The addition of the modern sports jacket made the taut, stained skin and perfectly preserved expression of the face seem grotesque.
Dani Bevan picked up one of the shots to examine it more closely. “I think this photo gives the best representation of the features. I suggest we use it for the press release.”
Peyton sighed. “As soon as word gets out that there’s been another body found on the island, we’re going to get all sorts of media speculation about serial killers and the like.”
“It can’t be helped.” Dani put the glossy print back into its Perspex sleeve. “The techies are struggling to lift any DNA. We’re only managing to date the victim by the jacket he was wearing. Apparently, Adidas released that limited-edition jacket in early 2008. It was on sale for six months in most sports stores across the UK. So, we know that he must have been buried after that time. But if our victim picked the jacket up in a charity shop, he could have been buried there as early as last week.”
Peyton rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “Yes, but the grasses had grown over the top of the soil. It must take several months for that process of mummification to take place, surely?”
“The tech lab is co-ordinating with a forensic pathologist to get a better idea about that. Without solid bone mass, the PM couldn’t determine a cause of death, but the pathologist felt that the skin displayed patches of damage, which he was convinced must have been caused by severe bruising.”
“Where was the bruising most pronounced?”
“Around the wrists and ankles, as well as across the stomach.”
“As if he had been bound and then hit repeatedly in the midriff. Whilst sitting at a chair, maybe?”
“Exactly, the kind of scenario we’d expect with a gangland interrogation or punishment.”
Peyton narrowed his eyes. “I know I’m just a Highland bumpkin, but don’t those types of crime tend to occur more commonly in the cities – not out here on the Small Isles?”
Dani nodded. “Quite right. If we found these wounds on a body in a warehouse in Glasgow, it would all make perfect sense.”
Peyton sighed. “We’re looking for a man who would have gone missing sometime after 2008? That doesn’t narrow things down much.”
“He was roughly 5’10” tall, the pathologist believes he was likely to be under 35 years old and of slim build.”
“The jacket makes me imagine someone young,” Peyton commented, “as does the face, but I’m not sure why.”
“I’d say only a person in their late teens to early twenties would wear a jacket like that, but it’s pure speculation. The jacket was widely available across the UK, but the main stockists were in the major cities – London, Manchester, Birmingham and Glasgow.”
“He could have lived in Glasgow then, like Juliet Lowther had?”
Dani could tell Peyton was desperate to identify a connection of some kind, to move the investigation forward. “Yes, and his remains being found here in Scotland make that more likely, but again, we have no solid evidence to support it.”
“Then we need to get that photograph out in the press as soon as. With any luck, there’s a family out there somewhere who will recognise their lost son, or brother, or cousin.”
Dani fingered the edge of the pack of pictures once more. “I certainly hope so.”
*
The lounge bar of the Gordon Hotel was as busy as Andy had ever seen it. A group of thick-set men in cable-knit sweaters were crowded around the bar area. The tables were filled with smartly dressed individuals, drinking coffee, and whom Andy immediately recognised as plain-clothed detectives. Alice was seated at one of the tables with them, deep in conversation.
The table he headed for was the one where Joy and Bill were sharing a pot of tea and scones, an incongruous sight amongst all the police activity.
“Sergeant Calder, please come and join us. I’ll send for an extra cup.” Bill pulled out a chair.
Andy sat down. “I hope you both got a decent night’s sleep?”
“Oh, aye. The hotel is very comfortable.”
But Joy looked unsure. “I’ve been worrying about the island, Sergeant. Will the place be overrun with diggers – churning up the earth to search for,” she lowered her voice dramatically, “dead bodies?”
Andy smiled. “The technology is a bit more sophisticated these days.” He dipped his head towards the group at the bar. “Those chaps are forensic geologists from the University of Edinburgh. For starters, they will examine satellite images of Ghiant to identify any variations in the surface which might indicate a burial site.”
“The ground on Ghiant must be full of dips and troughs, won’t this be an impossible task?” Bill shuffled forward in his seat.
“Apparently, these features look different from a natural change in the topography. Those guys are trained to spot the difference.” One of the waiters handed Andy a cup which he filled from the pot. “Once they’ve located potential burial places, they can take the sniffer dogs over to examine the sites.”
“Is that a fail-safe way of finding remains?” Bill looked sceptical.
“Most graves of the criminal variety are fairly shallow. The dogs have a ninety-nine percent success rate in trials. If we really want to be sure, DI Peyton could bring in ground penetrating radar. But that’s going to cost us big.”
“And if they find anything, that’s when the digging will start?” Joy clutched her teacup tightly.
Andy nodded. “Yup, but there’s no reason to imagine there will be more bodies. This is a precautionary exercise. There’s no proper ferry service to Ghiant. We’d probably have to use a navy cruiser to transport the equipment over.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“The survey guys were telling me they sometimes use drones to photograph the area, that can be more accurate than the satellite images.”
“It’s marvellous, really,” Joy seemed relieved. “I thought the island would be destroyed.”
“You mustn’t worry about that, Joy. Imagine the archaeological digs that take place in the most picturesque of locations. They re-fill the soil afterwards and you’d never know they’d been there.”
Bill sighed. “Yes, but the police don’t have such a strong reputation for making good after an investigation. Ghiant is an abandoned island. We worried that there would be no one left who would care what state it was left in. Out of sight, out of mind.”
“You and Joy care,” Andy put in. “The ecological brigade will care too. So, you must stop worrying yourselves about it. Wouldn’t it be best if you both went home for a bit? I’ll keep you updated on what’s happening here. Get Louise and the boys to come and stay, keep you busy.”
Joy gazed at him in surprise. “Oh, no, Sergeant Calder, we couldn’t do that. Not when it’s just starting to get so interesting here.”
Chapter 20
Charles Lowther had requested another meeting with DI Peyton. The SIO decided that Dani should be present when he spoke with the man. The two of them had known Juliet reasonably well, he still hoped to shake out some more information about her life.
Peyton’s office was too small, so they had commandeered the bay window of the Gordon Hotel, most of the officers now being busy over on Ghiant or at the team headquarters in the town hall.
Dani was surprised by how large Charles Lowther was. Juliet had been taller than average herself, and of a muscular build, but her brother’s stature consisted mostly of body fat, his face slightly puffy and flushed, despite the deep tan. The resemblance was still there, though.
“I was about to book my flight home. Then I read about this other body turning up.” Lowther fished a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. It was the front page of the previous day’s Herald. “Why didn’t I hear about this straight from you, DI Peyton?”
“To be honest with you, Mr Lowther, I thought you would have returned to the U.S. by now. We are still in the process of identifying the man whose body was discovered in the peat
. There is no evidence that his death is related to your sister’s murder in any way.”
Lowther looked incredulous. “Are you kidding me? According to this article, Juliet’s body was found just metres from where this kid was buried. How can that be unrelated?”
Dani leant forward. “The body in the peat had clearly been there for a significant period-of-time. What happened to him may have nothing to do with the killing of Juliet. Ghiant is remote, it has a long history, we can’t jump to any conclusions.”
The man’s tone softened. “If we were talking about downtown LA, here, I might be able to agree with you, DCI Bevan. But I’ve not been away from Scotland for so long that I don’t realise finding two bodies on a wee western island is pretty damned unusual.”
Peyton nodded. “Okay, we don’t want to patronise you, sir. We are certainly working on the assumption that there may be some kind of connection. As yet, that link is not clear.”
Charles dragged a hand through his greyish hair. “Look, I didn’t intend to be an asshole about this. It’s just that my wife wants me to come home straight away, but I feel like I need to stay here to follow the case – like I’d be letting Juliet down if I didn’t. This discovery makes it feel like we’re even further from the truth.”
“Every new discovery brings us closer to finding out what happened to your sister,” Dani explained. “Even if it appears baffling at first. But I see no harm in you returning home. I promise we will keep you up-to-date with developments.”
Charles looked more closely at Dani. “You were the detective that worked with Juliet down in Glasgow. Did we meet back then?”
She nodded. “We did once. You had come over to visit your mother. Juliet met up with you at the department, she introduced us.”
“Yeah, I remember. I expect we both looked pretty different then.” He patted his stomach, as if to illustrate what had changed most about him. “You had shorter hair.” He sighed. “I didn’t visit my Mom enough back then, or Juliet for that matter.”
“I took a trip to your mother’s nursing home. I’ve been trying to piece together Juliet’s life after she left the police force. I did wonder why she didn’t take your mother to live with her when she retired. It would seem to have made more sense than traipsing down from Fort William to see her.”
Charles’ expression was sad. “I can hardly criticise Juliet for leaving Mom at the rest home. I was thousands of miles away. But I was surprised that Juliet didn’t buy a place for them both when she moved north. It was what she always said she’d do.”
“Perhaps Gail’s Alzheimer’s was what put Juliet off. The manager of the care home seemed to think this was the reason?”
Charles crinkled his brow, as if the idea disturbed him. “One thing you could always say about Jules, she never shirked her responsibilities. She’d dealt with far worse shit than a case of senile dementia. I can’t see that being the reason.”
Dani wasn’t sure if it was possible to be so certain of how anyone would respond when faced with the reality of their parent’s decline. But she did recognise Charles’s assessment of Juliet’s character. “Did your sister ever mention a boyfriend back then – another member of her team, perhaps?”
Charles nodded. “There was a guy, it was serious for a while, then it seemed to fizzle out. I told DI Peyton about it. He came out for dinner a couple of times.”
Dani fished in her bag and brought out an old photo of Kerr Travis, that she’d printed off the police database. “Was this him? Tall, dark, reasonably handsome?”
Charles looked at the image closely, before shaking his head. “That isn’t the guy. He wasn’t as good looking as that. His hair was kinda sandy coloured. His nose was a bit crooked.”
“Okay,” Dani said evenly. “Thanks for the information.” She sat back in her seat and allowed Peyton to run through the current status of the investigation with Lowther.
Somehow, the man’s dismissal of Kerr as Juliet’s lover didn’t surprise Dani. She’d felt certain at the time that Mrs Travis had that detail quite wrong.
*
They stood on the harbour wall and watched as the police launch powered through the choppy waves. Three of the forensic anthropology team were on board.
Peyton leant down to catch the rope as the launch pulled up beside the quay. Andy put out his hand to help the men climb ashore. The wind had picked up and their hair was blowing about their grubby faces. Dani could tell that these men had been digging in the Ghiant soil.
“Anything to report?” Peyton asked the lead scientist eagerly.
The man put a hand up to his floppy fringe and kept it there, so he could secure the unruly mop of brown curls out of his eyes. “On the satellite image we identified an area with unusual surface patterns. It’s to the north-east of the island. I can supply you with the GPS coordinates.”
Peyton nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“We took some preliminary equipment over to check it out. We use a soil probe that can penetrate a couple of metres deep. We can run some basic tests at the site. It gives us a good idea of what chemical matter lies beneath.” He took a breath. “There are definitely more bodies out there, DI Peyton.”
Dani felt her heart sink. She desperately hoped they weren’t going to be faced with the prospect of a serial offender on the loose.
The man’s expression softened, becoming almost playful. “But their fate will not be the concern of the police.”
Peyton screwed up his face in puzzlement.
“We dug up a couple of the grave sites and took a look at their contents. It’s actually a very significant find. The bodies are extremely well preserved for their age. We even bagged up some artefacts that had been placed amongst them.”
“Their age?” Calder interrupted, becoming impatient with this young, academic type.
“Yes,” the man replied. “The site clearly represents an important Viking burial ground. Those bodies are without doubt more than 1,000 years old.”
Chapter 21
The trestle table, set up in the Nabb town hall, held the meagre selection of artefacts the anthropology team brought back from Ghiant.
Dani recognised what looked like crudely carved bronze knives, along with a small cup sporting some kind of decoration on the side. They were all wrapped in evidence bags and surrounded by flakes of the peaty soil which had enclosed them for more than a millennium.
DI Peyton opened his arms in an expansive gesture. “As fascinating as these objects may be, they have nothing to do with our criminal investigation. The Viking burial site has been cordoned off and experts from Edinburgh University will be invited to perform a full excavation of the area once our interest in the island had ceased.”
“Are we absolutely confident there were no more recent burials on the island?” Alice enquired.
“As confident as the scientists can be. They took sniffer dogs over every inch of its surface. Apart from the two bodies we’ve already recovered, they found nothing contemporary. On the recommendation of the anthropology team, I’ve called off the search.”
“What about the photograph of our dead body in the peat – any response to the press coverage?” Andy was keen to focus back on their present-day case.
“I’ve been on the phone to the Fort William team this morning. There’s been the usual stream of phone-calls from folk claiming this man might be their long-lost relative. We’ve got to follow each one up to see if the dates and descriptions match. I’ve asked my opposite number to send over some names so we can help with the investigative work. It’s a case of trawling through the databases I’m afraid, there have been dozens of calls. But it’s the only way to identify our man.”
“I’m happy to assist with that,” Alice piped up.
“Good. Then DI Mann will liaise with HQ and assign your tasks.”
*
Bill and Joy were waiting by the harbour master’s office. They were both sporting padded jackets to protect them from the bitter easterly bree
ze which was causing the metal clips holding up the sails on the boats in the quay to jangle like chattering teeth.
Dani and Andy approached the couple from the direction of the town hall.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet us,” Bill gushed, his cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t clear whether this was from the cold or excitement.
“The team of scientists returned from Ghiant this afternoon,” Dani began.
“Yes, we saw their boat from the hotel,” Joy added.
“All they found on the island was an ancient Norse burial site. The archaeologists will be allowed in when the police have released the area.” Dani reached out to lay her hand on Joy’s arm. “There are no more victims over there to worry about.”
Bill furrowed his brow. “Do they know from what era the burial site originates?”
“The team leader said they’d have to run some carbon-dating tests back in Edinburgh,” Andy replied brusquely. “But that really isn’t our problem.”
“Fascinating, I wonder if this find will prove as old as the Viking discovery in Ardnamurchan. This is most exciting. The Vikings almost certainly would have travelled between the Small Isles by boat. I suppose it is inevitable there would have been an ancient settlement on Ghiant.”
“Great,” Andy commented dryly. “But we haven’t just stepped into an Indiana Jones film. Dani and I have got two active murder investigations to return to.”
“Oh, of course,” Joy replied. “But there may still be a connection between this discovery and your current cases.”
“I really don’t see how,” Andy tried to keep his tone sounding tolerant.
Joy gestured in the direction of Ghiant, its profile presently concealed by a band of low-lying steel grey cloud. “The Isle is clearly an important, deeply spiritual environment. If the ancient civilisations were using Ghiant as a burial place for their citizens, we must assume they understood its significance too.”
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