Ann Cleeves: Thin Air

Willow reached out and poured herself another dram. For all that she was lanky and awkward to look at, Perez thought there was a grace about the way she moved. He looked at the water again. The Hjatland was already out of his line of sight.

‘Why didn’t Lowrie tell us all about the hoax, when Eleanor’s body was found? There was no reason to keep it secret after that.’ It was Sandy again, full of common sense.

‘Because Grusche persuaded him that it would be a mistake and his involvement might turn him into a suspect. He wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind to make a rational decision. Bullied into marrying Caroline. Convinced by two strong women that his future lay in Shetland. And imagine the shock of finding Eleanor dead! The love of his life. His adolescent sweetheart. He’d grown up doing exactly what his mother wanted him to. This wasn’t going to be the time when he’d stand up to her.’

‘Do you think he guessed that Grusche was a killer?’

Perez hesitated. It was something he’d been thinking about since they’d first interviewed the woman. ‘Maybe. Deep down. But it wasn’t something he could afford to admit to himself.’

‘I still don’t quite understand what happened last night. All that unnecessary melodrama.’ Willow was lying flat on the floor now, and fibres from Perez’s shabby carpet had clung to her sweater. ‘Why did Grusche attack Polly? Where on earth did that come from?’

‘Lowrie had been convinced by his mother that the Peerie Lizzie scam must be kept secret at all costs. Grace was often knocking around in Meoness and it was freaking Polly out. The poor woman was really starting to believe in ghosts. And of course the girl was at the dinner in the boat club with Vaila and Neil and his boys. Polly must have thought she was going mad by that point, especially as Grace was in the dress she’d worn on the beach.’ Perez paused and pulled together the time-line in his head. ‘Grusche phoned Lowrie to offer them a lift back from the boat club, so that they wouldn’t have to walk in the fog. The sight of Grace was already making him jumpy and he told Grusche that she was there.’

Perez spoke slowly, explaining the events to himself as well as his audience. ‘The sight of the girl in the same room as Polly would have sent Lowrie into a panic. What shall I do? What will happen if Polly sees the girl, and Grace tells her everything? The police will want to know why I’ve been lying to them. And there might have been recriminations too: I should have gone to Jimmy Perez right at the start. I should have explained. Implying that it all this was his mother’s fault. And still Grusche would have been strong and reassuring: “Don’t worry, son. Leave it to me. I’ll sort it out.” Then Lowrie made another phone call to Voxter, after Polly went missing, and the tension increased. Grusche would have heard the fear in her son’s voice. “Polly’s disappeared. She chased after Grace. She just phoned Marcus to tell him what she was doing, that she’s seen Peerie Lizzie.” And again Grusche would have reassured him. She’d always looked after him and she would always provide the answers.’

Perez’s thoughts rushed back to the house by the shore, where he’d lived quite happily until Fran had swept him away to her home in Ravenswick, like flotsam on a big tide.

‘Grusche phoned Polly on her mobile and told her to go back to the boat club, where George would pick her up. That’s where George was, Sandy, when you went to visit Voxter. He wasn’t asleep in his room, but driving through the fog to do what his wife had told him. Half-asleep and more than half-drunk.’ A pause. ‘And by then Grusche thought she was invincible and that her only role in life was to protect her son.’

‘I’d wondered if Polly Gilmour was the killer,’ Sandy said. ‘She seemed so weird and distant most of the time. Spending her days reading old folk tales and legends. I thought it might have twisted her brain. It didn’t seem like a real job for a grown woman.’

‘Not like teaching, you mean?’ Willow gave an innocent smile, but Sandy blushed to the roots of his hair.

Perez grinned. Sandy got awkwardly to his feet. ‘I’m away home to my bed.’ He shambled out of the house without looking back. The house was quiet again.

‘What are your plans?’ Perez felt suddenly uncomfortable, with Willow lying almost at his feet. It was as if Sandy had left them alone on purpose, a tactless kind of match-making.

‘I’m booked on the first plane in the morning.’

There was an awkward silence and Willow broke it first.

‘When did you know, Jimmy, that Grusche was the killer?’

‘I didn’t know until I saw her in the kitchen at Voxter with her arm round Polly’s neck.’

‘But you suspected. You had a very good idea.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Grusche was a kind of friend,’ Perez said. ‘She was always talking about her son, and there was nothing wrong in that. I thought it a splendid thing that she was so proud of him. Then, this time, the way she looked when she was speaking about him made me feel uncomfortable. It was as if she was living her life through her boy. She was too intense.’ And that’s a lesson for me, perhaps .

‘You could have talked to me, Jimmy. There was no need to wait until you were certain you were right. That’s what colleagues do. Share their uncertainties and their ideas. I don’t like feeling shut out.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Perez said. ‘I was trying to work it all out in my head. I didn’t want you to think I was a fool. All that stuff about ghosts was making me a peerie bit paranoid too…’

Willow got to her feet. He wondered if she was going to walk out on him, just as Sandy had done. Without looking back. Then she laughed. ‘Put the kettle on, Jimmy Perez. Let’s have some more coffee and another dram. We’re at the end of this investigation and we’ve plenty to celebrate.’

The next morning Perez and Cassie gave Willow a lift to Sumburgh. They dropped her at the airport and she swung her bag out of the boot and walked away with just a little wave. Cassie jumped into the front seat beside Jimmy, because it was only a short drive from there to the pier at Grutness, where the Good Shepherd would arrive from Fair Isle. Perez had slept well and felt rested and oddly calm, better than he had since Fran’s death. He and Cassie climbed the low headland together and watched the boat approaching from the south.

They were the only passengers. The Shepherd had a reputation for making folk seasick and most visitors into the Isle chose to fly these days. But there were provisions for the shop to load and some equipment for the bird observatory. Perez helped the crew and Cassie waited, very serious and a little apart, until his father, the skipper, called her aboard.

‘Will you come into the wheelhouse with me and Jimmy, lass? We’ve only had one female crew member before, and I’m thinking that it’s about time that we had another. And this is a bit special, isn’t it?’

So she stood between them and watched the misty outline of Fair Isle become clearer, until they could make out the North Lighthouse and the wedge of Sheep Craig. James told her what he was doing and the hours passed very quickly. Then they were so close to the cliffs that they could make out individual kittiwakes and razorbills and they rounded the headland into the North Haven. And the whole island was there to meet them.

Ann Cleeves is the author behind ITV’s Vera and BBC One’s Shetland . She has written over twenty-five novels, and is the creator of detectives Vera Stanhope and Jimmy Perez – characters loved both on screen and in print. Her books have now sold over one million copies worldwide.