restrained and gentlemanly to do. ‘You’re no from around here,’ she said. Such powers of observation. But that was an invitation Ben did rise to, because it gave him the opportunity to mention the purpose of his visit to Kinlochardaich.
‘No, I’m just passing through,’ he said, and she looked a little disappointed. He added, ‘Came to see a friend.’
‘Oh, aye? I know everyone in Kinlochardaich.’ She winked. ‘Lady friend, is it?’
‘Nothing that exciting,’ he replied.
Just then one of the group from the round table got up and came over to the bar, thumped his empty pint glass down on a beermat and said gruffly, ‘Same again, Holly love.’ He was a heavyset man of around Ben’s age or a couple of years younger, but four inches taller, which put him at about six-three. His hair was black and curly, his nose broken and crooked, and he had the neck and shoulders of a powerlifter. His sleeves were rolled up, showing muscled forearms inked from the wrist to the elbow with flame tattoos. Ben sat and sipped his scotch in silence while Holly refilled the big guy’s glass. The man spilled some cash on the counter, gave Ben the briefest glance which Ben noticed but didn’t acknow-ledge, then stumped back to the table with his beer. The pub floorboards creaked under his weight.
The interruption over, Holly returned to her position leaning against the bar and resumed the flirting. ‘So where’re you from?’ she asked, a lot more interested in Ben than in who his friend might be, and making no attempt to hide it. Nineteen or twenty years old, stuck out here in a lonely rural village with obviously not too many strange and interesting new men passing through her life. She was more the kind of age for Jude, Ben thought. His son was between girlfriends at the moment, still living in the States but talking about returning home to the UK. Maybe Ben should send him up north to hook up with Holly here. She’d certainly make a refreshing change from the last one, a social justice warrior and do-gooder political activist called Rae Lee.
‘I live abroad,’ Ben said.
‘Thought you were English.’ That didn’t seem to put Holly off, though.
He replied, ‘Half Irish. But I don’t live there, either.’
‘How long did you say you were staying?’ Getting bolder with the flirting now.
‘Only until I find my friend. Which I’m hoping to do soon. Maybe a day or so.’
‘Och, that’s a shame. Did you say your friend’s a local?’
‘No, he’s just passing through, same as me. His name’s Boonzie McCulloch. He’s Ewan McCulloch’s uncle. Do you know Ewan?’
She nodded. ‘Aye, I know Ewan. Heard he was in the hospital, though. Is he okay?’
‘Not really. That’s why his uncle travelled to the area. I was hoping to catch up with him here in Kinlochardaich, but no joy. I wondered if maybe he’d been in here for a drink the last couple of days? Older guy. Shorter than me, wiry build. Grey hair, beard. Speaks like he’s from Glasgow.’
Holly looked dubious. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen him. I mean, we get a lot of older customers who look like that, but you’re the first new face who’s been in here lately.’ She added, ‘I should know.’
‘All the same, I have a photo of him, if you wouldn’t mind taking a look. Might ring a bell.’
She shrugged. ‘Sure, but like I say, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t come in here.’
It seemed like a long shot, but Ben took out his phone and went to his stored images. The picture of Boonzie was a few years old, taken when Ben had visited him and Mirella at their place in Italy, but he was confident that Holly would recognise him if she’d seen him. There was only one Boonzie McCulloch in the world and he didn’t change much. Ben angled the phone so Holly could see. She leaned further forward across the bar, squashing her chest on the counter and tickling his hand with the dangling tips of her hair. The images were stored in date order with the most recent first. He’d have to scroll all the way back to near the beginning to get to the one he wanted to show her.
But Holly stopped him dead when she saw the very first picture, Ben’s most recent addition to the file. It was the image of Ewan’s gold coin that Mirella had emailed him earlier that afternoon. Holly spotted it and instantly said, ‘Hey, that looks familiar. Did you find buried treasure too?’
Ben stared at her. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘That.’ She pointed at the picture with a long, glittery nail. ‘It’s not every day you see bling like that getting flashed around. Is it real? Looks real. Just like the other.’
‘When did you see something like this before?’
She pulled away from the phone, as if she’d seen enough. ‘Och, just a few days ago. He was sitting right there, on the same stool you are.’
‘Who was sitting here?’
Holly’s brow creased into a frown and she hesitated before replying, ‘Ross Campbell.’
‘Ross Campbell, the fellow who drowned?’
She nodded sadly, still frowning. ‘You must have heard about it back home where you come from, aye?’ As though accidental drownings in remote parts of Scotland were big news internationally. ‘That was awfy. I didn’t really know Ross that well, but I was so upset when I heard.’ Holly thought about it for a moment, then added in an undertone, ‘You know, some folks’re calling it suicide. But I don’t believe it. When he was in here that night he looked way too pleased wi’ himself to be the suicidal type.’
‘Explain this to me,’ Ben said. ‘Ross Campbell was in here a few nights ago and had a gold coin with him, just like the one in the photo? Is that what you’re saying?’
Holly nodded again. ‘Aye, must’ve been a day or two before … before it happened. Maybe even the very day before. I don’t remember.’
‘And you actually saw the coin?’
‘He showed it to me.’ There was nothing in her eyes but blank sincerity. She was telling the truth.
‘What for?’
‘Well, he was a wee bit pissed, to be honest. Kept going on about he’d struck it rich, found the mother lode, all that. Said he was gonnae leave this shitehole, go off to a tropical beach and never come back again. Asked me to come wi’ him. Me. Can you believe that?’ she added with a brief, wistful smile. ‘And then he was dead.’
‘He had just the one coin?’
She shook her head. ‘That’s all he showed me, but he said he had a whole load more stashed away somewhere. I wiz teasin’ him about it, said, “Ross Campbell, where’d you go gettin’ yer hands on a big pile o’ gold?”’
‘And what did he say to that?’
‘Wouldnae tell me. Said it was his big secret, and he was the only one who knew about it. I said, “No much of a secret if ye’re bletherin’ on about it in this bloody place.”’
Ben had forgotten all about showing Holly the picture of Boonzie. This was more important. Now the gold trail led back to Ewan McCulloch’s dead business partner
