Page 51 of Savage Redemption

“I see. Then tell me, Bex, why was one of your workmen wandering around my island on his own? Were my instructions not perfectly clear?”

“Yes, sir, but?—”

“But?” I harden my expression, usually enough to elicit whatever explanation I require from any of my men.

Bex Bartley is a different kettle of fish entirely.

She tips up her chin and meets my glare head-on. “He had an injury. Sprained wrist, needed an X-ray. I sent him to that clinic you have here to get it checked out.”

“What part of ‘no one leaves the site unescorted’ was not clear to you, Ms Bartley?”

“And what part of the Health and Safety at Work Act of 1974 is not entirely clear to you, Mr Savage?”

I narrow my eyes. Pretty much all of it, actually. What the fuck does health and safety have to do with me?”

Rebecca Bartley steams on. “He was hurt. At work. As his supervisor, I am legally obliged to provide for his health and welfare. That meant seeking medical attention for a suspected injury in the workplace.”

“It could have waited until he was back on the mainland.”

“Could it? You know that, do you? You could tell all that, from over there in Dundee?”

Tony barely manages to conceal his smirk.

Nathan Darke tries to intervene. “It’s my fault. I should have?—”

The feisty little site forewoman is having none of it. “I’m in charge on the site, not you, and not him.” She jerks her thumb in the direction of the architect. “It’smylicence on the line. The last thing any of us need is the Health and Safety Executive crawling all over everything. I do things by the book. Always.”

I’m beginning to suspect the Health and Safety ship may have sailed, and I briefly reconsider my decision to bring in a fire investigation expert. As to the matter in hand, clearly there’s going to be no intimidating Ms Bartley, unless I’m prepared to get really unpleasant, which I don’t think I am. Nevertheless, I plough on.

“So, as far as you were aware, he was at the clinic?”

“Yes.” She nods emphatically. “I told him half an hour, max.”

“And how long was he gone?”

“Well, more than that, obviously. I was just about to send someone to find him when the alarm went up about the fire. We all downed tools and ran to help. Next time I saw him, he waslying on the grass outside that burning cottage.” Her shoulders stiffen. “I want to go and see him. Now.”

“I’m sorry, Ms Bartley, that will not be possible. Believe me, he’s in excellent hands.”

“He should be in a hospital,” she repeats.

“And he will be, if his condition worsens.” I scan the rest of the room, assessing the value of questioning the men. Frankly, I doubt any of them know anything beyond which is the business end of a trowel. I decide to cut my losses. “Your boat is waiting down on the jetty. I suggest you get yourselves on it now, before the tide turns and you’re stuck here all night.”

Our harbour isn’t tidal, but they don’t know that, and I want them gone. Most of them don’t need telling twice, and they pile out within seconds. Ms Bartley is another matter.

“I’m afraid I can’t leave without first seeing Carlos. I have forms to fill in, a report to file.”

I really don’t like the sound of that. “How about a trade. You can visit him, in exchange for no forms and no files.”

“That’s impossible. I?—”

“Bex, why not leave the formalities to me?” Nathan adopts his most professional expression. “I can deal with the authorities, let you get on with organising the men. We’ve already lost the best part of half a day, and you’ll be a man down tomorrow. You’ve a lot to do.”

She looks unconvinced. “Well, that’s true, but I really should?—”

“I can hold the boat for twenty minutes, no more,” I point out. “That’s all the time you have for visiting. Tony will show you where your man is.”

Alone in the library,I pull out my phone and hit the speed dial number for Megan. “Hey, one more question. Any sign of asprained wrist on your patient? No? You sure? Okay, thanks.” I hang up and turn to my architect. “Well, will the upstanding and very proper Ms Bartley be putting in a formal report?”

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