Red Bones - Ann Cleeves [131]
A moment of complete silence.
‘Cedric!’ A man’s voice. Not angry, but almost pleading. ‘Cedric! Are you there? What do you want from me?’
Ronald Clouston was suddenly visible caught in the beam of a powerful spotlight. It looked like a searchlight swinging over no man’s land, and he was trapped in its beam, frozen and horrified. He was standing next to the trench of the dig and in the background there was the spoil heap, still shrouded in mist. Perez thought it would only take a high wall topped with barbed wire to turn this into a scene from a Cold War spy movie. Over his arm Ronald carried a shotgun.
‘Cedric.’ This time the man’s voice was firmer. ‘Stop playing games, man, we can talk about this.’
‘Cedric won’t be here.’ It was Sandy, armed with nothing more than the powerful torch. Ronald squinted his eyes against the light. Perez ran behind the men, keeping in the shadows. He crouched and waited. Even from those first four words Perez could tell Sandy was furious, angrier than he’d ever been in his life.
‘What will you do now, Ronald?’ Sandy yelled. ‘Will you shoot me too? It’s a misty night. You could say you were out after rabbits. Or will you hit me over the head with a rock and slit my wrists? Like you did to the young lass from the south.’ There was a pause and it sounded to Perez as if Sandy was sobbing. ‘How could you do that, Ronald? To a young girl?’
Clouston stood quite still in the fog and said nothing.
‘What was this all about?’ Sandy went on. ‘Family pride? Did two people have to die for the Clouston family pride?’
‘Don’t be a fool, man!’ At last Ronald was provoked to speech. The words came out as a roar. ‘Pride had nothing to do with it. This was all about money.’
He raised the shotgun. Sandy stood, his arms out wide, still holding the torch in one hand. Perez ran out into the light.
‘Give me the gun,’ he said. He spoke very slowly and quietly. ‘You can’t shoot the both of us at once.’
Ronald turned, hesitated for a moment. The inspector reached out and lifted the gun from his hands. There was a moment of resistance then he gave it up without a struggle, grateful, Perez thought, not to have to make the decision to use it. Perez dropped the gun on to the ground, then pulled Ronald’s arms behind his back so he could cuff his wrists. For a moment they stood very close as if they were performing a strange dance. Sandy lowered his hands. The inspector realized then that Sandy hadn’t known Perez was there. He’d expected to die at the hands of his friend. History repeating itself.
Chapter Forty-four
In the police station on the hill Perez sat in the interview room and waited for Ronald Clouston to come in with his lawyer. It was still dark. Perez stood at the narrow window and looked down at the lights of the town. At the end of January, during Up Helly Aa, the guizers would march right past here and there’d be the sound of pipes and chanting men, the pavements packed with watching people, their faces lit by the burning torches. Now everything was quiet.
In the corridor outside he heard murmured voices. The door opened and Ronald Clouston came in with a middle-aged lawyer and Perez’s colleague Morag. The conversation had been between the professionals; Ronald seemed to be sleepwalking. He was quite calm but his eyes were glazed. He stood by the table and would have remained standing if his lawyer hadn’t touched his shoulder and gestured