None but the Dead by Lin Anderson Read Free Book Online

who get it wrong don’t realize that. Orcadians aren’t impressed by people who
think they’re somehow grander than others.’
    Rory had grinned at that. ‘Okay then, we’re equal, but I can guarantee I’m the better cook.’
    And that had proved to be the case. On leave and staying at Erling’s place, Rory always did the cooking. As would be the case tonight, Erling hoped.
    As they drove on to the long pier at the southern tip of the island, they found half a dozen vehicles waiting to board the ferry. Erling had chatted to Derek en route from the
schoolhouse and asked if he’d check out somewhere for Dr MacLeod to stay.
    ‘The hotel doesn’t usually take guests in the winter months, but they might make an exception in the circumstances. Otherwise, I could see if one of the self-catering cottages would
be available. How long would it be for?’
    ‘That depends on the age of the bones. If they’re more recent, then it’s likely to be a murder enquiry which won’t just involve Dr MacLeod,’ Erling told him.
    ‘So we might need space?’
    ‘An MIT, a major investigation team, would appear.’
    Derek nodded. ‘We’ve been here before.’
    That was true.
    There were a lot of words left unsaid in the Ranger’s remark. The community of Sanday had been shaken by a previous murder committed on the island by, it had to be said, incomer on
incomer. Yet it had brought the eyes of the world on this small island and had turned the eyes of the islanders on one another.
    The arriving ferry was discharging its cargo and vehicles, the array of which signified the diversity of island life.
    ‘I’ll contact you once I know when to expect the forensic team,’ Erling said. ‘Can Mike Jones be trusted to leave the grave untouched?’ Erling was aware that had
the find been on the mainland, the site would already be cordoned off and a policeman on duty.
    ‘I’ll check in on him, but I assume you’ll send an officer tomorrow?’
    Erling said he would. There was a chap from Sanday working at the police station in Kirkwall. If he sent him, he could perhaps find accommodation with his family. He would also no doubt gather
information more readily than a stranger. On the other hand, his loyalty might lie with his kith and kin, should it become a murder enquiry.
    Ninety minutes of choppy crossing later, Erling was disembarking at Kirkwall harbour. Dark now, although only just late afternoon, the wind was driving rain across the frontage of the Kirkwall
Hotel, where a few disconsolate oil workers stood around the door, smoking and wondering when they would get back to Flotta, or wherever else they were working.
    Erling had a sudden image of the tarpaulin, and wondered if the six stones he’d loaded it down with would be sufficient. Even the shallow stretch of water that lay beyond the harbour was
frothing in anger. Erling took shelter at the back of the Ayre Hotel and rang the old schoolhouse number.
    ‘Mr Jones? DI Flett here. I hope to have a forensic team out to your place sometime tomorrow depending on the weather. Can you do your best to keep that tarpaulin secure until
then?’
    ‘It’s wild here, but I’ll try.’
    ‘Thanks. I’ll call you when I have word of their arrival.’
    Erling rang off, dipped his head and stepped back out into the wind. The street ahead of him was empty, anyone with any sense staying inside. He began to wonder if Rory had made it back from
Flotta. Depending on the time of day, the crossing might take between eighty minutes and an hour and a half. In bad weather it could take longer – if the ferry had ventured forth at all.
    Erling remembered hitching a lift on a fishing boat to Flotta when a teenager. Stuck in the wheelhouse with the captain, who seemed unconcerned by the giant waves breaking over the boat, Erling
had thought his end was nigh and that he was bound for a watery grave. Tight-lipped, both to control his fear and his heaving stomach, he’d realized in that moment