Ann Cleeves - Cold Earth

This was a solid and well-built house, but the wind must have found its way through small cracks because she could feel the draught eddying around her ankles as she made her way downstairs. She refused to wonder if Andy was home. Much better to believe that he was still in Lerwick, having crashed at a friend’s flat. That way she wouldn’t be disappointed. Much better to make a cup of tea, sit in the warmth of the Aga and plan the small routines of the day. That way she could keep the panic at bay.

When she reached the ground floor there was a chill and the breeze was even fiercer. Sometimes a north-westerly wind blew out the Aga and she thought that must have happened again. It would be a nuisance to relight it and she thought she could do without the bother. Then she realized that the door to the yard was open. They never locked it, but the catch was strong and it had never blown open before. She shut it firmly and went into the kitchen. Andy was sitting at the table. His arms were crossed in front of him and his head was resting on them. She couldn’t tell if he was dead or just sleeping and for a moment she couldn’t move. Then he lifted his head and with unfocused eyes stared towards her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry.’

When Sandy got to the police station Willow and Perez were already there. He checked his watch when he saw them, just to make sure he wasn’t late. Most days Jimmy tried to drop Cassie at school, so usually Sandy was at work first. They all sat in the ops room for what Willow called morning prayers, but what he knew as a briefing. She and Jimmy seemed kind of dazed. Perhaps it was because they’d been bombarded the evening before with new revelations and revised theories; Sandy soon had a sense that the direction of the case had changed completely.

‘Had you heard any of these rumours, Sandy? About Tom Rogerson arranging girls for the men in the floatels. And for anyone else who’ll pay him.’

Sandy shook his head. ‘But folk are careful what they say in front of me. You know what it’s like, Jimmy.’ Then he thought Perez might not know what it was like to have conversations in bars suddenly stop as he was approaching. Forced laughter. Over-elaborate descriptions of the stories that were being told before he’d walked in. Perez had never been very social, even before Fran’s death. Recently he scarcely left the house in the evening unless it was for work.

‘What do you think about the Shetlanders on the list? Are they likely candidates, do you think, for Rogerson’s services?’

‘Maybe.’ Sandy thought if he hadn’t met Louisa, he might have been one of the lonely men on the list in ten years’ time. ‘I’m surprised by Kevin Hay, though. I always thought he was very happy with his wife.’

‘Perhaps the happy-family thing just wasn’t enough for him,’ Willow said. ‘Perhaps that was what Agnew was trying to tell me.’

Jimmy Perez shot her a look, but he didn’t reply directly. ‘We need to get one of these men to talk. Any idea who’d be willing to speak to us, Sandy?’

‘I can’t see even the single guys who come from the islands wanting to admit that they’ve been using a prostitute.’ He felt himself blushing just at the thought of it. He wouldn’t want to interview any of them. ‘Maybe you’re best targeting the oilies.’

‘I’ve checked,’ Willow said. ‘They don’t all stay in the floatels in Scalloway or Lerwick. A good number give their local address as the new hotel near Sullom.’

‘That might explain what Alison Teal was doing in Brae just before she died.’ Perez seemed to have woken up a bit. He leaned forward across the table. ‘She was there for work.’ He paused and it was if Sandy could see his brain working. ‘Either on her own account, to interview potential clients, or to recruit more girls for the business.’

Sandy remembered visiting the hotel and passing round an image of the dead woman the day after her death. He’d sensed some of the staff had recognized her. Perhaps she’d paid them to let her work there and to keep quiet about it. ‘So we definitely think she was working for Tom Rogerson?’

‘Well, they were certainly connected in some way. We’re pretty sure that Tom collected her from the Co-op that day, aren’t we? He must have known what she was up to.’

There was a moment of silence broken by the wind outside. There was a sudden sharp shower and the rain was blown like gravel on the window, so hard that Sandy thought the glass might smash.

‘They must have kept in touch.’ Willow’s voice was as hard and sharp as the rain. ‘Rogerson and Alison. From that first meeting years ago, when Alison went missing and turned up in the Ravenswick Hotel. It’s the only explanation. And I can’t believe there’s no evidence of that. Even if she didn’t come back to see Rogerson, he must have gone south to meet her. There’ll be hotel receipts, plane, boat and train tickets. She’ll have talked to her family and friends about him.’ She looked round the table. ‘I’ve been onto the prison where Jono, her brother, is being held. Alison’s visited a few times. They lost touch for a while when he first went into the army, but there’s obviously been contact since then. Let’s get him on the phone and find out what he knows.’ She paused for breath. ‘I’ll get on to that.’

Perez seemed about to speak, but she was still issuing her instructions. There seemed to be something different about her today too, but Sandy couldn’t quite work out what it was. Maybe she was slightly more distant with Perez. Perhaps they’d fallen out. ‘Jimmy and Sandy, you go north and visit the Sullom Hotel. Get a couple of guys on Rogerson’s list to talk to you. We know the oil and gas companies have a “one strike and you’re out” policy here in Shetland, so assure them that we’ll be discreet, as long as they come clean with us. If they tell us what was really going on, they won’t lose their jobs.’ She looked around the table. ‘Any questions?’

Perez shook his head and Sandy followed.

‘Then head up to Sullom and bring back some evidence that Alison Teal and Tom Rogerson were working together. That’ll be a start. Without that, this whole theory crumbles to pieces.’

Perez drove north towards Brae, with Sandy in the passenger seat beside him. Sandy had been looking forward to the time they’d have on their own together. It would be like old times, just the two of them, with Jimmy Perez talking through his ideas about the case and Sandy occasionally throwing in some notions of his own. But today Perez drove in silence. The rain and the wind made driving tricky, but even so, Perez still seemed in a world of his own. Sandy thought again that perhaps he and Willow had been arguing about the investigation before he’d arrived at the station that morning.

Perez showed his warrant card at reception and asked to speak to the first man on the list. He was called Stephen Barnes, he was a civil engineer and his home address was in Carlisle.

‘I’m sorry, but he checked out this morning.’ The receptionist was bland and unmoved. His English was perfect, but there was a slight accent. ‘Most of the men on your list checked out on Monday, but he was delayed. A problem at work, I believe.’

Sandy wondered if it was a coincidence that most of the men who were possible clients of Alison Teal had left the islands, once news of her death had been released. Jimmy Perez always said that he didn’t believe in coincidence.

Now Jimmy was replying to the receptionist. He was just as polite, but there was a steely tone to his voice.

‘There are no flights from Scatsta this morning,’ Perez said. Most of the oil- and gas-related flights left from the airfield at Scatsta, very close to the terminals. ‘Not in this dreadful weather. I assume that Mr Barnes is still in the hotel.’