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The Lethal Target(15)

By:Jim Eldridge


Despite her appeal, within minutes, Alec MacClain and Robbie had arrived in a battered old Land Rover. They hurried to the body of Dougie, and the despair was evident on their faces as they looked at him. Robbie, especially, was deathly white. Desperately, Alec searched for any sign of life, feeling for pulses on Dougie’s neck and wrists, leaning close to check for any hint of breath; but it was all too obvious that life had gone.

Shortly afterwards, a search and rescue helicopter was seen approaching, and it settled down on the shore. Paramedics jumped out and rushed to Dougie, but the sense of urgent action faded as they realised he was dead. They took Dougie’s body to the helicopter, muttered a few words to Alec, and then flew off.

The arrival of the police took a little longer. Alec told Lauren and Jake that a uniformed constable was on his way from the local station at Craignure. More police would be coming over from Oban by boat, but they would be delayed until the tide was high enough for them to be able to land.

Jake and Lauren climbed into the cab of the Land Rover, next to Alec, while Robbie climbed into the open back, and they headed back to the guest house.

As the Land Rover drew to a halt at the back of the guest house, Jeannie and Rona came hurrying out. Both had obviously been crying. Jeannie and Rona threw themselves into Alec’s arms, and he hugged them to him. Robbie stayed in the back of the vehicle, his face white and shocked.

‘We need to give them some space,’ whispered Lauren.

Jake nodded, and they went up to their room.

‘What do you think?’ asked Jake once they were inside their own room. ‘An accident, or was he killed?’

‘Who would want to kill him?’ asked Lauren.

‘Where the books are involved, people are always dying,’ said Jake. ‘You and I both thought he may have been a Watcher. The Watchers’ job is to protect the books, stop them being discovered. Maybe he tried to stop this book being found, and was killed.’

‘The Russians?’

Jake shrugged.

‘Right now, I can’t think of anyone else,’ he said. ‘They’re the ones looking for the book.’

‘What about Muir?’ asked Lauren. ‘We saw him acting suspiciously in that area.’

‘Maybe,’ agreed Jake. ‘But what reason would he have for killing Dougie?’

‘The book,’ said Lauren. ‘It’s always about the books.’



A sergeant and a constable arrived by boat from the mainland an hour and a half after Dougie’s body had been flown away. They joined the local constable from Craignure in the lounge of the guest house, which had been set up as the base for their investigation. The first people they wanted to talk to were Jake and Lauren.

‘We’ll see you one at a time, if you don’t mind,’ the sergeant told them. He nodded at Jake. ‘We’ll start with you first, sir.’

They want to question us separately and see if our stories match up, Jake thought.

Jake told the sergeant and the constable what he’d seen. Not that there was much to say, just that they’d been walking along the cliff and they’d spotted the body of Dougie MacClain lying at the bottom of it. There then followed questions about Jake himself. Why had he come to Mull? Jake and Lauren had already rehearsed their answers should these kind of questions come up: they were old friends meeting up on Mull for a holiday, once ‘Helen Cooper’ had decided to come to England from her home in New Zealand.

‘What were you doing when you found Mr MacClain’s body?’

‘Just walking. Exploring the island.’

‘Did you see anyone else in the area?’

‘Not on the shore,’ said Jake. ‘The Russians were in their enclosure, doing their dig, at the top of the cliff.’

‘Anyone else?’

‘The American who’s staying here,’ said Jake. ‘Mr Muir. We saw him.’

‘On the shore?’

‘No,’ said Jake. ‘I just said, we didn’t see anyone else on the shore.’

‘So where did you see Mr Muir?’

‘Near the cottage where the Russians are staying.’

The sergeant looked at him quizzically.

‘How come you know the Russians are staying there, sir?’ he said. ‘Do you have an interest in these Russians?’

Jake shook his head.

‘It’s a small island,’ he said. ‘Everyone seems to know who everyone else is. I thought it was easier than saying “In the cottage with the green door near the cliff edge”. That could mean a lot of different cottages.’

The sergeant studied Jake thoughtfully.

‘How do you know that cottage has got a green door, sir?’ he asked. ‘Have you been keeping a special eye on it?’