He shared his office with DC Smith, who was out on a job, and it was his chair that he offered to Dr Kimm when he came in. He had heard the roar of the motorbike out in Church Street, but had not associated it with the imminent arrival of the psychiatrist from the Western Isles Hospital. Until the man entered wearing his leathers, a helmet under one arm, the other holding out his report. ‘I knew you were in a hurry for this, Mr Gunn, but it will take me some time to produce a detailed report. This is just a digest, a summary of my findings.’ Gunn glanced over the printed sheets and his heart sank. This would not be light reading. ‘Maybe you’d like to give me a quick verbal,’ he said optimistically. The doctor glanced at his watch. ‘I’m hoping to get down as far as Leverburgh today,’ he said. ‘Taking the Golden Road. The forecast’s good, but I want to leave myself time to get back before dark.’ ‘Doesn’t have to take any longer than you want it to, Doctor. Just a thumbnail sketch of your conclusions.’ He knew he wouldn’t have a chance to wade through the report, interim or not, before his meeting with the CIO, and he didn’t want to face him without all the details at his fingertips.
