Ann Cleeves - Cold Earth

‘You think the killer took Rogerson’s mobile?’ Sandy was back in bouncy puppy mode. Excitable. He’d let slip that he’d dropped in on Perez, but had given no details.

Willow shrugged. ‘If so, I doubt we’ll ever find it. Easy enough to chuck it into the tide, if the killer didn’t want anyone to know that they’d called.’ She stood up and picked up her coat. ‘I’m going to talk to Mavis Rogerson. She’ll have Tom’s number.’

She found Mavis in the big house near the park. She was alone. ‘I sent my sister back to Kirkwall. I couldn’t stand her fussing.’ She stood aside to let Willow into the house.

‘We could go out,’ Willow said. ‘Coffee and cake. My treat.’

‘Nah.’ Mavis gave a little smile. ‘People just want to tell me how sorry they are for my loss. They didn’t have much good to say about Tom when he was alive. It sticks in my craw now he’s dead. Besides, I’ve been baking.’

They sat in the kitchen and she switched on the kettle. There were scones cooling on a wire tray on the table. ‘I can’t seem to stop cooking,’ she said. ‘Since you took me out and bought me cake that day. It’s something to do. Kathryn took a batch into school today for the bairns.’

‘I wanted to ask you about Tom’s phone numbers. It’s always something we check. I’ve got his work number from his office, but they don’t have his personal one. And he didn’t have his phone with him when we found him.’

‘Sure.’ Mavis took a mobile from her bag, searched for the number and handed the phone to Willow, who copied the number into her own contact list. She pressed Call just in case, but there was no ring tone anywhere in the house.

‘Did you phone him on Saturday morning when he was waiting for his flight?’

‘No.’ A pause. ‘I didn’t call him much. He didn’t always answer, and then I’d start imagining what he might be up to.’

‘Why did you stay with him for all that time, when he treated you so badly?’ Willow couldn’t help asking the question. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be in a relationship with someone it was impossible to trust.

‘I don’t know. Maybe I don’t think sex is that important?’ Another pause. ‘And I liked all the things that came with being his wife. This house. Nice holidays. Social events. And his company. He was such good company.’ She turned away from Willow to make instant coffee. ‘Sometimes I thought the sex was an illness. Like an addiction. That maybe if he got help, he could stop. Then other times I thought it wasn’t about the sex at all, but it was the admiration he needed. That there were things he needed that I couldn’t give.’

‘It was never your fault.’ Willow took a mug of coffee and blew across the surface.

‘Aye, maybe.’ Not really believing it.

They sat for a moment in silence.

‘Do you know the Hays at Gilsetter?’

‘Kevin and Jane?’ Mavis split a couple of scones and buttered them, passed a plate to Willow. They were still warm and the butter began to melt. ‘I’ve met them a few times, but we’re not pals. I know the boy better.’

‘Which boy?’ Willow kept her voice even, but in her head she was Sandy, dancing around the room in anticipation.

‘Andy, the oldest one. He was at the house a few times when Kathryn was at school and in college.’

‘But she’d be older than him.’

‘Six or seven years, maybe.’ Mavis was eating a scone with intense concentration.

‘That’s a big gap between friends when you’re a teenager.’

‘They weren’t friends exactly.’ Mavis put down the scone and tried to find the words she needed. ‘Andy was more like a pet.’

‘A pet?’

‘Kathryn took up with him when he started at the Youth Theatre. He was the youngest there and she was one of the oldest. Maybe “pet” is the wrong word. He was more like a mascot. He played up to the big ones, showing off and making them laugh. Tom liked having the young people around.’ She paused. ‘Maybe it made him feel not quite so old. Or perhaps he just enjoyed staring at the bonnie lasses. Sometimes they held informal rehearsals here; sometimes they just came back for supper afterwards.’

‘When did you last see Andy?’ Willow thought this was another connection, another colour for the mind-map on the board.

‘Just before Christmas. He’d dropped out of uni and wanted to ask Kathryn’s advice. He was thinking about applying to drama school and wondered what Kathryn thought of the idea.’ Mavis smiled. ‘I hadn’t seen him since he was about twelve years old and I hardly recognized him. He’s got so skinny, and those dreadful piercings on his face.’

‘Was Tom here then?’

‘I think he was out at a meeting and came in just as the boy was leaving.’

‘They had a row in the street, the week before Tom died.’ Willow resisted the temptation to take another scone. ‘Any idea what that might have been about?’

Mavis shook her head. ‘Tom didn’t really do confrontation. He wanted everyone to like him. If there was an argument, the boy will have provoked it.’

Willow tried to think through the implication of Andy’s friendship with Kathryn Rogerson. Did it really have any significance? In a place like Shetland perhaps there were always going to be unexpected connections. She stood up. ‘Thanks for the number. If you come across the phone, just give me a shout.’

‘It was good of you to come.’ Mavis followed Willow out into the dark hall. ‘You seem to understand. Everyone thinks of Tom as a monster. Or a bit of a joke. It’s hard to grieve for him when everyone thought so badly of him. There’s nobody to talk to.’

‘There’s always Kathryn,’ Willow said. ‘She seems to have loved him.’

There was a moment of silence. ‘Ah yes, Kathryn.’ There was a pause. ‘She’s very much her father’s daughter.’

Jane stood at the kitchen window watching out for Jimmy Perez and Cassie. She was already regretting the impulse that had made her invite them back to the house. What was the point, when she’d already decided it was too soon to tell Jimmy that she was anxious about her son? Beyond the polytunnel she could see the lights on Kevin’s tractor. This was his new project: he was digging a drainage ditch to save them from the water that he was convinced would soon sweep down the valley again. He’d been at it all day, but the light was fading and Jane thought he’d surely stop soon. She hoped he’d be in before Perez and Cassie arrived. He had an easy way with children and she would feel less awkward if he was around.

She was thinking again that Kevin would make a brilliant grandfather when there was a tap on the door. It had started raining again, a soft misty drizzle that had been invisible from the house. Perez and the child stood hand-in-hand, hoods up.

‘Come in,’ she said. ‘You’ll catch your deaths. We’ll give you a lift up the bank when you’ve had some tea.’ Sounding, she thought, almost normal.

Perez took off Cassie’s jacket and hung it up, before removing his own. ‘You’re on your own today?’

‘Kevin will be in soon,’ she said, ‘and Michael’s staying in Lerwick with his girlfriend tonight.’

‘What about Andy?’

She gave a little laugh that she knew was unconvincing. ‘Ah, we never know where Andy is these days.’ She switched on the kettle. ‘Would you rather tea or coffee, Jimmy? And I have orange juice, if Cassie would like it.’

She didn’t hear his answer first time round, because she was suddenly lost in her own thoughts. ‘I’m sorry, Jimmy, what did you say?’ Feeling foolish – the socially incompetent woman with the dirt ingrained into her fingers.