Free None but the Dead by Lin Anderson

five to ten centimetres deep per grid square, bagging the samples of soil, dating and timing them.
    Taking scene images throughout every single action as well as the time-lapse video had been crucial. Procurator Fiscals and Senior Investigating Officers were now extremely precious about who
took what images during the recovery process of a body. Whereas in the past a specialist team from R2S might have been called in, now the 360-degree panel camera work was done by trained SOCOs and
the PolScot imaging unit made up the court presentations. Cost had become an important factor now there was a single force, and outsiders that they would have to pay for weren’t used unless
there were extenuating circumstances. Rhona had always made her own personal recording of the scene alongside R2S, so for her things hadn’t changed that much.
    The weather had held, breezy but dry, as Erling had predicted. They’d worked continuously except for a short break, during which they’d made use of the schoolhouse toilet and
gratefully accepted Mike’s offer of coffee, which they’d had with the selection of sandwiches Chrissy had brought. Rhona had noted in the brief time they were with Mike that he seemed
more relaxed when Erling wasn’t about, although he was clearly worried about the missing skull.
    ‘Could an animal have removed it?’ he’d said as he served up the coffee.
    ‘Animals do disturb graves, but it’s normally the smaller bones that are taken,’ Rhona had explained. ‘The skull is heavy.’
    ‘So a human being took it?’
    ‘That’s the most likely explanation.’ She paused. ‘You mentioned you’ve heard children playing nearby?’
    He looked perturbed by this. ‘Yes, but I’ve never seen them.’
    ‘Could their voices have carried from the beach?’
    ‘The dunes are in between, but I suppose that might have been what happened.’ He didn’t look convinced.
    ‘The old playground could be a draw,’ Rhona offered. ‘The surface is ideal for football and other ball games.’
    ‘Then why when I open the door is no one there?’
    Rhona wondered if perhaps the local children were simply playing tricks on him. ‘Have you met your nearest neighbours?’
    ‘Not really, no.’ He tried a smile. ‘Everyone’s been friendly enough, it’s just I’ve been too busy with the renovations.’
    Chrissy had said nothing during the interchange, but had plenty to say when they were back at work.
    ‘It’s like the
Wicker Man
,’ she’d announced as she’d picked up her trowel.
    ‘What?’
    ‘An incomer on a small Scottish island discovers Pagan cult and is sacrificed to their gods.’ Chrissy had paused for effect. ‘Hey, wasn’t the incomer a police officer
come to investigate the disappearance of a young woman?’ At this point Chrissy had given a knowing nod to the grave.
    ‘That puts us in the firing line,’ Rhona had reminded her, ‘not Mike.’
    ‘Oh my God.’ Chrissy had adopted a terrified look. ‘And we’re alone tonight in an isolated cottage. We should have brought McNab along to protect us.’
    By close of day they’d processed approximately half the fill. Rhona had drawn the section that could be seen, taken notes on the compaction, the stratigraphy of the side
walls and some more soil samples, and dictated notes to Chrissy on the vegetation growth.
    All being well, tomorrow would see the skeleton fully exposed.
    They secured a plastic tarp over the area, and pegged it down.
    With the disappearance of the skull, Rhona’s concern wasn’t for the wind to lift the tarp, but for a person to. It seemed that Erling had had the same thought, because shortly before
they’d finished for the day, a young police officer had arrived via Derek’s Land Rover and announced that he was on sentry duty for the night.
    By his speech, Officer Tulloch was Orkney born and bred. He was also tall, handsome and immediately in Chrissy’s sights. Rhona would have felt sorry for the bloke had he not looked