White Nights - Ann Cleeves [23]
‘Did you think there were fewer people at the opening last night than Bella was expecting?’
‘Yeah, I was surprised. She usually gets a good turnout.’
‘Someone was spreading these all over Lerwick and Scalloway yesterday.’
Perez had slipped the flyer into a transparent plastic bag and he gave it to Roddy to read. Roddy stopped, leaning against an outcrop of rock in the hill.
‘You don’t think I had anything to do with this?’
‘It might have been someone’s idea of a joke.’
‘But not mine. I told you. Bella took me in when I wanted to carry on living here. If it wasn’t for her I’d be speaking with a Texas accent and playing country and western. I owe her.’
‘Any idea who might have thought it funny?’
‘No. There doesn’t seem much to laugh about. That bit about a death in the family, it’s just sick.’
‘There has been a death,’ Perez said. ‘That’s what I’m doing here.’
‘Who?’
‘There was a stranger at the party last night. He made a scene just after you finished playing. Got on to his knees and starting crying.’
‘Guy in black. Shaved head?’
‘Yes.’
They’d started walking again and Perez could smell the bird shit and the salt in the air. The grass was cropped short here. There were patches of thrift and tiny blue dots of spring squill. They’d almost reached the top of the cliff. He slowed his pace.
‘Had you ever seen him before?’ Perez asked. ‘Before he lost it the man seemed really interested in the paintings. I don’t know, not just idle curiosity. As if he knew something about art. You don’t remember coming across him at one of Bella’s other events?’
‘What does Bella say?’
‘She was reluctant to commit herself either way. He could have been an acquaintance, but she couldn’t be sure. Her memory’s not as good as it was.’
‘Bollocks.’ Roddy still had breath to give a choking laugh. Perez was starting to pant. ‘Bella’s as sharp as she always was. Sharper, if it comes to business. If your guy was a dealer or critic she’d have recognized him the minute he came into the room.’
‘And you? Did you know him?’
‘Sorry. Never seen him before in my life.’
Although they were some way from the edge of the cliff they could see the water now, glittering and fizzing against an offshore craig. Perez sat on the grass. A gannet was hovering in the thermals. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m not as fit as I should be. It’s all desk work these days.’ He hoped Roddy would sit with him, but the boy walked on. He stood with his back to Perez, looking out, arms slightly away from his body. The late-morning sun was right above him, his own spotlight. From where he was sitting Perez thought he would disappear. One more step and he would tumble into space. It looked as if all Roddy had to do was reach out his hand and then he would touch the tip of the gannet’s wing. An illusion, Perez knew. A trick of the light and the way the land dipped towards the cliff-edge. But it made him feel sick. He could feel sweat on his forehead, hoped it wasn’t showing.
‘You haven’t asked how the Englishman died.’ He hoped that would be enough to catch the boy’s attention and Roddy did turn towards Perez, walk a few steps closer.
‘What was it? An accident?’ And that was the most probable scenario for unexpected death in the islands. Too much to drink. Narrow and precarious roads. Especially for a stranger.
‘Kenny Thomson found him hanging in the hut by the jetty.’
‘Suicide then?’
‘Most likely.’ The official version until the GP from Whiteness got his second opinion.
‘Poor sod,’ Roddy said, and then he did come and flop on the grass beside Perez. But the words came easily, without any thought behind them. He was young and lucky and couldn’t imagine how desperate you would have to be to take your own life.
‘Or murder.’ The words sounded fierce to Perez and he knew he shouldn’t have spoken. Not until it was all official. But he wanted Roddy to take the matter seriously. At the moment it was a game to him. Besides, Perez trusted the young Glaswegian doctor, and by the time the team arrived from Inverness the whole of Shetland would know what