Ann Cleeves - Cold Earth

There was a moment of complete silence in the room while Perez considered the question. ‘I don’t know,’ he said at last. ‘Maybe it’s best to keep an open mind.’

‘Magnus? Could he have written it before his stroke?’

This time Perez answered more quickly. ‘I know Magnus’s writing and I don’t think it’s his. We have the notebooks, though, and we can get them checked.’

Sandy reached out for the last chocolate biscuit. Willow thought he’d been eyeing it up for some time, waiting to see if anyone else wanted it, but now his arm shot out quickly, like the tongue of a fat snake. ‘So what are the plans for today?’

Willow got in before Perez. ‘We find out what Alison Teal had been doing since she last turned up in Shetland. I want to know everything about her. Work, family life, medical history. And Jimmy and I are going to visit a lawyer.’

It was Sunday, so the solicitors’ office in Commercial Street would be shut. Perez and Willow were still in the ops room; Sandy had returned to his office. ‘How do you want to play this?’ Willow wandered around the big table collecting rubbish and taking it to the bin, piling up cups. She was restless and couldn’t keep still. ‘You know the man, and I’ve never met him. Should we phone him first to warn him that we’re coming?’ She came to a stop and watched Perez.

‘I’m not sure,’ he said at last. There was a silence while he thought the idea through and then he chose his words. ‘Tom’s a committee man. A councillor. He has influence in the islands. Best to follow procedure, show some respect.’ Another pause. ‘Besides, he’s kind of slippery. I don’t think anyone really understands him, except maybe his family.’ Perez looked out of the window, before speaking again. ‘I know his daughter. Kathryn. She works at the Ravenswick school. She teaches Cassie.’

Willow thought that was another complication. It was always that way in a Shetland investigation; within the islands there was a web of relationships, personal and professional, blurred. Perez would feel awkward upsetting the Rogersons, because their daughter cared for his beloved Cassie. He wouldn’t let that get in the way of his work, but he’d be aware of it, over-compensating at times.

‘So you think we should ring first?’ Willow was starting to lose patience. She wanted to be away from the confines of the police station; it was time to start asking questions, to dig around in the solicitor’s life, to make it less comfortable.

‘It would be more polite.’

‘And who should do that, Jimmy? You or me? Let’s just get on with it, shall we?’

Again he took a moment to consider. ‘I’ll do it,’ he said in the end. ‘It would seem too formal coming from you and it might scare him off.’ He took his mobile from his jacket pocket and scrolled down the contacts list to find the number. In the corridor outside, somebody walked along whistling.

The phone rang for such a long time that Willow was expecting a recorded voicemail to kick in. But Perez hung on and, when it was answered, it soon became clear to her that it was Rogerson’s wife. Perez sat down at the corner of the conference table.

‘Hello, Mavis. I’m sorry to catch you at this ungodly hour on a Sunday.’

Willow couldn’t hear the response, but Perez gave a little chuckle. ‘No, it’s not Kathryn I’m after today, so you can let her have her beauty sleep. I was hoping we might have a couple of words with Tom. It’s kind of work-related and we’d like to ask his advice about something to do with this dead woman. We wondered if we could come round and disturb you. Relieve you of some of that baking maybe.’

Willow thought Perez was brilliant at this. The woman would be disarmed.

‘I see, I see.’ Perez pulled a face at Willow. This obviously wasn’t going to be as easy as simply bowling up to the Rogerson house and talking to the man. ‘And when are you expecting him back?’

A response from Mavis on the other end of the line.

‘So maybe the best thing would be to make an appointment to see him at the office on Tuesday morning. Do you have a mobile number for him? Yes, I understand reception can be a bit tricky there, but I might strike lucky, huh?’ Perez reached out for a pad left on the table after a previous meeting and scribbled down the number. ‘Goodbye, Mavis. And thanks to you and Kathryn for your help with Cassie last week. I appreciate it.’

‘Well?’ Willow was starting to think Rogerson was the key to the whole case. She was convinced now that he was the man who’d collected Alison Teal from the Co-op in Brae the day before the landslide.

‘He’s away to Orkney apparently. There’s an EU fisheries meeting there tomorrow and he won’t be home until the last flight on Monday.’

‘Convenient.’ Willow knew she sounded like a spoilt child but couldn’t help herself. ‘Why the need to fly down so early, if the meeting isn’t until tomorrow.’

‘According to Mavis, he has friends in Kirkwall. He was using the business trip as an excuse to catch up with them. She’s given me his business mobile number. She says that’s the one he’ll answer.’

Willow began to pace up and down the room again, trying to ease away her frustration with the movement.

‘Do you want me to phone him and get him back here?’ Perez waved the scrap of paper with the scribbled number. ‘He should be able to get on a plane today and take an early flight back to Orkney tomorrow morning before the meeting, if it’s so important that he’s there. Or we could go to Orkney to talk to him .’

Willow was tempted by that suggestion. She liked the idea of a dramatic chase down to Sumburgh to get onto a flight, visiting a group of islands unfamiliar to her, but she shook her head. ‘We don’t want Rogerson to think he’s that important to us. He’s a lawyer. As you say, slippery. Let’s use the extra days to find out a bit more about him, so that when we do meet we have something concrete to put to him.’

She wandered over to the window, then turned back to face the room and Jimmy Perez. ‘Let’s set up a meeting with his partner. Did you say his name was Taylor?’

Perez nodded. ‘Paul Taylor.’

‘Wasn’t he the person who drew up Minnie Laurenson’s will? It would make sense, if he kept the keys to Tain. Besides, it would be good to get his perspective on his colleague before we meet up with Rogerson next week.’

Perez nodded.

Glancing back at the window, Willow saw that a rainbow was throwing its stained-glass colours across the grey street below.

They arrived late morning at Paul Taylor’s house and it was clearly a bad time to roll up. The solicitor had three young boys and they were fractious and bored, rolling around on the floor fighting.

‘I was just about to take them to the leisure centre.’ Taylor’s voice was English and tense. ‘Let them get rid of some of that energy in the pool. This time of year they seem to be stuck indoors all day.’ He looked out of the window as another shower blew against the glass.

His wife was in the kitchen, slamming pans. A dining table was already laid. Tablecloth and glasses, place settings for seven. ‘My parents came up for Up Helly Aa and decided to spend a little time in the islands. They’re staying in a hotel – for obvious reasons, they find that more civilized – but we’ve invited them to Sunday lunch…’ His voice tailed off again. Perez understood. His first wife, Sarah, had been a great one for family rituals, but always ended up resenting the effort involved.

‘We won’t take long.’ Willow sidestepped a flailing arm from the tangled heap on the floor and sat down on the sofa. This was a modern house in Gulberswick, a village just to the south of Lerwick and a prime commuting location. Large living room and four bedrooms, double garage and utility room. It would have fetched a southern price. ‘Just a few questions.’