Ann Cleeves - Red Bones

‘But Jerry went on to marry her.’

‘He didn’t blame her. Not so much at least, though the marriage was never as fantastic as everyone made out. That was what my father said. She was only a girl, too young to understand what she was about. Jerry blamed the Norwegian.’

‘So he took him out and shot him?’

‘That was what my father said. Jerry was never…’ Andrew paused to find the right word, ‘… stable.’

‘And he buried the body at Setter?’ Sandy didn’t get that bit. Why Setter, where Mima and her grandmother lived? Was it to be a constant reminder to his new wife that he wouldn’t be messed with?

‘That was the story.’ Andrew leaned forward and very carefully set his mug on the table. Sandy saw that his hand was shaking. ‘One of the stories.’

Sandy looked at Perez, wondering if he wanted to continue the interview, but the inspector nodded for him to go on.

‘I don’t understand why Mima allowed the dig on her land,’ Sandy said. ‘She must have realized there was a chance the body would be found.’

‘She didn’t know,’ Andrew said. ‘She might have guessed but she didn’t know.’

They heard the sound of Jackie’s car approaching the house. Andrew didn’t register it. Sandy reached out and took another piece of flapjack. This was his breakfast, after all, and he felt he deserved it. Jackie opened the door and came in laden with carrier bags.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I hope you’ve not had such a boring time. Andrew doesn’t have much to say for himself these days.’

Berglund had hired a car from Bolt’s in Lerwick. It was still parked outside the Pier House. Perez could see it from his bedroom window. He phoned Bolt’s office and asked how long they expected Berglund to keep it.

‘He’s travelling south on the NorthLink this evening. He’ll drop it off in the car park at the terminal at around four-thirty. That was what we arranged, at least.’

Perez wished he had a reason to keep Berglund in Whalsay, but there was no way he could justify it. It was possible that the Setter project would be abandoned altogether now without Hattie to champion it. Rhona Laing was determined that Hattie’s death was suicide and that the use of Berglund’s knife had no significance. And perhaps she was right. The professor had been on the island when Mima was shot, but what reason could he have for killing an old Whalsay woman? He didn’t even have access to a shotgun as far as Perez knew. Hattie was a different matter. Perez could understand why the man would want her dead, and he was the last person to see her alive. But was it possible that the two deaths were unconnected, coincidental? He wondered if he should ask Berglund to stay, at least if he should arrange a more formal interview before the man left. But if he did that he’d be showing his hand. Berglund was a clever man. Better at the moment to let him think his secret was safe.

Perez continued to sit at the window, waiting for the moment when he saw Berglund drive down to the pier and on to the ferry. He wanted to be sure the man was off the island. He had almost an hour to wait before that happened, but Perez didn’t become restless or bored. He valued times of inactivity. He could think more clearly then. In his head he considered the characters playing out this drama in Whalsay. Were any of them capable of killing two people? There were occasions when his stillness drove Fran crazy. Sometimes she’d scream at him, laughing but irritated too. ‘How can you just sit there? What is going on inside your head?’ He was never quite sure how to answer. Stories , he thought. I just tell myself stories .

His mind left the inquiry, drifted back to Fran and again to marriage. Would she laugh if he proposed to her? It would seem an old-fashioned concept to her and quite outdated. Ridicule would almost certainly be her response.

When the ferry sailed off he got up. He went to the shop in Symbister and bought bread rolls, cheese, ham, fruit and cakes. There were other customers there and they fell silent until he left, when he was aware of a sudden buzz of conversation behind him. He turned back to the shop to buy a couple of cans of beer and was amused that the silence returned. He put his purchases in his car and drove to the Bod to see Sophie. With Berglund out of the way he supposed he’d find her alone.

She was sitting inside the bothy at the Formica table, seemed to be filling in some sort of form. He could see her through the grimy window. Remembering the time she’d found him there uninvited, he was careful to knock and wait outside until she called him in. She seemed disappointed. ‘Oh, it’s you.’

‘Who were you expecting?’

She hesitated. ‘I thought Paul might call in before he left.’

‘No,’ Perez said. ‘He’s already gone. I saw him go off on the ferry.’

‘I’m tidying up the paperwork for the project before I leave.’ Sophie turned round in her seat. ‘There’s no point my hanging around here. I might as well go back to London. It was what I planned anyway.’

‘So you’ll be running a cafe bar in Richmond?’

She grinned up at him. ‘Maybe. That’s one of the options. I’m not going to rush into anything. Maybe I’ll just take some time out.’

Perez was going to ask what she would do for money, but he saw that was no real concern for her. He didn’t think he’d met anyone before who didn’t have to work for a living. Duncan Hunter was probably the richest person he knew, but he still worked.

‘Will you stay with your parents?’

‘In their house. Daddy’s just gone off to Hong Kong for six months. Something about one of the businesses. So they’re not there.’

‘You don’t want to be with them?’ He thought despite the confidence and the loud voice she could use some support.

‘Why would I want that?’ Her voice was scathing. ‘I’m a grown-up. I’m not going to run away to Mummy every time I feel a bit miserable. Besides, all my friends are in London.’

‘Why are you miserable?’

She stared at him as if he were completely mad. ‘Why do you think? The person I’ve been sharing my life with for two months just killed herself. But don’t worry. A couple of decent nights out and I’ll be fine.’

‘Is that what you believe? That Hattie killed herself?’

‘Of course. What other explanation is there?’

He didn’t answer directly. ‘I’ve got a picnic,’ he said. ‘Let’s go up the island and have a bit of a walk.’

Again she stared at him as if he was a madman.

‘It’s all right,’ he said, though he wasn’t quite sure why she might need reassuring. ‘I just want to go somewhere we won’t be disturbed or overheard.’

They parked near the golf clubhouse. Again the weather was unusually mild: a gusty breeze blew startling white clouds and there were moments of bright sunlight. There were no other cars there and the golf course seemed deserted. They walked right to the end of the island and sat on rocks looking out to the Skerries, the inhabited island which stood very clear on the horizon.

‘I’ve lived all my life in Shetland and I’ve never been there,’ Perez said. He handed her one of the cans of beer and spread the food on a flat rock. A red-throated diver flew over their heads calling. Last time I heard that sound , Perez thought, was just before Hattie’s body was found . Although he knew it was superstition, he felt uneasy. What terrible thing would happen now? He turned his attention back to the Skerries. ‘Maybe I should pay a visit one day.’

Sophie tugged on the ring pull of the can. ‘What is all this about?’ she said. ‘What do you want from me?’ She was wearing shorts again and the big boots, a loose sweater with holes in the elbows. No bra, he thought. She leaned forward with her arms on her knees.