Cold Earth

Chapter Thirty

The meeting with the Fiscal took longer than Perez had thought and he expected Willow to have gone for lunch without him. But when he hurried into the ops room, she was still waiting for him.

‘I have a lot of news. Mostly down to Sandy’s persistence and hard work.’ She’d swept her wild hair to one side so that he could see the bare skin of her neck on the other.

Perez looked away. ‘Have you eaten?’

She shook her head. ‘I ordered lemon cake in the Peerie Shop Cafe, but I sacrificed it to a greater good. I’m starving.’

He tried to think of a good place to take her to eat, but in the end they bought fish and chips and ate them out of the wind in the shelter of the Garrison, hidden from view in a corner between two grey walls. He put his jacket down so they could sit on the grass and felt suddenly that he was in one of the dens that he’d built when he was a bairn. There was the same sense of being hidden away from the rest of the world. ‘Shall I start?’

‘Why not, Inspector?’ She was licking the grease from her fingers, rolled the paper into a ball and carefully put it into her pocket.

‘Did Sandy tell you his contact recognized two men who were in Mareel the night Alison was there?’

Willow shook her head. ‘He was too distracted by the information that came in later.’

‘Alison was having a drink with Rogerson’s partner, Paul Taylor, but Kevin Hay was in the building too. Sandy and I chatted to Taylor in his office.’

‘And?’ A gust of wind blew a strand of Willow’s hair across her face.

‘Taylor claims it was a chance meeting with Alison in Mareel. He was there because he’d had a bad day at the office, and she was lonely and looking for a sympathetic ear.’

‘Sounds like a weird coincidence,’ Willow said. ‘Do you believe him?’

Perez thought about that while he watched the herring gulls in the clear sky above them. ‘I think I do.’

He listened while Willow described her conversation with Simon Agnew in Ravenswick. ‘He wasn’t giving away much about the Hays, but I had the impression he thought the relationship wasn’t as perfect as they liked to make out.’

‘So it could be relevant that Kevin Hay was in Mareel at the same time as Alison?’

‘You think he might have been following her?’ Willow said. ‘Stalking even?’

‘I don’t think we have enough information even to make a guess.’

‘Could Alison have had a relationship with Kevin when she ran away to Shetland fifteen years ago? We’ve assumed that the letter in Tain was written by Rogerson, but we haven’t had confirmation back on the handwriting yet.’

Perez considered. ‘The Hays were living in Gilsetter then. Two small bairns, and Jane was still drinking. It wouldn’t have been an easy time. You can see how he might have fallen for an attractive stranger staying in the hotel.’

‘Why don’t you talk to him, Jimmy?’ Willow leaned forward and again he could see the skin on her neck. There was a light scattering of freckles. ‘He might open up more to a man.’

‘Cassie’s father’s back in Shetland today.’ Duncan Hunter was Cassie’s natural father and he’d been away from the islands for some weeks. ‘She was going to stay with him tonight anyway. I’ll call down to the Hays this evening and see if I can talk to Kevin on his own.’

‘Find out why he was paying money into Tom Rogerson’s secret bank account!’

‘He was what?’

‘I got authorization to get information on Rogerson’s accounts. Sandy had all the statements when I got back from Ravenswick this morning.’ Willow explained in detail what they’d discovered. ‘I chatted to Mavis Rogerson, but she claims to know nothing about the payments. Any idea what might have been going on? Sandy’s theory is council corruption, but I’m not quite sure what Hay might have to gain from that.’

‘It sounds more like blackmail.’ Perez thought this shifted the whole perspective on the case. Money was a motive he could understand. ‘If Rogerson had found out that Hay and Alison were lovers, and threatened to tell Jane.’ He imagined how that would have been for Kevin. The woman living just across the field from him in Tain – had he become obsessed by her, only to find out she was part of some sort of extortion scam with Rogerson?

‘It’s another reason for chatting to Kevin Hay.’ Willow stood up and shook a few scraps of food from her clothes. She reached down and gave a hand to Perez to help him up. ‘Shall I come along to your place later, Jimmy? I’d be interested in finding out what Hay says.’

He hesitated for a moment. Willow knew Cassie wouldn’t be in the house. ‘Would you like me cook for you? Nothing grand, though. A late supper.’

There was a moment of silence that made the question seem more significant than he’d intended.

‘Don’t go to any trouble, Jimmy,’ she said at last. ‘You know me, I’m a simple girl. ‘Some bread and cheese will suit me fine.’

Duncan Hunter turned up at Perez’s home in the early evening with a tanned face and an armful of gifts for his daughter. ‘Leave these here and open them later,’ he said to Cassie. ‘There are plenty more at our house.’ His house was the Haa, the crumbling heap he shared with his older woman, Celia. Sometimes. The relationship was tempestuous and Fran had bequeathed her daughter to Perez, not to Duncan. A kind of gift from the grave.

Cassie went off happily enough, though, and Perez was pleased to have the house to himself. On impulse he changed the sheets on his bed and cleaned the sink in the bathroom. Then he made himself tea and beans on toast, washed all the dishes and wiped down the draining board. He’d got in good bread and a variety of cheese, a stalk of grapes and some watercress. He laid the fire, so it would be ready to light when he got in.

Just as he got to the turn-off to the Hays’ place, a car pulled out onto the main road and drove off towards Lerwick. It was quite dark by now and he couldn’t tell whether the vehicle was driven by Jane or Kevin. Perez went on down to the house. There was a light in two of the upstairs windows. He supposed at least one of the boys must be at home. He got out of the car. Kevin must have heard the engine noise, because the door opened and he was standing there silhouetted. ‘Jimmy. This is kind of late for an official call.’

‘If it was official, I’d be calling you into the station.’ Perez kept his voice light and easy. He didn’t want the words to sound like a threat. ‘This is just a chat.’ Kevin stood aside to let him in. ‘Are you on your own?’

‘Jane’s at a meeting in town and Andy’s working in Mareel. Michael’s upstairs, but he won’t disturb us. Once he’s plugged into his computer he’s in a different universe.’ Kevin was wearing thick knitted socks and he padded ahead of Perez into the kitchen. There was a lingering smell of cooked food, but everything was tidy. ‘Will you take some coffee, Jimmy? Or a beer, if this is unofficial?’

‘Coffee would be great.’ Perez smiled to recognize that Kevin had almost cracked a joke.

Kevin Hay switched on the kettle and spooned instant into mugs. It seemed Perez didn’t deserve the effort of the good stuff. ‘What’s this about?’ He was quite serious now.

‘A couple of things. I’m sure you’ll clear them up in no time.’ Perez waited until Kevin was sitting at the table with him. ‘You paid some money into Tom Rogerson’s business account. Could you tell me what that was for?’

The man didn’t respond immediately. Perhaps he’d been expecting a question of the sort, because although it made him uncomfortable he wasn’t completely surprised. But he wasn’t a habitual liar and his answer was tentative and unconvincing. ‘Rogerson was my lawyer,’ he said at last. ‘We did business from time to time.’

‘Could you show me the invoices from Rogerson and Taylor?’

‘Not now, Jimmy. It would take me some time to find them, and anyway Jane looks after the admin side of things.’ He turned away and wouldn’t meet Perez’s eyes.

‘Only we can’t find a record of any business dealings with the firm and that seems a bit odd.’ Perez almost felt sorry for the man. He’d started to blush. ‘This would be confidential, Kevin, unless it had some bearing on Tom’s death. You’re not the only man to be paying sums into this secret account.’

There was a long silence. Kevin didn’t speak and he didn’t move.

‘Perhaps we’re talking blackmail here,’ Perez said. ‘That’s how it’s looking just now. If it was blackmail, you’d be a victim. An anonymous victim. But someone has to tell us what’s been going on. You do see that, don’t you, Kevin?’

‘It wasn’t blackmail.’ Now his voice was firm. ‘I’ve told you, there must be some mistake. An accounting error. There’s nothing sinister here. Nothing that can be related in any way to Rogerson’s death.’ Upstairs a door banged shut and Kevin’s voice grew more urgent. ‘That’ll be Michael. He’ll be coming down to fix himself a drink and a snack. I don’t want him worried. These sudden deaths have caused enough disturbance to our lives. It’s time for you to go, Jimmy. If you need to talk to me again, call me into the station. Like you said, that’s the proper way to have a conversation, if it’s official business.’ He was on his feet and almost shooed Perez towards the outside door as if he was a troublesome cat. That image made Perez think of another question.

‘Have you lost one of your cats?’ He was already in the yard. Kevin stood in the doorway.

‘I don’t think so. The farm cat had kittens and we’ve given all those away. Why?’

‘There was a dead cat found in Tain when they cleared through the rubble. I thought it must be one of yours, wandered in just before the landslide.’

Kevin seemed about to say something, but he shut the door without speaking. Perez sat in the car for a moment before driving away.

It was still only just gone seven and Willow wouldn’t be at his house until nine. Perez couldn’t think what he’d do at home for the next two hours except fret and get anxious, so he headed out again towards the complex of holiday lodges owned by the Henderson family. Willow had said that Stuart Henderson was on the list of people who paid money into Rogerson’s secret account. Perhaps he’d be more forthcoming than Kevin Hay. The chalets were grouped around a landscaped area, which in the brochure was described as a traditional Shetland hay meadow. The grass was brown and scorched by wind and salt now, but perhaps in the summer there would be wildflowers. Perez was sceptical. The scene was lit by wrought-iron street lights that would have been more in keeping in an English village square. The whole effect was of a bizarre film set, but two of the chalets had lights at the windows, so tourists must be attracted even in winter.

Stuart’s giant 4×4 wasn’t parked at the big bungalow and when Perez rang the doorbell, it was Craig Henderson who answered.

‘I was hoping to speak to your parents.’

‘They’re out,’ Craig said. ‘Country-and-Western night in the Marlix in town. That’s their thing.’ He flashed a quick grin. ‘At least it gives me an evening a week to myself. No nagging.’

‘Could I have a word with you?’

‘Aye, why not?’ He’d been eating supper from a tray, which had been set on the floor beside his chair. Perez supposed Angie would clear it up for him when she got in. A huge television screen was showing a European football match. Craig turned the sound down. ‘How can I help you, Jimmy?’

‘We’re following up information about Tom Rogerson. He seems to have been receiving rather mysterious payments. I wondered if you could shed any light on them.’ After all, he couldn’t accuse the man’s father of bribery and corruption or of paying blackmail to the dead man.

He’d expected a flat denial and for the television to go back on, but Craig’s attention was on Perez now.

‘There have been rumours,’ he said.

‘What kind of rumours?’ Perez thought it was odd that a man who only spent part of every year in Shetland should know the gossip about the place. But he could see that Angie would be one for spreading any news.

‘I didn’t hear it from here.’

That was even more tantalizing, but Perez didn’t want Craig to think the information was important, so he said nothing.

‘But oilies talk, you know.’

There was a goal on the television that caught Craig’s attention for a moment. Perez started to lose patience. ‘And what do the oilies say?’

‘They’re here on their own. All the men locked up in the floatels, away from their wives and girlfriends for weeks at a time. Those that have wives and girlfriends…’ He paused and grinned. ‘You can see that might provide a business opportunity for some enterprising person.’

Perez was starting to see where this was going. Willow had noticed that all the names on Rogerson’s list were men, but she’d assumed that was because most councillors and business people were male. ‘Spell it out for me, Craig. What was going on here?’

‘Rumour has it that Rogerson could get you a girl, if you wanted one.’ He looked up and grinned again. ‘A selection of girls.’