White Nights - Ann Cleeves [112]
‘I’ll be asleep before you come in,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
‘My fault. I shouldn’t have asked Taylor.’
He thought this was a crazy way to begin a relationship. They floated into each other’s lives when they were too exhausted to make sense. Ghosts passing in the white nights. Sarah would never have put up with it. She’d wanted more of his attention and his energy. Fran, surely, would tire of his preoccupation with work in the end. But then, as she’d explained, she had her own obsession too, with her art.
He most have dozed off because he didn’t hear Taylor’s car, only a tap at the door. Outside, the darkest of the night had passed. The grey light in the east showed the black silhouette of Raven’s Head. He filled a kettle and made coffee. They started talking in whispers. Perez set Bella’s photograph on the table.
‘See the masks,’ he said.
Taylor frowned. ‘So that was significant. A message?’
‘Perhaps. But who from? Booth, who wore it to hand out his flyers? Or the murderer?’
They considered this for a moment in silence, reached no conclusion.
‘Is that Jeremy Booth, do you think?’ Perez asked. ‘It looks like him to me and Bella seemed sure. I’d already checked dates with the management of the theatre ship and that was the summer he was here. I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to prove how they met unless she tells us. Perhaps she went to the show. They cater for a family audience. Roddy wasn’t staying with her then but she spent a lot of time with him. It’s the sort of thing a doting aunt would do, take her nephew to the theatre for a treat. And I can imagine her sweeping all the cast back with her to Biddista. For dinner or a few days at the end of the run.’ He thought of Lucy, the young actress. He could see that they would want to celebrate the end of a show. All those nerves. All that excitement. ‘And she told Fran that she hired the masks from the theatre company. Another connection.’
‘We can show the photo to the theatre management,’ Taylor said. ‘Perhaps they can identify the other people there. We can chase that up, confirm Booth’s presence.’
‘That’s definitely Wilding.’ Perez pointed to the dark-haired man. ‘He hasn’t changed as much as Booth.’
‘So Bella Sinclair’s been lying?’
Perez shrugged. ‘Or she’d genuinely forgotten. She didn’t have to tell Fran about that summer. Why would she if she has things to hide?’
‘He would remember though,’ Taylor said. ‘I can go along with Bella forgetting a house guest who turned up briefly with a load of other people. But to travel to Shetland and spend days in the company of an artist you admire . . . No way did that just slip out of Wilding’s mind.’
His voice rose. Perez imagined Cassie stumbling into the room, woken by the noise.
They continued the conversation outside, the food on the white bench between them, fresh mugs of coffee at their feet. It was still chill and they sat huddled in their coats.
‘So what happened that summer?’ Taylor demanded. ‘Why have two people died?’
‘There was a murder.’ Perez was quite certain about that. ‘The bones at the bottom of the Pit. It would be good if we could date them. Any chance, do you think?’
‘Not sure. We should get an ID eventually. A DNA match from a relative maybe. And the teeth will help.’
‘Oh I think I know who it was,’ Perez said. ‘Lawrence Thomson disappeared that summer. He told Bella he was leaving the islands, but he’s never been heard of since. If you listen to Kenny you’d think his big brother was a saint, but he had a record of fighting.’ He’d checked that too.
‘What are you thinking? Too much drink and a brawl that got out of hand and they tipped the body down the Pit? Then they all agreed to keep quiet about it?’
‘Perhaps.’ Perez could see that might have happened. It would be a heady mix. An unusually warm summer. The excitement of new and exotic strangers in the community. All the men showing off for Bella. The tribal hostility between incomer and outsider. Then a pact of silence.
‘So what’s changed? They’d got away with it. Even if those bones had been found now, people would