Minutes later, DC Penny Faversham parked her three-door Mini Hatch in the available space in front of the clock tower as she had been instructed to do in Torquil’s email. She switched off the engine, yawned and stretched her long legs as she prepared to wait for her new boss to come to meet her. She hadn’t met the West Uist Inspector before, but had heard about him from Detective Superintendent Ross when she reported to Stornoway Police Station.
‘He’s used to running his own show over on West Uist,’ he had told Penny in typical detective manner, as if he was giving a rundown on a suspect. ‘He’s into motorbikes, classic ones. Lives with his uncle, known as the Padre. Torquil is sometimes called Piper by his friends, on account of his being a champion bagpiper. He’s a good copper, though you wouldn’t know it from Superintendent Lumsden in the uniforms. He hates him with a passion, so it’s as well that he was moved to the detective branch, which is where he started in Dundee.’
‘A bit of a maverick, is he, sir?’ Penny had asked.
He had shrugged non-committedly. ‘He’s an islander, so maybe that makes him a natural rebel. His fiancée, Lorna Golspie, is a sergeant in uniforms. You might have a chat with her. She’ll give you the lowdown about the island.’
Which she did. Apart from making it abundantly clear in the nicest and most subtle manner possible that Torquil McKinnon was out of bounds, Sergeant Lorna Golspie had given Penny a complete outline of what to expect on West Uist. Lorna painted an attractive prospect, although she left Penny in no doubt about the weather.
‘It’s misty, rainy and windy,’ she had told Penny. ‘There isn’t the traffic, the noise or the commotion. You might get bored after the big city life of Leeds.’
Despite all that, Penny was really looking forward to it. The mist that had surrounded the ferry for the last couple of hours had started to lift and what she could see of Kyleshiffin she liked already. She thought Harbour Street could be a picture postcard with its sea wall and harbour, its crescent of differently coloured shop-fronts and businesses, its old town clock and the big red spherical Second World War mine at the top of the steps leading down to the quay. Blessed with good eyesight, even at this distance she read that this relic of war had been converted into a collection box for the Shipwrecked Fishermen and Mariners Royal Benevolent Society.
The word ‘shipwrecked’ resonated with her. Although she had much to be thankful about in her career as a detective constable in Leeds, her relationship with Barry Winder-Thompson had almost literally been a shipwreck. A Royal Navy officer, he had spent six months to nine months at sea during every one of their three years together. With her own busy life she had thought they could cope with that. What she had not expected was to discover that he, a warfare officer, had been sleeping with the ship’s medic. Apparently, she had not been the first of his conquests. Not so much a case of a girl in every port as one onboard as well.
Bastard!
Penny had wanted nothing more than to get away from Leeds with all its memories of his shore leaves and of his infidelity. When the opportunity of a job came up in the remotest place she could think of, she applied and was appointed. She had upped anchor and headed north by north west, first to Stornoway for a briefing and then to West Uist.
Wildlife — one of her passions —, plenty of fresh air, and time to lick her wounds and reflect, that’s what Penny craved.
The Laird o’ the Isles ferry had completed its function and loaded up with vans, lorries and a few cars, then manoeuvred out of the harbour heading out to open sea again. But still there was no sign of DI Torquil McKinnon.
A couple of men came up the steps from the quayside. Both were wearing caps, one dressed in a Macbeth ferries uniform and the other, an older man in a brown shop-coat, was carrying a briefcase. Penny got out of her car and crossed the road.
‘Excuse me, I’m expecting a Detective Inspector McKinnon to meet me,’ she said.
‘Oh, it’s Piper you want, is it? I’m Tam MacOnachie, the harbour master, and this is Willie Armstrong, the Macbeth representative.’
‘And I’m also the local butcher,’ Willie volunteered.
Penny smiled at them. She guessed that things happened at a snail’s pace on the island and she had no problem with that. ‘Is the police station nearby? I think he must have been held up.’
Tam MacOnachie clicked his tongue. ‘He could be. I’m thinking we may have had one emergency already this morning.’
‘A police matter?’ Penny asked.
Tam shook his head doubtfully. ‘More a postal problem.’
He gave her directions to Lady’s Wynd and she duly returned to her car and got in.
‘A postal problem is considered an emergency here?’ she mused to herself with a satisfied smile. ‘I think the pace of life on West Uist is going to suit me very well.’
Doctor Ralph McLelland was one of Torquil’s oldest friends. He was the third generation of his family to minister to the local people of West Uist. After reading Medicine at Glasgow University he had embarked upon a career in forensic medicine, having gained a diploma in medical jurisprudence as well as the first part of his membership of the Royal College of Pathologists. His father’s terminal illness had drawn him back to the island to take over the practice, which he had then run single-handedly for seven years. In that time, he gained his full pathology qualification, which along with his role as the police surgeon enabled him to perform occasional post-mortem examinations at the hospital. That, and all of the other tasks that fell to an island GP, like delivering babies and performing minor surgery, kept him busy most of the time.
Ralph had been about to start his morning surgery at the hospital when Torquil’s call came in and he had to announce to the waiting room that he had to go, offering first to see anyone whose condition could not wait. Fortunately no one needed his immediate ministrations.
He was waiting with Lizzie Lamb, the charge nurse in charge of the hospital in the accident and emergency room, which doubled as their admitting unit. With her staff of two others Lizzie was kept busy. Indeed, no matter how many patients they had under her care, she was always busy. She could have six extremely ill patients in the hospital and beetle about, coping admirably, or just one and be run off her feet. But patient care never suffered or was in any way compromised. She just liked her patients to appreciate that the nursing life was a busy one. What everyone knew was that she was dependable and would be there for her patients no matter what.
Both Sister Lamb and Ralph McLelland knew Catriona McDonald and her divorced parents, Councillor Charlie and Bridget McDonald very well.
Catriona was a good kid in year S5 at Kyleshiffin Community Academy, as the Kyleshiffin School was now named. She was always smiling and much given to changing her hair colour. She was in her Highers year and wanted to be a nurse, so had actually done work experience at the hospital, both on the wards and shadowing Ralph in the odd surgery. It was a shock to see her in the state brought in by Stan Wilkinson.
When Calum Steele and Cora Melville came rushing in shortly after them, Sister Lamb had adroitly side-lined them with her stock, ‘We’re unable to comment until the patient has been assessed by the doctor and permission to speak to the press has been given.’
Like Torquil, Calum was one of Ralph’s oldest friends. Indeed, as boys they had imagined themselves to be like the Three Musketeers when they were attending the Kyleshiffin School under Miss Bella Melville’s watchful eye. Then they had grown up and gone their separate ways; Torquil to study law and become a police officer, Ralph to study medicine and Calum to throw himself into journalism. As a kid Calum had been nosy and persistent, but as a newspaperman he had the tenacity of a bulldog and the guile of a fox.