I’m still kneeling by the body when footsteps rattle outside, then a familiar voice calls Hayle’s name. My godmother steps inside before I can stop her, but the smile on her face soon fades.
‘Stay there, Maggie, don’t come any further.’
A carrier bag drops from her hands as she observes the scene. ‘Jesus, what’s happened?’
‘Ring the hotel, can you? I need Liz Gannick here straight away.’
She looks startled, but follows my instruction. I can hear her voice, high and urgent, as she places the call. Instinct tells me to check whether anyone forced their way inside, but Gannick will need the scene preserved. When I stare down at Hayle’s face again, his final expression looks like blank-eyed surprise.
‘You poor bastard,’ I mutter under my breath.
There are dark swellings on his forehead and jaw, blood coagulating on the cuts, no other visible injuries. The wounds may have come from falling down the stairs, but the set-up looks unnatural. Whatever happened, it’s easier to sympathise with Hayle’s loneliness now that he’s gone. Death is always a great leveller. Rich or poor, kind or cruel, the dead have rights, no matter how they lived. The man’s complaints have been replaced by a raft of questions. I can’t help remembering Ray’s voice saying that he disliked Hayle, although I’ve never seen him lash out at anyone. Hayle could have lost his balance, but the killer may have been terrified that the old man had witnessed something incriminating from his high vantage point, and silenced him before he could tell anyone.
When I turn round, a carton of soup from Maggie’s bag has spilled across the tiles by the threshold, half a dozen food packages on the floor. I could hunt for a mop in the kitchen, but that might do more harm than good, so I’ll leave the mess until Gannick arrives.
Maggie is perched on a bench outside, clutching her phone, her face white with shock, despite the early-evening warmth. Shadow is sitting at her feet, ready to defend her from all comers. My godmother looks up at me, her expression puzzled.
‘The poor man could have been there hours, yelling for help.’
‘I don’t think so. A few seconds of pain, then he was gone.’
‘It’s still an awful way to die.’
When I put my arm round her shoulders, she leans in, accepting the comfort.
‘Louis was isolated, since Faith died, last year.’
‘His wife was the quiet type, wasn’t she? I hardly remember her.’
‘That’s because he came down on his own from London, for years. She was very involved in charity work in London. Faith started coming down with him about twenty years ago, for long holidays. They did almost everything together after that.’
‘Losing her must have hurt.’
‘I know he came over as arrogant, but he was generous, Ben. He paid for some of the island kids’ college fees, but never bragged about it.’
‘How come you were bringing him food?’
‘We’ve given him meals to put in his freezer every week since Faith’s funeral.’ Her voice crackles with sadness. ‘He hated eating alone.’
‘Did you see anyone come up here today? You’re his nearest neighbour.’
‘Not a soul.’ Maggie’s eyes are glassy. ‘Kids flocked here years ago, didn’t they? You all wanted a ride in his helicopter, or on his yacht, until he lost everything. I think most of it went when the stock market bombed in 2008. That’s what made him bitter.’ Her gaze clears again. ‘Sorry, the past’s irrelevant, is it? I was inside yesterday, doing the books, but Billy may have spotted someone. You don’t think Louis threw himself down those stairs on purpose, do you?’
‘We’ll find out.’ I give her hand a squeeze. ‘Don’t tell anyone until I make an announcement, not even Billy.’
She gives a solemn nod. ‘My lips are sealed.’
‘There’s another thing, Maggie. No need to worry, but I’ve got a tricky situation.’
‘I knew it, you’ve been preoccupied for days. What’s up?’
Horror spreads across her face as I explain about past violence encroaching on the present, even when I offer reassurance.
‘It’s me he’s after, Maggie. No one else.’
‘You need specialist protection. No one should have to face this alone.’
‘Six officers are flying over tomorrow. Have you got space for them at the pub?’
‘Of course. We’re empty while the island’s locked down.’
‘It may not come to anything.’
She narrows her eyes. ‘I can tell you’re rattled, Benesek Kitto. Remember, I’ve known you from birth. You’d be with Nina if things were okay.’
‘This’ll keep me here tonight, and I can’t abandon the investigation yet. A man’s died, Maggie, on our island. No one’s safe here till we know why.’
I can see my godmother biting her tongue to avoid giving me a lecture on personal safety, but the situation calls for immediate action. The whole community’s in danger if Hayle’s death turns out to be murder. The sky is darkening when I look downhill to New Grimsby Sound. A white yacht is sailing by at such a slow pace it leaves no wash at all, the water unblemished. I can’t explain why such an innocent sight sends a chill down my backbone, like I’ve seen a ghost.