I knew what I was feeling. The first fingers of guilt were exploring me, probing at my conscience. Well, they were wasting their time. Lay was dead, what was done was done, for ever and a day, and there was no undoing it. It was a pity his widow would never know what had happened to him, but it would be somewhat foolhardy of us to enlighten her. She’d never believe it, anyway, not without proof. Which would make this expedition pointless in the extreme.

That was another problem sorted out.

‘Turn right here,’ I directed Ellie. By then we’d struck deep into the Highlands. The scenery would have been breathtaking, had we been able to see it. We passed through a little village, rounded a sharp S-bend and soon became aware of a large mass of water to our right.

‘That’s the loch,’ I said without emotion. She nodded.

We were nearing Lay’s grave. Ten minutes later the road entered a stretch of dense forest.

‘Half a mile,’ I warned her, ’start slowing down. The track should be on the right, just after another one on the left.’

There it was, at an acute reverse angle. Ellie made the tight turn and stopped, switching off the lights before the van left the road. We didn’t want any passing motorists to catch a glimpse of us. I got out and began to walk down the track, seeing my way by the light of one of the torches. Ellie drove slowly behind me, guided by the feeble light. By then we had doubled back on ourselves and were moving parallel to both the road and the shore of the loch. The latter soon followed a kink so that the track was only feet from the water. I was relieved to see that the ground was stony and firm. A significant quantity of mud would have caused a major problem, making it necessary to continue the journey to an alternative site. We had only three of them lined up.

I motioned Ellie to stop. I moved to the back of the van, opened the rear doors, climbed inside and switched on the single light. She joined me.

‘Time for the interment,’ she said quietly, and unnecessarily.

(To be continued)