‘And try and get their hands on the book,’ mused Jake.
Lauren nodded.
‘Well, I guess that’s the answer to why things happened to me when I tried to come up here,’ said Jake.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Lauren.
‘I got warned off. And then attacked, at Euston, just as I was about to get on my train.’ He shuddered at the all-too-recent memory. ‘They tried to stab me, but luckily their knife got my bag instead.’
Lauren stared at him, horrified.
‘Who were they?’ she asked.
Jake shrugged.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But obviously someone didn’t want me joining in the fun.’
‘How did they know?’
‘That’s easy,’ said Jake. ‘They eavesdrop. They know everything.’ He grinned. ‘Except the fact that Lauren Graham is back and pretending to be Helen Cooper.’
‘Yes, and, like I said, we need to keep it that way,’ said Lauren.
Then a worrying thought struck Jake.
‘With all these different interested parties here, you don’t think one of them might recognise you?’
‘Blonde hair? Helen Cooper? I hope not,’ said Lauren. ‘I’m hoping their attention will be on the Russians.’
‘OK,’ said Jake. ‘But if we manage to get hold of this book, then all attention is going to switch to us. We need an escape plan to get us off this island at speed.’
‘I know,’ said Lauren.
‘Have you got one?’ asked Jake.
‘No,’ admitted Lauren. ‘But I’m working on it.’
Chapter 6
At breakfast the next morning, Jake and Lauren, and the two birdwatchers, Pam and John Gordon, were the only ones in the dining room. The American, Ian Muir, had apparently already had his breakfast and left.
‘He says he likes to be out there before anyone else,’ Lauren said. ‘The early bird catches the worm, that sort of thing. He says all the best things in nature happen around dawn.’
‘Or, he gets a chance to watch the Russians before anyone else is in action,’ murmured Jake.
‘That’s my guess,’ said Lauren.
‘If he is CIA, I can’t imagine him working alone,’ said Jake.
‘I thought of that. He must have a contact somewhere else nearby,’ agreed Lauren. ‘We’ll be passing the cottages I told you about on the way to the dig site. His contact could be there.’
‘So why isn’t he with them?’ asked Jake.
Lauren shrugged.
‘Maybe they’ve got people in different places all over the island, watching what’s going on. Staying close to the opposition,’ she suggested.
‘Keeping an eye on another pair of prime suspects?’ whispered Jake, and he turned and smiled at Pam and John Gordon, who were sitting at a table at the far side of the dining room. The couple smiled back.
‘Lovely day for going out walking!’ called Pam Gordon.
‘It certainly is!’ Lauren said.
Before they could embark on a long conversation, Jeannie MacClain appeared by their table, notepad at the ready.
‘Are you ready to order?’ she asked.
They gave her their orders: a full Scots for Jake, and cereal followed by kippers for Lauren.
‘Excellent!’ Their hostess beamed. ‘My daughter Rona’s helping me in the kitchen today. A full breakfast will give her something to keep her busy.’
‘Mr and Mrs MacClain have run this guest house for twenty years,’ said Lauren.
‘It’s a beautiful place,’ said Jake. ‘But it must be lonely for you out of season.’
‘No, there’s always something to do,’ said Jeannie. ‘Repairs, renovation, decorating. Making sure we’ve got enough fuel for the winter months. And there are always people who want to come to Mull in the winter months, especially around Christmas and Hogmanay time. Believe me, island life is far from lonely. I have a sister who lives in Edinburgh, and when I visit her it’s often struck me that city life is far lonelier for many people, even with all those thousands crammed in one small space.’
‘She’s got a point,’ said Jake, as Jeannie MacClain went to the Gordons’ table to take their breakfast order. He lowered his voice and asked: ‘So, if the MacClains are Watchers, how many of them are there? I’ve met Mrs MacClain’s husband, Alec, and their daughter Rona’s in the kitchen.’
‘She’s fifteen,’ said Lauren. ‘She’s working here during the school holidays. Then there’s their son, Robbie. He’s sixteen. He spends most of his time with his uncle, Alec MacClain’s younger brother, Dougie. Dougie’s a fisherman, plus general handyman, does odd jobs around the island.’