Peter nodded. ‘Sure. That’s Tom Rogerson. He’s on the council. He’s everywhere in Shetland, like a rash. But it’s not the guy I saw in Mareel with the dead woman.’
‘You’re certain?’ Sandy didn’t know what Perez would make of that. They’d assumed Rogerson was the man who’d collected Alison from the Brae shop and who’d been with her in Mareel.
‘Positive.’
‘Can you give me a more detailed description of the man you saw?’
Peter took a last drag on his fag and threw it towards a skip. It missed. He closed his eyes against the sun, dragging out his illicit break from the till. ‘Like I said, he was respectable, middle-aged, wearing a suit. I guessed he probably worked for the council. You know, the offices are just over the road and you get folk coming in for a drink early evening.’
‘But the man himself…’ Sandy couldn’t blame the lad for taking his time, but Rogerson was dead and the investigation was carrying on without him.
‘Middle-aged. A suit. You know.’
Sandy went into the store with Peter and bought a sandwich and a can of Irn-Bru for his lunch. He told the manager how helpful Peter had been and said that he might be back to talk to him again.
He stopped for his lunch at Voe, because he had good phone signal there, and phoned Jimmy Perez. There was no reply. The inspector must still be talking to the young teacher in Ravenswick school. Sandy would have liked to head straight down to Ravenswick to be with the rest of the team, but he’d had his instructions. Simon Agnew worked three afternoons a week out of a small, anonymous office not very far from the police station and Perez had said that this was one of his days. A small plate on the wall next to the door said: Befriending Shetland: Family Mental Health Services. Sandy had walked down the street many times, but had never noticed it. Inside there was a waiting room with a box of toys in the corner. A woman sat with a toddler on her knee. The toddler seemed to be half-asleep; certainly she took no notice of the toys or her mother. The woman looked up. ‘You have to ring that bell to let them know that you’re here.’
The bell was on the wall with a little notice. Sandy pushed it and heard it ring some distance away. Otherwise the building seemed unnaturally quiet. The window looking out onto the street had the sort of glass that you get in bathrooms and can’t see through. It filtered the sunlight and made it form odd shadows like bubbles on the floor. A middle-aged woman with grey hair and glasses on a string around her neck appeared.
‘Can I help you?’ Her accent was Shetland and very broad, which was a surprise because he didn’t recognize her. The whole place had a dream-like feel.
‘I’d like to see Simon Agnew.’ He wasn’t sure if that was the right way of asking. Perhaps the man was a doctor.
‘Do you have an appointment?’
‘No.’ He showed the woman his warrant card, trying to be discreet. He didn’t want to frighten the mother with the toddler or start rumours about the man’s role in a police investigation.
‘Just take a seat.’ The middle-aged woman nodded towards the row of chairs against the wall. ‘Simon has a client with him at the moment, but he should be free very soon. I’ll ask if he can fit you in.’ No questions about the nature of his visit. She must have had to learn discretion. Then she seemed to vanish, as silently as she’d appeared, and the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Sandy leaned back in his chair. He found himself lost in a daydream about Louisa. This was a place where it was easy to lose touch with reality.
The grey-haired woman appeared again, but it was to call through the mother and child: ‘Maura will see you now.’
Sandy looked at the clock. Only ten minutes had passed since he’d first arrived, though it felt like hours. There was the sound of approaching voices and a whole family came in through the door that led further into the building. They took no notice of Sandy as they walked out into the street. There was a brief flash of sunlight as the outside door was opened. Silence returned. After a few moments so did the grey-haired woman. ‘Simon has twenty minutes before his next appointment. He’ll see you now.’
Sandy followed her down a corridor, past a number of closed doors. The receptionist tapped on the one at the end and showed him in. The room was bigger than he’d been expecting. He should have realized that it would have to accommodate a whole family. There was a small sofa against one wall and a couple of armchairs around a low coffee table. Simon’s desk was pushed against another wall and he sat to the side of it, so the desk didn’t come between him and his clients. The curtains were yellow, and though the same bubble glass kept out the direct sunlight, the room seemed very bright. Sandy felt himself blinking. Again there was a box of toys in a corner. On the wall there was a blown-up photo of a man halfway up a snowy mountain. Sandy wondered if it might be of Agnew himself, but he was wearing climbing gear and a helmet and it was hard to tell.
‘Sergeant. How can I help you?’ The man was already on his feet, hand outstretched. Sandy caught the flash of white hair and white teeth, before he sat down again.
‘We have the identification now for the woman who died, the one who came to see you here. Her name was Alison Teal. Does that mean anything to you?’
The psychologist shook his head. ‘I’m afraid it doesn’t.’
‘She was an actress.’ Sandy thought this interview was a waste of time. He could have been out at Ravenswick with his colleagues. He put a copy of the photo of the younger Alison on the desk in front of him. ‘Was this the woman who came here to see you?’
It took the man a while to answer. Sandy could tell that he was at least taking the matter seriously. ‘She was obviously a lot younger then.’
‘But it was the same woman?’
‘Yes, that was definitely the same woman.’
‘Did you know Tom Rogerson?’ Sandy supposed he could pass on the news of the man’s death. If Agnew hadn’t heard about it already, he soon would.
‘The councillor? Of course I know him. He was a great support when we founded this place. He was one of the very few people who seemed to get what we’re about. He’s one of our trustees.’
‘He’s dead.’ Sandy wasn’t sure how to say this tactfully. ‘I thought you might have heard. His body was found on the beach below Tain this morning.’ He paused. ‘We’re treating the death as suspicious.’
‘No, I hadn’t heard.’ Agnew turned away, so Sandy couldn’t tell what he was thinking. ‘I was in Fair Isle for the weekend. The minister there asked me to speak about the Befriending Shetland project to his congregation on Sunday, and it was a chance to visit the island. I went out on Saturday and I only got back this morning. I’ve come here straight from the airstrip at Tingwall.’ He looked back at Sandy. ‘I’m not sure this place will keep running, without Tom to fight our corner with the council.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jimmy Perez parked by the gate of the Ravenswick school. It looked very similar to the school he’d attended in Fair Isle: a single-storey building with whitewashed walls, surrounded by a playground with a climbing frame and hopscotch squares painted on the concrete. It was quiet. The children were still working. His tension grew. He hated this – telling relatives of an unexpected death. He knew how the news would change their lives, shift their perspective and make everything seem different.
A bell rang and there was a clamour of children’s voices. They’d be leaving their classes and moving to the dining hall for lunch. He got out of the car.
He found Kathryn in her classroom. She taught the older primary children and she was collecting exercise books from the tables. The sun streamed in through the long windows. Perez tapped on the door and let himself in.