‘I didn’t ask you what you did for a living,’ said Bannerman, raising his voice to be heard above the sound of the engine and the sea.
‘I’m an artist,’ Shona replied, using her free hand to keep her hair from her eyes.
‘An artist?’
‘Why so surprised?’
‘I suppose I assumed you had some connection with medicine or science,’ said Bannerman.
‘Because of Lawrence,’ said Shona. ‘In a way you’re right. I trained as a physiotherapist before chucking it up to go to art college in Dundee. I met Lawrence when we were both working in a hospital there.’
‘And you had an affair.’
That’s what the world would call it,’ said Shona.
‘What would you call it?’
‘We loved each other, but he was married,’ replied Shona.
‘So why didn’t he leave his wife?’
‘Are you married?’ asked Shona.
‘No.’
‘I didn’t think so, somehow,’ said Shona.
‘What does that mean?’
‘Some things aren’t as simple as other people imagine. Lawrence had two small children and a wife who was entirely dependent on him. He simply married the wrong person. Lots of people do and they don’t all rush off to the divorce courts. People like Lawrence grin and bear it; it’s in their nature.’
‘People like Lawrence?’
‘Nice people, but weak. Lawrence wouldn’t have hurt a sparrow let alone another human being.’
‘Who ended the affair?’
‘I did, but we stayed friends. We write once or twice a year and if he needs a soul mate, he calls me.’
Bannerman nodded. He changed the subject. ‘Can you make a living as an artist?’ he asked.
‘Depends what you call a living,’ smiled Shona. ‘I illustrate children’s books and get the odd commission from Mammon. It’s a bit erratic but it allows me to do what I want to do.’
‘Which is?’
‘To live on the island, paint, take the boat out when I want to, feel the wind, see the sky.’
‘Sounds all right,’ said Bannerman.
‘What about you?’
‘What about me?’
‘Are you doing what you want to do?’
Bannerman found himself caught unawares at the question. ‘I suppose so,’ he said, ‘I’ve never really thought about it.’
‘You should,’ said Shona, steering the boat head on to the shingle beach they were approaching. At the last moment she swung the motor out of the water so that it wouldn’t foul the bottom and waited until the boat had grounded before leaping out into the shallows and pulling on the bow rope. Bannerman got out with a deal less elegance and helped her pull the boat up on to the shore.
‘The cottage is up at the top on the western edge,’ said Shona as they looked up at the cliff towering broodily above them.
The wind, which had been quite strong at ground level, increased as they made their way up the narrow cliff path, and was positively fierce at the top. They kept well away from the edge as they battled up to the cottage to find the back door flapping open and banging against the wall. They entered, discovering the groceries that Gill had brought to the island lying on the floor. They appeared to be untouched. A search of the cottage yielded no signs of Gill or any indication that he had been staying there. Bannerman found some footprints in the grime on the kitchen floor and deduced that more than one person had walked on it recently. ‘I think someone must have been waiting for him when he arrived,’ he said.
‘Maybe they took him back to the mainland,’ suggested Shona.
‘Maybe,’ agreed Bannerman, but the doubt he felt showed in his voice. If Gill had been caught by his pursuers near the top of a cliff … He said that he was going to take a look around outside.
Bannerman crawled up further to the very western edge of the cliff top and looked down. He saw what he had almost expected to see, a man’s broken body lying draped over the rocks below at an unnatural angle because of broken bones. Plumes of spray were breaking over it. Bannerman, who was lying on his stomach, brought his arms round in front of his face and rested his head on them for a moment. There was a hollow feeling in his stomach that he didn’t like at all. He wondered just what he had got himself into.
Bannerman broke the news to Shona in the cottage. She stood before him with moistness in her eyes and an air of beguiling vulnerability. She said, ‘I suppose I knew. As soon as Kirstie told me about the man using Lawrence’s ID and the business of the parcel …’ Her voice trailed off in sadness.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Bannerman, seeing that she was hurting.
Shona took a deep breath and recovered her composure. ‘What now?’ she asked, dabbing her eyes dry.
‘We’ll have to tell the authorities when we get back. They can recover the body and do what they have to do in such cases.’
Neither of them spoke much on the trip back to North Uist but just before they entered the harbour at Ralsay, Shona said, ‘You will make sure his wife knows that he did not run away to be with me won’t you?’
Bannerman agreed that he would.
Shona tied up the boat and they both climbed up onto the harbour wall. She looked at her watch and said, ‘You’re too late to get back to the mainland.’
‘One more night at Mrs Ferguson’s,’ said Bannerman, inwardly cringing at the thought of more bacon and egg.
‘Stay at my place,’ said Shona.
‘Won’t that give the neighbours cause to talk?’ asked Bannerman.
‘Yes,’ said Shona.
‘I think we could both do with a drink,’ said Shona as she closed the door of the white house and shut out the sound of the sea. ‘Whisky?’
‘Please.’
‘And then we’ll call the police?’
Bannerman hesitated with his response.
‘We won’t call the police?’ asked Shona.
‘I’d prefer it if you were to call the police … tomorrow, after I’ve left,’ said Bannerman. ‘My being here isn’t going to help and I have a job to do.’
‘What exactly is this job?’ asked Shona. ‘Do you know why Lawrence was killed?’
‘I genuinely don’t,’ said Bannerman. ‘But it has something to do with the deaths of three men up in Achnagelloch. Gill was looking into the cause of death and I think he must have found out something that certain people didn’t want him talking about.’
‘And it was worth killing him for?’
‘Apparently,’ shrugged Bannerman.
‘What was special about the deaths? How did these men die?’ asked Shona.
‘They died of brain disease.’
There’s more to it, isn’t there?’ said Shona.
‘What do you mean?’
There’s something you’re not telling me,’ said Shona.
Bannerman looked down at his feet, then confessed, There is a bit more, not that it helps in understanding why Lawrence Gill was killed.’
‘Will you tell me anyway?’ asked Shona.
Bannerman nodded. He said, ‘Have you ever heard of a disease called Scrapie?’
Shona shook her head.
‘It’s a disease of sheep, a brain disease. It’s been around for a long time but we thought it only affected sheep, so nobody paid it that much attention, until fairly recently.’
‘What happened?’
The disease crossed what we thought was a species barrier. It caused a condition in cattle called Bovine Spongioform Encephalopathy.’
‘Mad Cow Disease?’ said Shona.
‘Yes. It turned out that there was no species barrier between sheep and cows after all.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Shona.
‘We think that the three men up in Achnagelloch died of Scrapie.’
‘It crossed to humans?’ exclaimed Shona.
‘Yes, and we have to find out how and why.’
‘I see,’ said Shona. ‘Thank you for telling me.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t tell all your friends,’ said Bannerman.
Shona gave a slight smile and nodded. ‘Will you be going back to Edinburgh now?’ she asked.
‘No, Achnagelloch.’
‘But won’t you be in danger too?’ asked Shona.