. Perhaps still smarting from his earlier loss of face, Fraser was dismissive.
‘Could be just excited at the thought of a prossie. A face like that, he’s probably still a virgin.’
‘Worth following up, even so,’ Brody mused. ‘Perhaps we should have a word with him tomorrow, if the support team still aren’t here.’
Fraser looked morosely into his glass. ‘I hope to Christ they are.’
So do I, I thought. So do I.
I made my excuses not long after that. I’d still not eaten, and on an empty stomach the alcohol made me feel light-headed with exhaustion. All at once the events of the past forty-eight hours seemed to catch up with me. I could hardly keep my eyes open.
Ellen was still serving behind the bar as I made my way out, struggling to cope with the unexpected demand. I didn’t think she’d seen me, but then I heard her call as I started up the stairs.
‘David?’ She hurried out of the bar. ‘I’m really sorry, I’ve not had chance to get you anything to eat.’