There was silence and once more Jane could picture the scene in the charity’s office, the rain on the windowpane, the steam rising from the stylish coat, the box of tissues on the low table. Then the woman suddenly becoming quite controlled, almost dignified, and walking away into the night.
‘Is that how the woman appeared to you?’ Perez asked. ‘Like a professional woman? If you were to guess what work she did, what would you say?’
‘I suppose I assumed she was in the oil or gas business.’ Simon seemed surprised by the question. ‘Because of the way she spoke – her confidence once the tears were over. I imagined her heading up a team, having a certain responsibility.’
‘Alissandra’s a foreign name, as you say. Southern Mediterranean. Did she have an accent?’
Simon paused for a moment. His voice was upper-class English. Sometimes Jane teased him about it.
‘Perhaps there was a trace of an accent, but if she came from overseas, her English was very good.’
‘Did you arrange to meet again?’
There was a moment of silence.
‘No,’ Simon said. ‘I never expected to see her again.’
Chapter Nine
Perez walked to collect Cassie on Friday night – the Rogerson house was close to the police station – and glimpsed domestic scenes through uncurtained windows along the street. Happy families. Maybe. The door was opened by Kathryn’s father, Tom. Perez knew him by sight and had bumped into him at a couple of meetings. Tom was a solicitor, senior partner in a firm of lawyers who dealt with everything from divorce to crime, but much of his work seemed to involve one of the contractors at Sullom Voe. Perez served on a council working group that planned for disaster, if a tanker should hit the rocks or there was a major oil spill at the terminal, and Tom Rogerson was often present, either representing the contractor or in his role as councillor. It seemed ironic now that nobody had planned for the disaster of a landslide triggered by natural causes.
Tom had worked in the south straight after university and only came home when his daughter was born.
‘Where better to bring up a child?’ he’d said when he first met Perez and found out that he had a stepdaughter. ‘I loved the freedom of being a kid here and my wife’s an Orcadian, so she felt just the same. It meant a drop in salary, but money’s not everything. Isn’t that right, Jimmy?’
Now he stepped back to let Perez into the house. Perez remembered that they’d met on social occasions too, at a couple of weddings. One a marathon affair in Whalsay. Tom Rogerson was a great dancer, very light on his feet, and even just stepping away from the door he moved as if he had music in his head.
‘That Cassie’s a fine young lassie. The women have enjoyed every minute of having her here.’
‘I’m very grateful,’ Perez said. ‘But I hope the school will re-open on Monday and I won’t have to impose on you again.’ He realized that he sounded a little stuffy. Willow Reeves would have pulled a face and laughed at him, if she were there.
‘Aye well, Kathryn will know more about that. I’ve not long got in from work. You’ll stay for a cup of tea, Jimmy?’ And before Perez could answer, he was shouting through to the kitchen, ‘Put the kettle on, Mavis, the inspector has arrived for the bairn.’
This time Cassie was in the living room, with a big box of dressing-up clothes. Kathryn had propped a long mirror against the wall so that the child could look at herself. As he walked past, Perez stuck his head in the room to say hello, but Cassie was engrossed in fastening a silk princess dress with a wide blue ribbon and only waved. Kathryn was in the kitchen drinking tea with her mother.
‘Cassie looks as if she’s having fun.’ Was he a failure as a father because he’d never thought Cassie might like dressing up?
‘I work with the Youth Theatre – the little ones – and there are always lots of costumes in the house.’ A pause. ‘She hasn’t been in all day, though. It cleared up a bit this afternoon, so we went for a walk.’
‘I’m sure she’s had a great time.’
The kettle squealed and Mavis refilled a big china pot standing on the Rayburn. ‘Help yourself to a scone, Jimmy. They’re just out of the oven.’
He wanted to collect Cassie and take her home. In the quiet of his own house he could reflect on the information provided by Simon Agnew. But Perez knew it would be rude to insist on leaving without taking the tea and at least one scone. This family had provided free childcare for two days and the least he could do was accept their hospitality.
‘They’re saying that the woman swept away from Tain by the landslide was murdered,’ Tom said. ‘Is that right, Jimmy?’
Perez didn’t ask who’d passed on that information. In Shetland news spread like a virus. ‘The death’s being treated as suspicious.’ He realized he sounded pompous again. ‘You don’t know anything about her? We think she was staying at Tain.’ Then there was a sudden thought and he turned to Kathryn. This was something he should have checked before, even though James Grieve had said the dead woman had never given birth. ‘You didn’t have any kids in the school from there, did you?’
Kathryn shook her head. ‘We haven’t had any new children since I started, and none of our pupils live in Tain.’
‘What about you, Tom? Did you ever meet the woman? Dark hair, exotic-looking. Not local.’ Because Tom Rogerson seemed to know everyone. He provided a bridge between islanders and soothmoothers, the oil industry and environmentalists. With his easy manner and charm, he would invite confidences and gossip.
‘I don’t remember meeting her, Jimmy, and from the sound of her, I would remember, eh?’ He gave a roguish smile and what was almost a wink.
Perez glanced at Mavis Rogerson, but there was no response. He’d heard rumours that Tom was a bit of a lady’s man, but perhaps he just enjoyed the reputation and played up to it. Perez thought Mavis Rogerson would know better than to take a daft middle-aged man’s showing-off too seriously. ‘You haven’t heard anything about the woman?’ he asked. ‘We still don’t have a name for her, but we think she might be called Alissandra. Maybe Alis for short.’
The woman only shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Jimmy, I only work a couple of stints in the Red Cross shop these days. I’m sure I haven’t had a customer like your woman.’ Perez wondered what it must be like to have a husband like Tom Rogerson, who was out at meetings most nights, while Mavis herself had little reason to leave this dark and rather claustrophobic house in the winter.
‘We’ve been told the school can open as usual on Monday,’ Kathryn said.
Perez was pleased he wouldn’t have to make the visit to the Rogerson home a regular event. The news made him feel suddenly gracious. He took another mug of tea and congratulated Mavis on her baking, but when he left soon afterwards with Cassie, it was with a sense of freedom. Life was slowly coming back to normal; the following day Cassie had been invited to spend the weekend with some friends. And Willow Reeves would arrive.
Willow phoned soon after he’d put Cassie to bed. He’d lit the fire and the house was warm.
‘I’ve been working all day on your behalf, Inspector.’
‘We think we have a first name for her,’ he said. ‘Alissandra. I’m wondering if she could be American – the owner of the cottage that was destroyed in the landslide.’ Perez wondered why he was so resistant to that idea. Because he’d had a romantic notion about a Spanish beauty who was a stranger to the islands, not a middle-aged American with an aunt who was a Shetlander? Not someone northern, restrained and buttoned up, checking out that her inheritance was safe.