Red Bones - Ann Cleeves [97]
‘Were you one of the ones to propose to her?’
Cedric laughed again. ‘I knew better than to ask her. She’d have thought I was a poor thing after her Jerry. Everyone in Shetland knew he was a handsome man.’
‘Do you think the things that happened all those years ago could have any bearing on Mima’s death?’
‘Of course not,’ Cedric said. ‘How could it?’
Perez looked at him, not sure if he really meant what he said, but Cedric turned away and walked back into the kitchen.
Mark Evans, the psychiatric nurse, said he needed to be sure Perez was who he claimed to be: ‘Mrs James is in the public eye. I don’t want her hassled by a load of reporters. You do understand?’ He had a soft, slow voice and an accent unfamiliar to Perez. Rural. Perez wondered if he’d grown up on a farm; that would give them a point of contact, but he didn’t feel he could ask. Instead he gave the man the number of the police station in Lerwick. ‘They’ll confirm my mobile number.’
Then he waited, looking out over the harbour, for his phone to ring again. After the deserted feeling of the day before, the place was back to normal. There were cars queuing for the ferry and a couple of fishermen were getting a small trawler ready to go out to sea. He supposed Jerry Wilson’s Norwegian friend had sailed a boat of a similar size to Norway.
His phone rang, interrupting daydreams of wartime adventures, grey seas and huge waves. He’d never been physically brave and he didn’t think he’d have had the courage to volunteer for the Shetland Bus.
‘I was so sorry to hear that Hattie’s dead,’ Mark said. ‘I remember her well.’
‘I wondered if she’d been in touch with you recently, but Mrs James said not.’
‘No. She might have contacted another professional though. Her GP should have records. Even when she was ill she was unusually self-aware. I think she’d have realized she needed help. If she was so desperate that she committed suicide.’
Perez picked up an uncertainty in his voice. ‘Were you surprised to hear she’d killed herself?’
‘I was. She was a very intelligent young woman. I thought she’d taken on board the strategies for coping with her depression. And she understood that medication would help her. She never refused to take it. Was there an event that distressed her, something very serious that provoked the suicide attempt?’
‘Not that we know.’ Perez paused. ‘We’ve not ruled out the possibility of other causes of death. I’m looking into the matter for the Procurator Fiscal. I’m grateful that you’ve taken the time to talk to me.’
‘I thought you should know that four years ago Hattie was a victim of a criminal assault,’ Evans said. ‘It might not be relevant, but it seemed important to tell you.’
‘We have no record of that.’ As he spoke Perez hoped that was true. They had checked Hattie’s name against the criminal records. That was standard procedure but if she’d been a victim would that fact have come to light?
‘She never reported the matter to the police,’ Evans said.
‘Why not?’
‘A number of reasons. She’d suffered a severe bout of depression a couple of years earlier. There had been occasions of psychosis. She didn’t think she’d be believed. Perhaps she even felt she was responsible. She wouldn’t even talk to her mother about it.’
In his quiet, reassuring voice Evans described the incident, as he understood it had taken place. He was clearly angry. When he’d finished, Perez could understand why.
‘You realize there’s no proof,’ he said. ‘They might not have got a prosecution even then.’
‘I do realize that,’ Evans said. ‘I probably shouldn’t have told you. It’s very unprofessional. I couldn’t discuss it with Mrs James. I just wanted you to know. After all, Hattie’s not here to tell you herself.’
Chapter Thirty-two
Sandy woke early. He was lying in Mima’s high double bed. His mother had given him clean sheets to put on it, but the blankets had belonged to Mima. They smelled of peatsmoke and damp like the rest of the house. The sheet was wrinkled uncomfortably underneath him. He’d never quite got the hang