About to pull her phone from her pocket, she pauses. A woman is striding toward her, her gait erratic, struggling with the soft sand. Hana.
She stops in front of Elin, nervously plucking at her dress. “I wanted to speak to you alone.” Her dark bob has separated into thick clumps clinging to her cheeks, the oval of her face pronounced. “I know what happened to Bea was an accident, that probably this isn’t relevant, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t say anything. It’s important, isn’t it, in a situation like this, to say everything, even if it sounds stupid?”
“Of course. Shall we sit down first?” Elin points to the large boulders squatting at the edge of the beach. “Get some shade.”
But Elin hasn’t even pulled out her notebook when Hana starts speaking. “My cousin, Maya, thinks that someone did leave the villa last night. When you asked us about it, someone . . .” She stops, struggling to get out the words.
“Someone lied,” Elin finishes for her.
Hana nods. There’s a pause before she looks up at her, her expression tumultuous. “You know, I thought this trip was a bad idea from the beginning. Everything I’ve heard about the island, those murders, the rumors about that school . . .”
Elin’s pulse picks up. “What do you mean?”
“Maya’s father’s friend worked at the old school for a while. Didn’t last long. He told her this place was bad news.” Her expression darkens as she looks around her. “Now we’re here, I know exactly what he meant.”
25
CCTV is clear?” The ugly shriek of a gull overhead almost drowns out Anna’s words.
“Yes. She leaned over to pick up her wrap. Overbalanced.” Elin stares out at the white gold of the sand, the glimmering band of water beyond. “Doesn’t appear anyone else was involved. Leon thinks forensics on the glass corroborates, but we’ll only be able to confirm once we establish the prints are hers.”
“Alcohol?”
“Possible, but we’ll need to wait for the toxicology results once the PM’s been done. Anything else you can think of before I release the scene?”
“No, sounds like you’ve got it covered.” A pause. “Elin, is something up?”
She always forgets how well Anna knows her. “Something’s jarring, not the fall itself, but why she was out here. If it’s all right, I might stay on over the weekend.”
“You want to keep Steed?”
“Moral support?”
“If you want to put it like that. I know I’ve thrown you in at the deep end . . .” Elin smiles. Yet again, Anna’s preempted her. She hadn’t thought about it until she mentioned it, but it makes sense. Not being on her own. “And it’s all gone okay so far?” Anna says softly.
Elin knows that this is her way of asking if she’s coping, if Anna made the right call in asking her to go. She has a brief urge to blurt it all out: the doubts, her uneasiness about the island, but she doesn’t miss a beat. “Really, it’s been fine.”
The dull drone of an engine prompts her to look up. She can make out the rough outline of the police boat in the distance, speeding toward the island.
“Anna, I’d better go. The boat’s here.” The RIB is slowing as it approaches the rocks, the individual figures on board pulling clear from the blur.
Game face on, Elin starts walking back the way she came.
Bea Leger’s brief stay on the island is coming to an end.
* * *
—
The zipper of the body bag makes an excruciating sound in the still air, a creaking wrench as teeth meet teeth. Halfway up, the zipper jams. Rachel’s hand is shaking as she yanks, tries again, rocking the pull forward and back. A fresh band of sweat breaks out on her forehead.
Steed shifts uncomfortably. She can tell he’s itching to step in, get it done.
Elin turns away, her mouth dry. She hates this bit: the impersonal closing of the body bag, the efficient transfer of the body to the mortuary.
They watch, silent, as the two officers carry Bea off the rocks and onto the RIB. The ordeal over, Rachel follows the police driver onto the boat. “Right,” she calls. “We’re out of here. I’ll accompany the body to the mortuary for continuity of ID. Call me if you need anything.”
Elin’s sure she can hear relief in Rachel’s voice. She’s proven right: as the boat speeds away a few minutes later, Rachel doesn’t even give them a backward glance.
“You don’t have to hide it, you know,” Steed says as they pick their way back to the beach. “Not around me, anyway.”