Page 63 of Savage Justice

I tracked Marlowe down in Paraguay where he was doing some work for the National Museum of Fine Arts in Asunción. Ethan spoke to him on the phone and somehow managed to persuade him to drop everything and fly to Scotland. I’m guessing a hefty fee would have been involved, but it sounds like there’s some job satisfaction at play, too.

“I’m Nicolai Hanssen,” Nico introduces himself. “You’ll be working closely with me on this project.”

“You’re an artist, too?”

“No. I’m a marksman.” He pauses to let that unorthodox career choice settle. “Shall we say, I have a keen interest in the outcome? And in Molly.”

Marlow grins at me as the penny drops. “You have an unusual taste in lovers, Moll, but I prefer this one to the previous model. He was a douchebag.” He offers Nico his hand, too. “Nice to meet you, Mr Hanssen.”

Ethan is playing the cordial host. “You must be tired after your journey. I’ll have someone show you to your room.”

“I’ll do that,” I offer. “It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

“I wouldn’t mind dumping my bags, but I’d prefer to look round if that’s okay?”

“Please, feel free. You can find me in my office when you’re ready. Molly knows the way. Nico?”

“I have shit to be getting on with. I’ll get someone to take your luggage up to your room, and I’ll see you soon, Mr McGuinness. Molly.”

He kisses me on the mouth, as much by way of marking his territory, I suspect, as to show affection.

Marlowe watches the two men’s retreating backs for a few moments. “If your boyfriend pulls out a ruler and wants to measure my dick, I’m out of here.”

“It’s not like that,” I protest. “He’s just—”

“Possessive? Confrontational? Rutting alpha male?”

I pause for a second. I suppose Nico is all of that, yet…

“He’s… nice,” I say. “Really, really nice.”

Marlowe’s arm is slung around my shoulders. “That’s good to hear, babe. About time you bagged yourself a keeper. And I do have a personal interest, obviously.”

“Oh, no. He’s not… I mean, we haven’t… It’s just…”

“Yeah, right. So, about this tour…?”

I start with the collection of cottages and converted barns which make up the facilities and accommodation for most of the inhabitants of Caraksay.

“There’s the medical centre…” I gesture to the single-storey building to my right. “It’s incredibly well-equipped considering it only caters for about fifty people. And that large barn is the gym and swimming pool. The smaller buildings are where people live. Families, mostly… There are apartments and offices in the castle. Do you want to see the beach?”

“Too right I do.”

We scramble down the cliff path to stroll along the shingled shoreline, and I point out the tiny harbour and the luxury yacht anchored out to sea. “I’ve never been on board, but I gather it’s fabulous.”

“Do the wind turbines serve the island?” Marlowe asks. He shields his eyes with his hand to gaze at the four stately offshore structures.

“They do. I think there’s some tidal energy as well. Ethan likes to be green. Protect the wildlife. Apparently, this is a known breeding ground for grey seals. They turn up in their thousands, and he won’t have them disturbed. I’ve spotted dolphins, too, and one time, a whale.”

Marlowe shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and gazes out to sea. “Your boss is an interesting guy. Scary as hell, but kind to children and animals.”

“I suppose so. But he’s not my boss. I’m just staying here until this is all… settled.”

“Nico’s boss then. Your gangster boyfriend.”

I don’t bother denying that. Instead, I settle for a change of subject. “Ethan’s a bit of a collector, too. Antiques, and art. You should see the library here. It’s full of first editions.”

“Lead on,” he says, gesturing to the path up the cliffs.

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