Free Deadly Code by Lin Anderson Page B

the air. This way it was still in one piece.
    'How long before the MOD finds out?'
    'Bill thinks you've got twenty-four hours. They established a crime scene. Appointed a crime scene manager. Went through the usual procedures. The hand wasn't necessarily linked to the foot, but people on Skye are angry about the missing fishermen. They think bits of their bodies are floating about. The local constabulary contacted Bill directly.'
    Twenty-four hours was long enough for her to process the hand. If it had grabbed at something before the body hit the water, there could be fragments below the nails. Rope, fibre, wood splinters, paint from the rails, polish from a deck; maybe hair or skin from an assailant.
    During her time in California, Rhona had learned that the disappearance of Dr Fitzgerald MacAulay was a thorn in the side of both the American and British governments. Saying his name during her interview with Phillips had been foolish. But better to come out with the truth. Wasn't that what Scots were good at. Saying it as it was and watching the fallout?
    Phillips' reaction had convinced her that she was right. They were looking for MacAulay. The foot might not be his. But they were going to make sure.
    There was no way that Rhona would be able to prove the hand was MacAulay's since she would not be allowed access to his DNA profile, even if the MOD had one.
    Fingerprints might be the answer, although it would take time to remove the fragile flakes of skin from the tips of the digits and stabilise them sufficiently to allow prints to be taken. But what if there was a record somewhere on the hand's owner?
    It was worth a try.
    Rigg beach was on the east coast of Skye, looking over Raasay Sound. It seemed likely the hand and foot belonged together.
    Three hours later, Rhona had the nylon membrane with the invisible blotted DNA ready for incubation overnight.
    The dissolving nails had revealed a hair, definitely human. It might belong to an assailant. She almost whooped for joy when she found both microscopic fragments of metal and some fibres.
    The samples of metal fragments from the foot had been removed from the lab before they were properly examined. Her slides of the rope fibres found on it had also been removed. Even if she took a DNA sample from the hand, she couldn't compare it to the foot. So whatever she did now wouldn't confirm that they belonged to the same person. But at least she could try and find out how the hand had become separated from the body.
    The fibres could be from a fisherman's net. Then again, they could be from a rope used to tie a body to the sea bed. Trawl nets were mostly high density polyethylene.
    Her examination revealed that the fibres from the wound weren't from fishing net. They were manila, a natural fibre still used for mooring and anchor lines.
    You had to whip or tape the ends to keep them from unravelling. Manila had a minimum of stretch and was very strong, but it also shrank when wet and rotted. As a tied body decomposed, could the action of the sea and a rope be enough to break it up? Rhona recorded her results then got cleaned up and headed for her laptop, trying to ignore her brain's desire to shut down for a twelve-hour sleep.
    The Caledonian MacBrayne website told her what she wanted to know. A ferry left Sconser on Skye for Raasay every hour Monday to Saturday. It took fifteen minutes to cross Raasay Sound.
    If the body had worked its way free from a sunken boat, then the propeller of the ferry or a yacht could have mangled it and sent the bits on their separate ways.
    Some research on a propeller company website gave her the information she needed. A propeller of a ferry or similar sized fishing boat would likely be a mix of bronze and nickel. Bronze was an alloy of copper and tin. It was strong, durable and easily workable, hot or cold.
    If the tiny particles were of a similar mix, that would suggest a propeller had cut up the body, and not a machete or samurai sword. Chemical