Ann Cleeves - Thin Air

David was taking a long time to reply and she prompted him. ‘Were you asleep when he got in?’

This time the answer was immediate. ‘Of course not! But I pretended to be. I was scared that he might be planning to run away, that stress about the business had finally pushed him over the edge. I kept looking at the clock and wondering what could have happened to him. I told myself he’d just have joined the party, had too much to drink and would be walking home. But I couldn’t quite believe that. Then I thought maybe he’d had an accident, and I imagined him lying at the bottom of a cliff somewhere. Eventually I heard his car. I almost wept with relief.’ He turned to her. ‘This must seem so foolish to you. An overreaction. But it was the first real relationship of my life. I was desperate not to lose him.’

‘What time did he get in?’

‘Ten to three. I looked at the bedside clock when he pulled into the courtyard.’

So that would have been after Eleanor had sent her email to Polly. She might even have been dead by then. Looking out to sea, Willow saw that the mist had almost cleared. ‘Did he give you any explanation for why he was so late?’

‘I’ve told you: I pretended to be asleep. And I really was tired by then. It was the worry – heading out after him to Meoness when I was already shattered. Besides, we had guests staying and I knew I’d have to be up early to make breakfast. It wasn’t the time for a meaningful discussion.’

‘Did you talk to him about it in the morning?’

David shook his head. ‘If Charles had secrets, I wanted him to share them when he was ready. I didn’t want to pry.’

Which was all very well, Willow thought. All very adult and civilized. But it didn’t really help her track down the killer. ‘And Charles didn’t give any hint that he’d been out that night, or what he might have seen or done?’

‘No.’ David hesitated. ‘He seemed excited, pleased with himself. And then Sandy phoned with news of Eleanor’s death and to ask if your team could stay at Springfield House. I took the call and said we had space. All I was thinking of was the money and how useful it would be.’

‘How did Charles react when you told him that one of the hamefarin’ guests had been murdered?’

‘It was as if he couldn’t believe it. He asked me to repeat what I knew and pressed me for details that I couldn’t give. Then he was on the phone to Grusche, in case she knew more about it. He’s always been a gossip and I thought he was excited about Springfield being the base for a murder investigation, but I think there was more to it than that. He was desperate for information.’ David turned his face away from the fire and towards her. ‘Charles didn’t kill Eleanor Longstaff, Chief Inspector. The news of her death came as a surprise to him.’

Willow thought that was probably true. But she also thought Charles had seen something when he was out in Meoness that night, something that seemed important in the light of Eleanor’s death. And that knowledge had probably killed him.

Perez sent Sandy and Willow outside to search for Polly, but though he went to the door to see them out he remained inside the house. He was thinking of Polly, anxious and fraught, desperate. Caroline had moved to the window and was staring at the beach, as if her friend might suddenly appear through the mist. For a while Perez said nothing. He was glad of the chance to think. Then he moved further into the room and took a seat by the wood-burner.

‘I have a question,’ he said. Caroline turned back to face him, startled. Perhaps she thought he’d gone out with the others. ‘You saw Eleanor with another man in a restaurant in Bloomsbury. Who else did you tell about that?’

‘I only talked to Eleanor about it.’ Caroline’s voice was clear and certain. ‘I don’t really do gossip. I have enough to think about without that.’

There was a brief silence. Perez supposed he should be panicking and out searching with the others, but in this room he felt quite calm. The worst thing in the world that could happen to him had already occurred when Fran died. He thought he wouldn’t panic ever again. Unless someone threatened Cassie, and now he couldn’t let himself think about that happening. ‘That’s not entirely true, is it? For instance, you told your husband that you’d seen Eleanor with the man.’

‘Lowrie doesn’t count.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘We share everything.’

Really? I don’t think I shared everything with Fran.

‘But he might have spoken to someone else,’ Perez said. ‘His friend Ian, for example. Perhaps he’d think it was his duty to tell his friend that his wife was seeing someone else. Lowrie knew what Eleanor was like, after all. She’d messed him around big-style when he was a student. Perhaps he saw an opportunity to get his revenge.’

The silence stretched, so he thought she might be considering the matter seriously, but when Caroline spoke her voice was dismissive. ‘Lowrie got over being dumped by Eleanor years ago. We were students. That’s how students behave. He’s with me now. I was happy enough when we were just living together, and he was the one who wanted the wedding and the hamefarin’. He wanted to be married to me .’ She tapped the palm of her hand on the windowsill to make her point. ‘Honestly. He’s the one who cares so much about family.’

Perez thought about that. About all these complicated families. About Lowrie, who’d threatened to kill himself over a dark and exotic woman from the south. And about Polly, who had nobody but the man and the friends who’d come with her to Shetland. He was still thinking when he got to his feet and left the house without speaking to Caroline again. He stood outside, just where the track began, and listened. Nothing. He waited for his ears to tune into the tiny sounds all around him. He still had Caroline’s hard English voice in his head, and it took him a while to hear through the silence. The first sound to emerge was water. Always in Shetland there was the background noise of water on the shore or falling as rain. During the day you could usually hear sheep too. And wind, but tonight there was no wind at all.

His phone buzzed, shattering his attempt to listen properly. He moved further up the track. Despite what Caroline had said about despising gossip, he wouldn’t put it past her to eavesdrop through the door.

It was Mary Lomax and her words were tumbling over themselves, so for a minute he couldn’t make out what she was telling him. Then she became more coherent and explained that David Gordon had run away and she didn’t know where he’d gone. Perez thought this was a complication he could do without: all these people wandering around in the dark, all tense and jumpy. But there was no point blaming the police officer, and he cut into her apologies.

‘I’d like you to do something for me, Mary. Make a few phone calls. I know it’s late, but I think these folk will be awake. This is what I’d like to know.’ He spoke carefully and sensed that she was steadying on the other end of the phone. ‘There’s no need to ring me back. Just send me a text with your answer. Is that OK?’

As he switched off his mobile he thought he could hear children singing, but the tune faded away immediately and it could have been his imagination, or a strange echo from the phone.

Then he was still, waiting for his eyes and ears to adjust again, as he tried to put himself in the footsteps of the killer.

He climbed the bank behind the house to the overgrown bones of the farmstead close to the loch where Eleanor’s body had been found. He’d seen George Malcolmson standing here when he and Willow had gone to look inside Utra. From there Perez thought he’d get a sense of the space all around and, when the sun rose, he’d have a view north along the shore. As he watched he saw flames. Someone had lit a bonfire on the beach, probably to celebrate midsummer and the tilting of the year towards winter. Sparks were shooting into the sky like fireworks or an emergency flare. Perhaps people who had been eating in the boat club had decided they would carry on partying. The thought reassured him. If there were other people around, then there was surely less danger of another murder.