Dead Water

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Later their colleague Morag took Annabel out for a short guided walk of Lerwick. Perez had suggested that she might like to see where Jerry had been at school, the office where he’d first worked as a journalist. While she was away, they interviewed her father. Willow had the sense that Grey was as keen as the detectives to have a discussion in Annabel’s absence, and she felt throughout that he was in charge of the meeting. He set the agenda and told them what he wanted them to know. At one point, describing his work as a human-rights lawyer, he said, ‘Ah sometimes, Inspector, I lose sight of the truth. I’m a weaver of stories. A persuader.’

She thought that was what he was doing here – conjuring a story of the Greys’ perfect lives: the house on the edge of Hampstead Heath, the country retreat in Dorset, Annabel’s academic brilliance. Not necessarily to deceive his audience in any way, but to convince them to treat his daughter gently. And because he wanted Willow and Perez to like him, to be swept along by the energy of his narrative. He was seductive. In her parents’ world of the commune, he would be welcomed as a guru.

‘So you’d met Jerry Markham on many occasions,’ Perez said to start them off. ‘You knew him well?’

But, like his daughter, Richard wanted to describe events in his own way. ‘First,’ he said, ‘a little family history to set events in context. For the last ten years it’s just been Annabel and me. My wife left me when our daughter was eleven. I adored Jane, but she was an impulsive woman, given to strange moods and depressions. She always resisted seeking psychiatric help, but I should have persisted. I see that now. She was obviously mentally ill.’ He paused and looked wistfully into the distance. Willow felt like applauding his performance. She wondered if Grey believed that his wife’s antipathy towards him could be considered a symptom of psychiatric disorder. If so, Willow was a sufferer too. Perez said nothing and waited for Grey to continue.

‘Jane ran away with a younger man. She had some notion that she might take Annabel with her, but she soon realized that would be impractical. She could hardly look after herself, never mind a child.’ Another dramatic pause. ‘Besides, without Annabel to care for, I’d have fallen apart completely.’

It occurred to Willow that Perez might sympathize with Richard Grey. Without Cassie to look after, would he have survived Fran’s murder? Perhaps that was why he was so tolerant of the man’s posturing.

‘Jane was a regular church-goer from before I met her,’ Grey said. ‘I think she liked the theatre of it – the dressing up and the ritual. And there was always someone around to offer her sympathy and give her attention. She used to take Annabel to Sunday School. I never understood the attraction, but Annabel still went, even after Jane disappeared. Perhaps she hoped that one day her mother would turn up in the congregation; of course that never happened. Jane lost all contact with us a couple of months after she ran away. Then, when Annabel was fifteen, St Luke’s appointed a new vicar. He was young and evangelical and he appealed to the younger parishioners. I suppose faith became more real to Annabel then and she took a more active part in the worship. In the whole life of the church. It’s influenced her deeply ever since.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Perez said, the famous patience finally wearing thin. ‘I don’t quite understand what this has to do with Jerry Markham.’

‘It explains her infatuation,’ Richard Grey said. ‘When Jerry turned up at the advent course that day – challenging, screwed up, but very attractive – she thought she could save him. He was like a male version of her mother. Annabel is young and passionate, and Jerry Markham became the most important thing in her life. More important than her friends, or her academic study at St Hilda’s.’

‘And what did you make of him?’ Willow asked. ‘You must have realized that he had a reputation as a journalist. He was known to be ruthless and very ambitious. And he was a lot older than Annabel.’

Grey frowned. ‘He wasn’t the man I’d have chosen for her, but sometimes you have to let go. To allow the people you love to make their own mistakes.’

‘So you thought Jerry Markham was a mistake?’

Grey hesitated. ‘He seemed pleasant enough. Devoted to my daughter. Prepared to go along with the whole thing – baptism, confirmation – just to please her. He made her happy.’

‘But you didn’t feel you could trust him?’

‘I didn’t know,’ Grey said. ‘I suppose I wasn’t sure she wouldn’t get hurt. He reminded me too much of my ex-wife.’

There was a knock at the door and Morag was there, looking apologetic because they were back so soon. Annabel rushed ahead of her, flushed from the walk. ‘I’m so glad that we came,’ she said. ‘I feel that I’ve met Jerry all over again. It’s as if I’ve bumped into him in the street and followed in his footsteps along the waterfront.’ She stood behind her father and kissed his head lightly. ‘Thank you so much for bringing me.’

They continued the conversation standing by the marina in Aith, though now Annabel was with them, so it was difficult to revisit the subject of Jerry’s suitability as a husband. A weak sun provided no heat and Willow had given Annabel a spare jersey, which covered her dress and looked on her like a designer outfit, something weird and boho seen on the catwalk. Richard had pulled a Berghaus jacket from the holdall and seemed perfectly at home. Out in the voe some kids were having sailing lessons at an after-school club, skittering over the water in tiny dinghies. Annabel had asked if she might see where Jerry had died. Perez had said immediately that they could take her to where the body was found. Willow admired his tact. This place, by the water, with the hills on all sides, would provide a better memory for the woman than a lay-by next to a busy road. She wouldn’t have been so thoughtful. But then she wasn’t taken in by long legs and innocence. To think that she’d believed Perez would be immune to that sort of charm!

Now Annabel sat on an upturned wooden crate looking out over the sea. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said. ‘More bleak than I was expecting, but bigger, more open. Jerry had shown me photos, but you can’t really tell from those. You don’t get an idea of the scale.’

‘What did Jerry tell you about his life on the islands?’

Still Perez was leading the discussion. Willow had decided to let him get on with it – she’d worked out that Annabel was someone who would respond better to men.

‘He talked about his parents, working so hard in the hotel,’ Annabel said. ‘He was very close to his mother. No siblings, so we had that in common, and with his dad so tied up with the business, I suppose that was natural. I know Maria phoned Jerry almost every day.’

‘And Jerry didn’t mind that?’ Perez was standing beside Annabel’s makeshift bench and, like her, he was staring over the water, so there was no eye contact. ‘He didn’t find it intrusive?’

‘No. As I said, they were very close. I think he welcomed the way she kept in touch.’

‘Who would Jerry have talked to if he had a problem?’ Perez asked. ‘His mother? You?’

Now Annabel turned so that she was looking directly at him. ‘I didn’t see it as a competition,’ she said. ‘Dad and I are very close, but Jerry didn’t resent that, either.’

Willow looked at Richard Grey. No response at all.

‘I’m not suggesting that you resented Maria.’ Perez gave an awkward little laugh. ‘But in this case it’s important to know if Jerry confided in anyone. We need to know what brought him to Shetland. Maybe he had a close male friend? Here or in London?’

‘Jerry didn’t find it easy admitting to problems,’ Annabel said. ‘And he certainly didn’t like asking for help. A sort of macho thing. He thought he should be able to deal with stuff himself.’

‘Did he ever talk to you about Evie Watt?’ Perez asked. ‘She’s a young Shetlander. She and Jerry were lovers before he left the islands for London.’

‘I’m sure Jerry had lots of girlfriends before he met me.’ Annabel stared back at the sea. ‘But this was going to be a fresh start for us both.’

Willow couldn’t believe that the girl had never asked about Jerry Markham’s past. That was what lovers did: shared their intimate secrets. It was part of the game.

‘Evie’s boyfriend was the second murder victim,’ Perez said. ‘So you do see how this is relevant.’

‘You think Evie Watt killed them both?’ The question came from Richard Grey. He’d been leaning against the harbour wall, apparently just enjoying the air, but Willow saw that he’d been following the conversation closely.

‘No!’ Perez said. ‘There’s no evidence for that at all. But it’s a connection. A link that we have to explore.’

In the voe one of the dinghies tipped on its side and a young boy with bright-red hair climbed onto the hull, spluttering and laughing.

‘Jerry talked about betrayal,’ Annabel said. ‘Late one night. We’d been out for a meal and he was walking me home. It was early January, before I went back to St Hilda’s, a sharp frost, and he had his arm around me. We’d shared a bottle of wine. I asked about Shetland. Would he ever go back to live? He said it wasn’t the paradise that people from outside believed it to be. When you trusted people and they let you down, that was the worst sort of betrayal.’

‘Did he say who’d betrayed him?’ Willow asked the question and felt that she was intruding into a private conversation. But this was her case, her chance to make a mark.

Annabel shook her head. ‘That was all he said.’