The Chessmen by Peter May Read Free Book Online Page B

out of the various lochs. There is salmon, sea trout and brown trout fishing throughout. In fact, we have more than a hundred lochs for brown trout fishing, though it’s not the brown trout that the poachers are after.’
    He moved his marker across a landscape broken by myriad patches of blue to circle a long body of water that arced from the south to the north, and from west to east. ‘Loch Langabhat. Old Norse for the long loch. It’s about eight miles long. The largest freshwater loch in the Hebrides.’ And there it was, in that single imparting of information,the condescending assumption that he was telling Fin something he wouldn’t know – although it was Fin who had grown up on the island, and not Jamie. ‘We share the fishing rights with another five estates. With proper management we’ve been increasing our average catch there year on year, doubling the take in the last five. These bloody poachers are going to wipe them out. Not just in Langabhat, but across all our water systems. And if they put us out of business, a lot of local people are going to lose their jobs.’
    He straightened up and regarded Fin with speculative brown eyes.
    ‘I’m relying on you, Fin, to find these people and put a stop to it. You’ll have whatever resources you need.’
    To Fin it seemed like a fairly straightforward police investigation. The poaching was not the work of outsiders. These were local people who knew their way around. Someone must know who they were. And it wasn’t just a matter of catching the fish. Others were smoking it. Someone was buying it. There was a supply line leading away from the island to destinations in Europe or further afield, and since freshness was an issue where fish was concerned, it would be leaving by plane rather than boat.
    ‘Well, I don’t see why we can’t wrap this up within a month or two, Mr Wooldridge.’
    ‘Jamie,’ Jamie corrected him.
    Fin nodded. ‘Jamie.’ He didn’t feel comfortable addressing him by his first name. Years in the force had conditioned him to refer to everyone, other than junior ranks, by their surname, or as ‘sir’ or ‘madam’.
    ‘Well, that’s good to hear, Fin. I hope you’re right.’
    The sound of a vehicle pulling up outside drew the attention of an already distracted Kenny, and he crossed to the window of Jamie’s study to look down into the yard below. There were a number of cars already parked outside Suaineabhal Lodge, customers in the bar downstairs, but the new arrival drew up opposite the lodge, at the gate to Kenny’s house. ‘That’s my daughter home from school,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes.’ And he hurried out.
    Jamie seemed annoyed by Kenny’s sudden departure, as if he felt that his estate manager ought to have asked permission to leave the room. He folded up the map and handed it to Fin. ‘Make yourself familiar with this. You’ll need to get to know every square inch.’ He rounded his desk and walked towards the door. ‘Folk think it should be easy enough to catch poachers on an island.’ He opened the door, but hesitated with his hand still on the handle. ‘But the truth is, Fin, this estate encompasses one of the biggest inaccessible areas of wilderness in Scotland. There are large tracts of it you simply can’t reach by road. It’s like stepping back in time. The only way to get around it is on foot, or by boat.’ He drew a breath. ‘I’ll be back in a minute. Then I’ll buy you a drink in the bar and you can meet some of our ghillies.’
    He disappeared off down the hall, and Fin found himself gravitating towards the window, drawn by curiosity, and Fionnlagh’s description of Anna Macaskill, hoping to catch sight of the girl with the tattoos and the face full of metal.
    The sky was overcast, and the light was beginning to go, but he saw her clearly enough standing beneath the treeson the far side of the path. The car which had delivered her to the gate was heading off, back along the