Cold Earth

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Willow parked in the street at the top of the lane. A group of English men spilled out of the Chinese restaurant opposite the library and walked away towards the pier, shouting and laughing. Willow supposed they were heading for one of the floatels moored in the harbour. The barges looked like prisons and she thought it must be an odd, unnatural life, cooped up with the people you also worked with. She took the narrow path that led down to her B&B. There was a thin slice of moon and the lane was already icy. The house was separated from the path by a stone wall, with an arched wooden gate that led into a garden sufficiently sheltered to allow sycamores to grow. The bare branches of the trees were covered in hoar frost.

There was a light in the basement kitchen and she saw the couple who ran the place inside. The woman was sitting by the Aga with her feet on a low stool, her hands on her swollen belly. The man was ironing. There seemed to be a snatch of conversation between them, because the man laughed. Willow shouted down to them, so that they would know she was in, and then made her way up the stairs to her room. She couldn’t face sitting with her hosts, even though she would have liked a cup of tea and knew that they’d be great company.

There was a window in the roof that sloped almost to the floor on the longest side of her bedroom. She pulled up the blind and saw the lights of Lerwick below her, and the late ferry on its way back from Bressay. She supposed she should be thinking about the investigation, worrying over the details of alibis and motivation. But she was too distracted. Before Sandy had burst into Perez’s house, there’d been a strange moment of intimacy between her and Jimmy. It had started with a domestic crisis. She’d arrived earlier than he’d expected and she’d caught him pulling damp washing out of the machine.

‘Sorry, I’m not really ready for you.’ He’d grinned. ‘The tumble dryer’s bust. I’ll have to stick this stuff on a clothes horse by the fire. Not exactly attractive, with guests in the house, but Cassie’ll have nothing to wear for school…’

‘Sandy and I aren’t real guests!’

‘All the same…’

‘Turn off the big light and stick some candles on the table,’ she’d said. ‘Then we’ll not notice.’ He’d done as she’d suggested. ‘There you are,’ she’d said, ‘we could be having a romantic dinner now.’

There’d been a long silence before he’d spoken. ‘Perhaps we should do that one day.’

It had seemed so out of character that she hadn’t been sure she’d heard properly at first. But he’d been staring at her: all the intensity that was usually focused on work directed at her. She’d moved towards him, so she was close enough to smell the washing powder on his hands as well as the peat on the fire. ‘I’d like that,’ she’d said. ‘I’d really like that.’

‘Maybe when Cassie’s at her father’s. I’ll make sure there’s no washing in the room.’

She’d been about to say that she wouldn’t care at all about that, when they’d heard Sandy stomping up the path outside and the door had opened.

Now, she wondered if she’d misinterpreted the situation. Perhaps Jimmy Perez had been joking and when she’d taken him up on his offer, he was just being kind, to go along with it. She’d never met a man who could do kind as well as him. While she was undressing and cleaning her teeth, and when she was lying in the soft bed, she dreamed of the dark-haired man, haunted by him.

Willow woke the next morning full of energy and oddly content. The space in the loft bedroom seemed perfect for yoga and she allowed her mind to calm while she stretched and held the poses. Perez intruded only occasionally. It was too early to wake the rest of the house, but there was Wi-Fi in the room and she started in motion the bureaucracy that would enable her to access Tom Rogerson’s bank accounts. When she heard someone moving around in the room below, she went downstairs for breakfast. The man was there, and already there was the smell of coffee.

‘Only me this morning.’ John was setting cereals and fruit on the long scrubbed table. ‘Rosie had a bad night.’

‘Is she OK?’

‘Fine. It’s just a bit uncomfortable, now she’s so big, so I said she should have a lie-in. I can manage scrambled eggs, if you’d like some. My signature dish when I was a student.’

‘When’s the baby due?’

‘Not for a week. And first babies are always late, aren’t they? That’s what everyone says.’

Willow found herself hoping that the child would arrive while she was still staying with the family. She was curious to see a newborn; thought she might take a vicarious pleasure in the warmth and the strange routines. At the breakfast table, she pondered the rest of her day and decided she didn’t want to go straight to the police station. Perez might feel a bit awkward to see her, after his invitation of the previous evening. She poured herself more coffee and sent him a text:

I’m going to talk to Simon Agnew in the manse at Ravenswick. Not sure Sandy asked all the right questions. If Agnew is Jane’s friend, he might be able to throw some light on what’s going on with the Hay family.

There was an answering text almost immediately:

Sounds like a good plan. I’ll send Sandy up to Brae to chat to his contact in the Co-op. Good luck with Agnew!

She read the message several times and found herself grinning like some sort of lovesick schoolgirl. It didn’t sound as if Jimmy was offended; indeed, the tone was almost cheery. She ate the landlord’s perfectly adequate (though rather dry) scrambled eggs and left the house.

Willow drove south into sunlight. The ice on the roads was melting where the gritting lorry had passed through, but it was still very cold outside. The hire car she was using had a temperamental heating system and she shivered all the way to Ravenswick. As she passed Perez’s house she could tell that he’d already left for Lerwick; there was no vehicle parked outside. The old manse where Agnew lived formed part of the scattered settlement of Ravenswick that spread out towards the southern headland that circled the bay. It was a square grey building tucked into the bank, close to a small loch. The kirk where Mavis and Kathryn had come to morning service stood next to it. Its nearest neighbour was Gilsetter, where the Hays farmed.

Willow hadn’t phoned in advance; the decision to visit had been made on impulse and she hoped it was still sufficiently early for Agnew to be at home. There was a garage by the side of the house, but a red VW was parked on the flat grass by the front door. Willow stopped beside it, stepped out of the car and rang the bell.

The door was opened almost immediately. Willow was taller than most men, but she had to look up at Simon Agnew.

‘Can I help you?’ Easy, confident. Her father had been like that before the commune had disintegrated in acrimony and his dreams of saving the world had faded.

Willow introduced herself.

‘Another representative of Police Scotland. I’m honoured.’ Not sarcastic, but playful. ‘Come in. I’ve just made some coffee.’

‘I know you’ve spoken to my colleagues, but I’m afraid I have more questions.

‘Of course, these dreadful murders.’

He led her inside. From the outside it looked like a traditional Scottish manse, but he’d knocked through two rooms, so the kitchen was lit by three sash windows facing the loch. There was a lot of light wood and sunshine. He must have sensed her admiration. ‘I got a local guy to build the units for me.’ He poured coffee and they sat at the table.

‘Looks like a good room for a party.’

‘Well, there’ve been quite a few of those.’

‘Did Tom Rogerson come along to any of them?’

He paused for a moment. ‘Once or twice. He was here just after Christmas with his family.’ He looked up. ‘You know his daughter’s the teacher here.’

Willow nodded.

‘Kathryn’s a lovely young woman.’

‘I wanted to ask you about Jane and Kevin Hay. Both victims were found close to their land.’

‘Close to my land too, if it comes to that.’ He got up and poured himself more coffee. She thought he’d be a person who found it hard to be still. ‘I’m sorry, Inspector, but Kevin and Jane are good friends. Generally I love to gossip, but I get a bit squeamish when it comes to chatting about my friends’ problems to the police.’

‘Do they have problems?’

He hesitated for a moment and she thought he might be tempted to confide in her after all. Then he thought better of it and laughed. ‘We all have problems, Inspector. What’s important is how we deal with them.’ That could have been her father too. He’d always been full of words of wisdom that sounded deep, but were actually trite and banal.

‘What problem do you have, Mr Agnew?’

‘Oh, I’m terrified of boredom. Always have been. When I’m bored I get up to mischief.’

‘What brought you to Shetland then? It’s not the most exciting place in the world.’ Willow thought this was an odd conversation to be having with a witness, but under the lightness and banter she suspected he had something useful to say.

‘I’ve always loved it. I came here as a boy, before the oil, and I always promised myself that I’d retire here.’ He looked out of the nearest long window to the loch. ‘And it is dramatic, even if it’s not exciting. I’ve been here for ten years now, made friends and put down roots. I know I’ll never leave.’ A grin. ‘But I’m always on the lookout for new projects, new adventures.’

‘Was that why you started Befriending Shetland?’

‘Maybe. But there is a need, you know. When I first got here I thought I’d find an ideal community. Close. A place where people would support each other in times of crisis. Of course that’s largely true. But shame’s a big factor in a place like this. It can be a very destructive emotion. Sometimes it’s hard to admit that one isn’t surviving so well and it’s easier to talk to a stranger. I had the skills and training to meet that need.’

‘Have you had any further thoughts on what might have led Alison Teal to contact you?’

‘I have been thinking about it.’ Agnew closed his eyes for a moment. ‘I had the impression it was very much an impulsive call. Perhaps she was in the town and saw our office. Or saw our advertisement in The Shetland Times. And when she met me, she thought I wasn’t a person who could help her.’ He gave a little shrug. ‘Sometimes it happens.’

‘So tell me a bit more about the Hays,’ Willow said. ‘Jimmy Perez thinks they’re a perfect family.’

‘Ah well, Jimmy idealizes the family, don’t you think? He’s always looking for perfect examples. I’m not sure that Fran could have met his standards, if she’d lived. It’s easy to turn a dead person into a saint.’

‘You knew Fran?’

A brief grin. ‘She was a guest at some of my parties too.’

Willow wanted to ask for details, but stopped herself in time. Jimmy would never forgive her if he found out she’d been prying.

‘And the Hays?’

‘Well, Jane doesn’t drink of course. You’ll have picked up that piece of gossip by now. But she comes along and she still has a good time.’ He paused. ‘She’s a very special woman. I admire her.’

‘What about Kevin?’

‘There’s more to Kevin than most people think. It can’t be easy to be the partner of an alcoholic. Very few relationships survive.’ Again she thought he might elaborate, but he turned away again.

‘Do you know the boys?’

‘I knew them better when they were younger. Kevin was busy on the farm when they were growing up, and I love kids, so they were always welcome here. Just to hang out, to give Kevin and Jane a bit of time to themselves. I enjoy wild swimming and I persuaded them along a few times. Once I took them down to Edinburgh for the festival. I’m not sure what Michael made of it, but Andy had a ball.’ He pulled a clown’s sad face. ‘I never had children. My one big regret.’

‘Did you know them when Jane was still drinking?’

‘No, she’d stopped by the time I moved up.’ He looked at her over the coffee cup. ‘I didn’t take her up as a good cause, if that’s what you’re thinking, or because I thought the kids needed protecting. I’ve never had any problems separating work from my private life. I enjoy her company. She’s fun to be with.’

‘Any idea why Andy left university?’

Agnew shook his head. ‘We stopped being so close a while ago. Jane talks about them, of course. Children must always be a worry, even when they’re old enough to be independent.’

‘What do they do now to make Jane worry?’

He opened his mouth to speak at once and Willow thought that at last she might get something useful from the conversation.

But Agnew only smiled. ‘I think that’s something you’ll have to ask Jane, Inspector, don’t you?’