White Nights - Ann Cleeves [51]
Kenny felt sick. It had never occurred to him that the murder had been planned. There was violent crime in Shetland, but it was never premeditated. It was men fighting in bars when they were steaming drunk, falling out over some woman or some imagined insult.
‘I don’t know,’ he said.
‘Really?’ Taylor leaned forward, so Kenny could smell the whisky on his breath. ‘The way I understand it, you grew up with most of the people who live in that community. You know them better than anyone. Who could commit murder then lie about it the next day?’
‘I don’t know,’ Kenny said again. ‘If you live that close to people you don’t pry. You don’t try to get under their skin. You have to live alongside each other and everyone needs some space. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
‘Yeah,’ Taylor said. ‘I think I do.’
That was when he said he didn’t have any other questions. He thanked Kenny for his help and said he could go.
It wasn’t until Kenny was driving down the hill towards Biddista and he saw the light on the water that he realized what he intended to do. This evening, after he’d shared a meal with Edith, he was going to take his boat out and try to get some fish. It was a perfect evening for it. Then he was going to track down Lawrence.
He’d accepted his brother’s going too easily. He’d got into the habit of doing just what Lawrence told him. He’d left a message with Bella for Kenny.
‘Tell him I’m going away again.’
But things were different now. Bella was almost an old woman. Why shouldn’t he come home? And these days it was easier to find people. There was the internet. Edith knew all about the internet and she would help him. Driving up to the house, he felt excited at the prospect of seeing Lawrence again. He imagined meeting him from the boat. Lawrence would walk down the stairs in the terminal. He’d see Kenny there to meet him and he’d throw back his head and laugh.
Chapter Eighteen
Cassie was already in bed when Perez turned up at Fran’s house. He’d phoned earlier to ask if he could call. ‘It might be late. If you’d rather not be disturbed . . .’ She’d been surprised by the effect his voice had on her. A sensation that the floor had disappeared beneath her feet.
‘No,’ she’d said quickly. ‘It doesn’t matter how late you are. I never get to bed before eleven and this time of year it’s impossible to sleep anyway.’
She was sitting on a white wooden bench by the side of her front door looking out over Raven Head when he arrived. She’d had one glass of wine and was thinking she might help herself to another when she heard the car on the road. He pulled in to the verge and walked up the short path, then sat beside her. He looked very tired.
‘I’ll fetch you a drink,’ she said. ‘Beer? Wine? Whisky?’
‘Could I have some coffee?’ She thought then that he wouldn’t be staying. She supposed it would be less complicated. There was Cassie to think about. The night of the exhibition, Cassie had been staying with her father. She didn’t want Cassie to wake up and find Jimmy in her mother’s bed. Not yet, not until she’d had a chance to explain to Cassie what was going on. But all the same Fran was disappointed.
She left him sitting outside and put on the kettle. When she carried out the mug he was still sitting in the same position, his hands on his knees, his head slightly bent. It was as if he was too exhausted to move.
‘It must be that sleepless night catching up on me,’ he said. ‘Strange. I didn’t feel so bad yesterday.’
‘Sorry.’ She was still standing and stooped to put the mug on the bench beside him.
‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘Don’t be sorry. I wouldn’t have missed it. Not for the world.’ Then he lifted his head so