Ellie looked at the coins. The last one was a nineteen-thirty halfpenny.
“That’s what they’ll have worked out the date from. That was as close as they could get.”
Sergeant Andrews knocked before entering and sat down opposite them.
“We’ve decided to keep this ring, and the coins,” said Jamie.
The sergeant thanked him and handed over a form for Jamie to tick and sign. Once that was done, he signed it himself.
“Thank you, sir. Strictly speaking, it would be simpler for us if you were to take everything away with you because we are supposed to obtain written permission to keep any items of property. It would be easier all round if we could just say that you took everything and I’ll do the necessary and then sent back the empty box.”
There was agreement on this as Sergeant Andrews completed and signed the appropriate paperwork.
“The cemetery is on the outskirts of the town. Would you like me to take you there?”
Jamie thanked him.
“Now is there anything else I can help you with before we go there?”
“There is one thing. Would it be possible to see where the bodies were found, the actual site? I feel I would like to be there.”
“It might be difficult to find the exact place because the officers who were involved in the investigation have retired or moved on. But I can take you to the general area. It wasn’t a local man who found them, you know. I think he lived in the Edinburgh area.”
“The general area will be fine,” Jamie said, “because we know the man who found them. Mr Singer is sitting in the car outside.”
The officer was puzzled. “You know him then?”
“It’s a bit of a long story, but we met him about a month ago, up in Ullapool, quite by chance. He couldn’t believe it either: it’s just one of those coincidences. He showed us the newspaper article from the paper in Oban and we knew right away it was them. It just seemed to be speaking directly to us, through him.”
“Well it’s strange you should say that,” said Sergeant Andrews. “These sorts of coincidences- they’re not as unusual as you might think. Logically, they shouldn’t happen but I’ve seen these ‘coincidences’ many times. It’s as if things are trying to connect with one another behind the scenes, or somehow sort themselves out, without us being involved, or at least without us feeling that we’re involved… It’s hard to explain.”
“My brother felt this too,” Ellie said. “He was always finding things out in the hills. He felt they were waiting for him, so he had to go there. I do know what you mean.”
It was time to go. Jamie put the small plastic bags in his jacket pocket and they met up with Alastair outside, looking at something in the ‘Secret Places…’ He closed it when they appeared. This time he would accompany them.
The graveyard itself was quite small with a low surrounding wall and a good view of Davarr Island. Sergeant Andrews led them to two small gravestones, which were simply inscribed.
“We always feel they will be identified at sometime in the future,” he said, “so we keep things as simple as possible.
“If you wish to replace the headstones, the local council will carry out the installation work for you. Of course, you can have them reburied somewhere else, though that would be at your expense. And of course it would be necessary to obtain permission. Since the Procurator Fiscal has ruled out foul play, it would be the local council you would speak to. A consultation like that could be a lengthy process, I suspect.” His tone was almost neutral throughout, for he was used to helping people through difficult experiences. This was better for everyone.
“It’s a beautiful place,” said Ellie, “very peaceful.”
“Yes it is,” said Alastair.
After perhaps a minute, Jamie spoke.
“I’ll need to think this over, if that is acceptable.”
“Of course. Take as much time as you need. You know where they are. Let me know when you decide.”
Jamie crouched down in front of one of the small, plain headstones. Male. Found in Argyll. August 1995. He reached out and touched both.
“These simple stones…..they are quite beautiful,” he said.
“Alastair, thank you for doing this.”
Ellie put her hand in Alastair’s and pressed it in confirmation.
“Yes,” she said.
She reached down and put a small posy of flowers at each stone. It was a familiar act. Then they walked back to the car, Jamie trailing behind them a little.
For the journey north, Alastair followed the police Range Rover until they reached the village of Tayinloan, where the forestry track began. Then he climbed into the front seat beside the sergeant and they made their way, bumping and slithering occasionally on the soft ground.
After several minutes Jamie spoke.
“Sergeant Andrews, why might they have wanted to come to this place? Was there something here then which might have drawn them?”
“I read over the police reports, the ones from the nineteen nineties, knowing you were coming. They couldn’t come up with a reason. The place had hardly changed since the nineteen thirties, apart from some forestry work on the lower slopes. We just don’t know why they came up here.
“There’s quite a few things we don’t know. We don’t know how they got here. They boarded a bus in Oban and got off at Kilmartin. We know that because of eyewitness statements from the time of the original missing persons’ enquiry in the thirties, which has come to light. A lot of the old files are still not on the computer records, of course, so you have to know exactly where to look before you can find anything. When you told us they went missing in August 1936 we found the files quickly. Of course, they didn’t answer our questions either. It’s possible your parents could have walked part of the way here, but nobody saw them. Also, they had said they’d be back later that day.”
“I suppose they might have been offered a lift?” said Ellie.
“That’s much more likely,” Sergeant Andrews said, “but why did no-one come forward to say so when the original search was going on? It had a lot of publicity in local papers. The driver must have known. He would have come forward, surely. After all, there was no indication of foul play of any kind. He would have had nothing to hide.”
“This is where I worked on the forestry tractors,” said Alastair. “This clearing was where the machines were kept. I walked up here and headed out in that direction, round a small loch. Stay on the track, though. It won’t be much further.”
“Sergeant Andrews, do they know what happened to them when they were up here?” asked Ellie.
“Not with any certainty. One possibility was a freak natural event like a lightning strike. There was bad weather in Oban the day they left and it moved south down Argyll, so that’s possible. There were no burn marks but it may have been a close rather than a direct strike, but still enough to incapacitate them. They would then have died of exposure. Drowning is another possibility. The ground is waterlogged now even though it’s been dry weather recently. The conditions up here could have been much worse back then.
“I think a more likely scenario is a heart attack or something of that sort. But then why would the other person have stayed with them? That might make sense if someone knew they were there and would come looking. But nobody knew that. It just doesn’t add up. At the end of the day, when you have to call it something, you just say it is “Cause Unascertained”. That’s what the Forensic Report called it. Even today, with all the modern testing we have, they sometimes still have to call it that.”
Up ahead, a little to their left, Alastair could see the top of a large rock, recognisable even from an unfamiliar angle. They drove as close as possible and then dismounted. They stood next to the car while he made his way to the rock and climbed it.
For a minute or two he looked around, moving to different positions, stretching a little or crouching down. The memory of two white shapes resurfaced briefly and he waved to them.
“Stay there!” he shouted.
They waited as he came down from the rock and across to them, taking big steps as he moved from one tussock to another, avoiding the wet ground.
“Right here,” he said. “This is where they were.”
It was a calm day, a beautiful day; and all who were there felt a great peace descend on them, extraordinary and complete.
Acknowledgements
My thanks go to Lorna, Scott, Irene, Lindsay and Clare for their comments on early drafts. The technical and editorial advice I received from these friends and others made a huge difference. Any errors which remain are mine alone.
Special thanks go to Chloe, who produced the cover illustrations and helped with the maps and the layout. Her advice was also very important.
I am also indebted to the management of The Arch Inn, on West Shore Street, Ullapool, for allowing me to use it as a setting in the novel.
Likewise, I am grateful to the owners of the Lochinver Larder on Main Street, Lochinver, Sutherland.
I would also like to thank Charlie Macrae of the Riverside Guest House for the use of his persona as well as his premises on Quay Street, Ullapool.
Although the central characters and events are fictional, many of the locations are real, whether these are shops, a mountain, a loch or simply a view. I hope these are recognisable to those who know the north-west and that I am able to convey some sense of being there. It is a very special place.
Main sources:
“Most Secret War” by R.V. Jones, Coronet books
“The Hidden Places of Scotland” ed. Chris Taylor,
M+M Publishing
“The West Highlands of Scotland” by W.H. Murray, Collins
“Nightfighter” by Ken Delve, Cassell & co
“Knights of the Black Cross” by B. Perrett, Wordsworth Ed.
“Gloomy Memories….” by Donald Mcleod, Sinclair (1892)
* * *
[1] “I’m working on a Dornier at the moment, but in secret,” is what he said to Jamie.
[2] From ‘Nightfighter’ by Ken Delve p72 Cassell&Co
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