Raven Black

Chapter Fourteen

Jimmy Perez walked to his house. It was only five minutes from the hotel. He stopped once to look across the harbour to a huge factory ship. The vessel was lit up but there was no sign of anyone working. The narrow streets were empty. In the cold he felt sober and clearheaded.

He lived on the waterfront in a tiny house crammed between two bigger ones. There was a tidemark on the external stone wall and in rough weather the salt spray whipped against even the upstairs window. The house was cramped, damp and impractical. There was no parking. If his parents stayed he had to sleep on the sofa. He'd bought it on a romantic whim after Sarah had left and he'd moved back to Shetland. He couldn't quite regret it. It was like having a home on a boat. Inside it was much like a boat too. Very tidy. Everything in its place.

He didn't care about his appearance but he cared how the house looked. The walls of the living room were lined with horizontal wood panels, neatly fitted carvel-fashion, painted grey. An attempt, he realized now, to hide the effect of the damp. Wallpaper would be impossible. The only window was small and looked out over the water.

He could stand in the middle of the galley kitchen and touch each wall.

It was precisely midnight when he stepped through the door. Taylor had said he wanted everyone in the Incident Room an hour before first light the next day, but Perez wasn't ready for sleep. As he switched on the kettle to make tea, he remembered he hadn't eaten since lunchtime and stuck sliced bread under the grill, fished margarine and marmalade from the fridge. He'd have breakfast now, save time in the morning.

As he ate, he read the previous morning's mail – a thin airmail letter from an old Fair Isle friend who'd decided in her thirties that she needed to see more of the world than the north isles. She was working as a teacher for VSO in Tanzania. With her words she conjured up dusty roads, exotic fruit, smiling children.

Why don't you come to visit? When he was fifteen he'd loved her. He thought he probably still did. But then he'd loved Sarah when he'd married her. Emotionally incontinent. A phrase he'd picked up from somewhere.

It was the sort of thing Sarah might have said. Horrible but probably appropriate. He leaked unsuitable affection.

Already, in this investigation, he felt protective towards Fran Hunter and her child and an almost overwhelming pity for Magnus Tait, whether he was a murderer or not. And police officers were supposed to be detached.

He rinsed the cup and plate and set them on the draining board, filled a glass with water to take with him to bed. But still he didn't go upstairs. He lifted the handset on his phone and heard the signal which meant there were messages. The first was from his friend John and was timed at eight-fifteen. John was in The Lounge, a bar in town, and was calling from his mobile. In the background Perez heard fiddle music and laughter. If you're free come along and I’ll buy you that pint I owe you. But I guess you're probably tied up. Catch up with you soon. That meant news of the murder must be common knowledge.

The second message was from his mother. She didn't bother to identify herself.

I thought you'd be interested to know that Willie and Ellen have finally decided to leave Skerry. They're moving south to be closer to Anne. Phone me sometime.

He recognized a suppressed excitement in her voice. He knew what that was about. Willie and Ellen were an elderly couple who'd been farming on Fair Isle since they were married. Willie had been born on the island, was a sort of relative through Perez's grandmother. Ellen had come in as a young woman to be a nurse. Once they left, a croft would be free. what was his response to the news? Panic? Depression? Delight? He found it impossible to decide. Instead he had a clear visual memory of his last visit to Skerry.

The house had recently been renovated and Ellen was showing it off. There'd been a new roof, they'd made the window in the kitchen bigger and there was a view all the way down to the South Light.

Ellen had made griddle scones. He'd stood by the window munching and thinking that the fields around the croft were sheltered enough for barley. If ever he came back, he'd thought, he'd like to return to the days when the farming was more mixed.

And now the matter was more than speculation. Perez could take over Skerry if he wanted to. The National

'Trust for Scotland which owned the island always gave priority to applicants from Fair Isle families. So he'd be forced to face the decision which he'd hoped to put off for a while longer. If he moved back to the island his future would be settled. 'Tradition was still important. His father was skipper of the mail boat. Perez would automatically join the crew and eventually he would become skipper in his father's place. At one time he'd thought that was what he'd wanted the continuity and security of island life. Now that he was faced with the possibility, he wasn't so certain. Wouldn't it bore him rigid?

Perhaps he would think differently if he wasn't in the middle of the most exciting investigation he'd ever worked on. He knew he'd been influenced by the passion of the Inspector from Inverness. It was probably another romantic whim, but tonight it seemed important to be a policeman. Would he feel the same when his workload consisted of petty theft and traffic violations?

His family longed for him to be home though they would never say so. It was his choice, they said. He should do whatever made him happy. They were proud of the work he did. But the pressure was there, subtle and unspoken. He was the last Perez. His sisters had married and were living on the Isle, but he was the only one to carry the name. When he'd told his mother about his separation from Sarah, there'd been one brief unguarded moment and he'd known she'd been thinking,

So. No grandchildren. At least for a while. Sarah must have felt the pressure too. Throughout the pregnancy and after the child was lost.

He carried his drink upstairs. He was in no state to make any rational decision tonight He looked out of the window and closed the curtains. Usually he fell asleep to the sound of water, almost imperceptible, not consciously noticed.

Tonight the sea closest to the shore was still frozen and there was silence, except for the occasional strange creak. He had thought the image of the dead girl, her face pecked by birds, might keep him awake, but he was haunted by the view down Fair Isle from Skerry, sunlight over the South Harbour and cloud-shaped shadows racing over Malcolm's Head.

When he arrived at the station the following morning Taylor was already waiting for him. He called him into one of the meeting rooms and already seemed to know his way about the place. Perez thought he couldn't have had much sleep.

'Just a quick chat,' Taylor said. 'Before we meet the troops. Talk me through what steps you took yesterday, who you met. We know about the old man. Who else did you speak to?'

Perez told him. It felt strange. It had been a long time since he'd answered to another detective.

'I need to get the timetable clear it my mind. The order of events.' Taylor tore a sheet of paper from a flip chart, laid it on the table and started to scribble in thick black marker pen. Perez hoped nobody else would be expected to read it. It was unintelligible.

'The early hours of New Year's Day she and her best mate fetch up at Magnus Tait's place. A sort of dare.

The night of the 3rd she tells her father she's at a party and not to expect her home. Then there's the text on the 4th saying she might stay out again.' He looked up from the paper. 'Didn't he ask where she was? Who was having the party?'

Perez shook his head. 'His wife died not long ago. He still seems to be suffering some sort of depression. I think the girl was allowed to get on with it'

'OK. A place like this, we shouldn't have any trouble finding out Late morning on the 4th and she's catching the bus back home. Tait is on the same bus and asks her in for a cup of tea. He says she leaves his place before it gets dark, but that's the last time anyone admits to seeing her. The next morning, the 5th, her body is found on the hill not far from Hillhead. Is that right?'

'Yes.' He almost said Sir, stopped it just in time.

This was his patch.

'Let's go and see what the rest of them have got for us then.'

Perez had asked Sandy to manage the Incident Room. The constable had an instinct for computers and was good at routine and Perez preferred him in the office, safely out of the way of the public. Sandy was fit for drunken scraps in town on a Friday night, but not for anything requiring more subtlety or tact. He stood now, scratching his bum, waiting for Taylor’s response to the layout of the room, making Perez think of a cub scout waiting for Akela's inspection. That was Sandy's problem. He still thought like a peerie boy.

'Will it do?' He was freckled and eager. 'Of course we've never run an investigation on this scale before.

Not in my time. The PCs are up and running.'

'Fantastic,' Taylor said. 'Really, fantastic.' It was over the top and Perez could tell that his mind was elsewhere, but Sandy was taken in. Here, with an audience, Taylor had lost none of the energy of the night before, but Perez could see blue smudges like bruises under his eyes. Outside it was still dark. Now, the room was lit by desk lamps. There were pools of light and shadows in the corners. Perez was reminded suddenly of a wartime ops room from an old movie. There was the same tension and expectancy.

Taylor was still talking. 'I take it we've got a specified outside line with a number we can give to the public!

'It's just been connected;

'I want it manned 24/7. Someone has the information which will lead to a conviction. I don't want a witness finding the courage to ring, only to get an answerphone. They get through immediately to a real person.

Understood?'

'There'll be lots of folk pointing the finger at Magnus Tait: Sandy Wilson said.

'Pointing the finger's not enough. We're polite but we make it clear we need evidence! Taylor paused for a minute to check that he had their attention. 'I've decided to use the Inverness team to work the phone. They can take it in shifts.

This is a unique situation and we have to be sensitive to it. Our callers might want to stay anonymous. Fat chance of that if there's someone they know answering the calls! He looked quickly round the room. 'Everyone agree?'

The question was a formality. They all knew the decision had already been made. Taylor perched on a desk at the front of the room.

'I take it the body's been moved?'

'It's at the undertaker's. The CSI was happy enough to release it. It'll go south for the post mortem on this evening's boat. Jane Meltham will go with it to be there for the pm!

'What did the girl have on her? A bag, keys, purse?' 'No bag or keys. A purse in her coat pocket. Morag searched her bedroom yesterday and found a small handbag. No keys there either!

'That's weird isn't it? That she didn't take her keys with her. How would she get back into the house?'

'People don't always lock up here. Not unless they're going to be away for a while. Perhaps she did have them, but they dropped out of her pocket when she was killed.'

'I'd like a fingertip search of the fields around the scene. How do we manage that? Do we have to ship in more personnel?'

'In the past we've organized a search through the coastguard: Perez said. 'They made the cliff rescue team available. I'm not sure if it was officially sanctioned..!

'Bugger official sanctions. We know how long it'll take to get more people up here. A gale or a blizzard and we've lost any evidence which might be there. Can I leave you to sort that? Get them out on the hill as soon as practicable!

'Sure! There was no other possible answer, though

Perez wasn't sure how long it would take to call the team members in.

'Then I want you to go to the schoo1.'

In full flow 'Taylor talked very quickly, the words tripping over themselves. Sometimes he couldn't find the right phrase but continued anyway. 'Ask to speak to all the Sixth year. I don't know. Perhaps a special assembly if you can organize it, something forma1.

To emphasize how important their help would be. Do it today, while they're still in shock, before they have time to get used to what's happened! He was sitting on the desk in front of them, swinging his legs like a child who couldn't keep still. 'There should be a lot of sympathy for the father. I know, pupils and teachers, they don't always get on. But in a case like this. I mean, for Christ's sake. Give them the number of the special phone line.

Tell them they'll get through to an outsider if they call it, but make it clear they can talk to you if they prefer. That way we're giving them a choice. We want to know where Catherine was the night before she died, who she usually hung out with, boyfriends, wannabe boyfriends! He stopped for breath. There was a brief moment of silence. Looking beyond the SIO Perez saw, through the long window, that the darkness wasn't so dense. Soon it would be light.

There's one lad I want to trace,' Perez said. 'He drove the girls home on New Year's Eve. I know where he lives.

It should be easy enough to find him through the schoo1.'

'What about Magnus Tait?' It was Sandy Wilson. He could never hold his tongue and Taylor’s appreciation of the Incident Room had made him overconfident. 'I mean, if he killed the girl, do we need to bother with all this?'

Taylor jumped down from the desk and swung round to face him. Perez expected an explosion. He had the inspector down as a man who wouldn't suffer fools gladly and there were times when he thought Sandy was the biggest fool in Shetland. But Taylor kept his temper. Perez thought it was taking an effort, but the SIO would know it wouldn't help relationships between Inverness and Lerwick if he ballocked one of the Shetlanders in front of his colleagues.

'We can't close off any options at this stage of the case,' he said evenly. 'You know how it works, Sandy, when you get to court. Some slick lawyer, out to make a name for himself. What other lines of enquiry did you follow, Inspector Taylor? What other actions did you take? Or were you so convinced by my client's guilt that you didn't try to look any further? It's my responsibility to obtain a conviction, not just to get a man in front of a judge. And you didn't even manage that when Catriona Bruce went missing. Someone like Magnus Tait needs careful handling. Do you understand what I'm saying, Sandy?'

Perez thought that hoping for understanding from Sandy Wilson was like waiting for piggies to float over Sumburgh Head, but by now Taylor was carried along by the flow of words and seemed not to notice the lack of response from the constable.

'We keep an eye on Tait. We'll be working on the crime scene for a few days and he lives close by, so that won't be hard. We can do it unobtrusively. If he goes out, we follow him. I don't want another murder.

But overnight I was thinking about what Jimmy said.

You disturbed my sleep Jimmy, but you were right. We explore the other options first. We only bring in the old man when we're absolutely sure!

Great, Perez said to himself. So now it's my responsibility if things go wrong. He thought Taylor was cleverer and much more devious than he'd realized.