The Lethal Target(14)

‘Tourists interested in archaeology,’ pointed out Lauren. ‘Anyway, I thought we’d just give it a glance today, and go and check out the cottage where the Russians are staying.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Jake.

Actually, he was happy to agree with anything that Lauren suggested. All right, they were here on a mission: to find the book. Or, to stop the Russians finding it. But the main thing for Jake was that they were together. Not stuttering images on a Skype window, or disembodied voices echoing down a telephone line, but holding hands, touching, looking at each other in the face and smiling and being close to one another.

They walked along the track that took them past the Russians’ site, slowing down as they passed to see what was going on, whether there was any sense of excitement about the people working; but it was all as it had been the previous day: people digging, others in holes, using small trowels and brushes to scrape away earth, and the tall figure of Professor Lemski moving around, overseeing operations.

They followed the path for about another half a mile and reached a cliff top overlooking the loch. Here, the path separated, going in both directions along the edge. The path to the right would take them past a cottage and a few outbuildings.

‘That’s where the Russians are staying,’ murmured Lauren.

‘Then I think a stroll along the cliff path in that direction is what we need,’ said Jake.

They set off. A low wire fence ran along the edge of the path, keeping people away from the cliff. The cottage where the Russian party was staying seemed quiet, but as they neared it Jake could make out people in the courtyard at the back of the cottage, and in some of the outbuildings. They looked up as Jake and Lauren walked by, and although he and she both smiled and waved at them, they gave no greeting back; just watched the pair suspiciously.

A movement on the marsh about a quarter of a mile inland suddenly caught Jake’s eye.

‘See that?’ he said, stopping and looking.

‘Keep moving,’ urged Lauren. ‘We don’t want them to get suspicious.’

‘They’re already suspicious,’ said Jake. ‘Just look at the expressions on their faces. It’s like they’re expecting us to break in.’

‘That’s understandable,’ said Lauren. ‘After all, that’s what we plan to do if they find it.’

‘True,’ admitted Jake.

They walked on, past the cottage and the outbuildings, until they rounded a bend and were out of sight.

‘OK, we can stop now,’ said Lauren. ‘What did you see?’

‘It looked like our friend Mr Ian Muir,’ said Jake. ‘I’m sure it was him heading across the marsh, away from the Russians’ cottage.’

‘And yesterday he was sneaking away from the dig,’ added Lauren.

Jake stepped towards the fence and the cliff edge. He looked down towards the shore, looking out for the otters that Lauren had talked about, hoping to see them in the water. Instead, he saw something else that made him jerk back, alarmed.

‘What’s up?’ asked Lauren.

‘There’s someone down there,’ said Jake. ‘And they look like they’re hurt.’

Lauren went to the edge and peered down. A man was lying face down on the rocks below, arms spread out. He was wearing an old overcoat and rubber boots, and he wasn’t moving.

‘Which is the quickest way down from here?’ asked Jake.

‘This way,’ said Lauren. She was already heading towards a gap in some bushes. Jake hurried after her, and they half climbed, half stumbled down a steep and rocky path that twisted and turned down the cliff. They reached the shore. On this side of the headland the beach was rocky rather than sand and shingle, and they hurried over the rocks towards the prone man, slipping as they went. As they got near him they saw the blood on the back of his skull. Jake felt a lurch of recognition as they got closer; the coat looked like the one Dougie MacClain had been wearing when they’d met him with Robbie the previous day.

They reached the man. His head was turned to one side. His eyes and mouth were open. It was Dougie MacClain all right, with blood matting his hair, and the flash of bone where his smashed skull was visible through the mess. Even before they tested for a pulse, they knew it was no good. He was dead.





Chapter 10



It’s odd, thought Jake. Everything here on the island either happens at once, or it takes for ever. Lauren got a signal on her mobile and phoned the MacClains at the guest house and told them there had been a serious accident involving Dougie MacClain. She stressed that it was very serious, and advised against allowing either Robbie or Rona to come.