Chapter 25

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."

"Hide what?" Elin glances out to sea at a group of paddleboarders who are fanned out in a triangle formation. The person on the lone board in front moves effortlessly into a downward dog. Amazing how Bea's death has barely made a dent on the world. It isn't their person ; the juggernaut of life rolls on.

"How you feel. People bang on about getting used to it, but I think they just get better at covering it up."

Elin's momentarily thrown by his openness—they've never spoken like this before. Chitchat, surface stuff, but nothing beyond that. "You think most people hide it?"

"Course they do, we all have a game face, a defense mechanism to pull us through the shitty bits." He gestures down at himself. "This is mine. I was a skinny kid, used to run a lot with my mum. Psychologist would have a field day, say it's armor, defense mechanism..."

Elin struggles to picture a skinny him beneath the bulk. "Against what?"

"Verbal bullying, physical. All the rugby boys didn't exactly approve of the running and I was pretty nerdy. Into history, archaeology. People took the piss."

Elin gives him a sideways glance. "Brave of you to say. Not many people admit stuff like that, especially in this job." They scramble down the rocks onto the sand. "I've never felt I could share, not properly."

"This to do with the career break?" Steed asks.

"Partly. Keep thinking I'll choke on the job. Something happened before, and I froze. Part of me's convinced I'll do it again."

He grins. "Ah, so that's why I'm out here: backup."

"How'd you guess?" Smiling, Elin feels something shift between them, a tentative bond becoming firmer.

They reach the bottom of the steps. "Right, I need to call Will. You go up." She wants Will to hear from her what's happened before he finds out another way. "Then I need Farrah to tell me where my villa is."

"Villa?" Steed pulls a face. "Not slumming it in staff accommodation with me, then?"

"Pulling rank." Elin laughs as they begin walking up the steps. "It was actually all they had left. A cancellation." She hesitates. "But one thing I didn't think of—clothes. I've always got stuff in my bag, but..."

Steed smiles. "Don't worry. I brought some. The Scout in me. Always be prepared." Climbing the last few steps, he asks: "Anything you want me to do now? I was going to get something to eat."

"Maybe speak to some of the staff. Be discreet, but ask if they saw or heard anything out of the ordinary."

Nodding, Steed lowers his voice. "Don't look, but you've got a fan. On the right."

She gives it a few seconds and then glances up. Michael Zimmerman is standing near the restaurant, broom in hand, openly staring at Elin. Realizing that they've noticed him, he rapidly starts sweeping again.

Elin scrutinizes his bent frame, and once again she feels a sense of familiarity. It's confusing: she's now certain that it isn't only that he reminds her of someone; she recognizes him, has seen him somewhere before. "That's the guy who found the body."

"Ah, I never asked. Helpful?"

"Not sure. He was... rattled. Kept banging on about the island. The curse. Reckons he saw someone at night, walking around the rock."

"Guests?"

"Assume so." Elin clears her throat, eyes still fixed on Zimmerman. "Right, I'd better call Will. Can't put it off anymore."

"Good luck."

"Thanks." Elin strides toward the side of the main lodge, hoping for some privacy.

Although she's sure that Michael Zimmerman can't see her from this angle, she's certain she can feel his eyes on her, watching her every move.