Catherine was a young woman, sexy and defiant. Perez hoped that the team from Inverness would come with open minds. He planned to get at them before they were infected by the Shetland gossip and the locals' distrust of an old man who'd become an outsider.
The silence was broken by the buzz of the small generator they'd brought in to power the lights. For some reason Sandy must have started the engine. A couple of minutes later Perez's phone rang. It was the constable who'd been sent to Sumburgh to meet the plane. 'It's landed. We'll be on our way shortly! Perez was amused, but not surprised, that Sandy Wilson had been informed of the news before him. Brian at the airport and Sandy had been brought up on Whalsay together. It was how things worked.
There were six of them in the team from Inverness. One crime scene investigator, two DCs, two DSs and a DI, who would act as senior investigating officer. The same rank as Perez, but with more experience, so he'd take charge. They came in two cars. Perez felt momentarily resentful at the intrusion on his daydreams. He felt soporific.
It was an effort to move. He opened his door and stepped out. In the warmth of the car, he had forgotten how cold it was. He was still feeling half asleep as the DI introduced himself, was aware of a loud, eager voice and a knuckle-squeezing handshake. There wasn't a lot to do until the crime scene investigator went in. Jane Meltham was a cheerful, competent woman with a broad Lancashire accent and a dry, black humour. They watched her open the boot and bring out her case.
'What'll you do with the body when you've finished with it?' she asked.
'It'll go to Annie Goudie's mortuary: Perez said. 'She's the undertaker in Lerwick. We'll keep it there until we can ship it south!
'When'll that be?'
'Well, it's missed the ferry tonight. We can't get it on a plane. It'll be tomorrow evening now!
'No rush then! She was climbing into a paper suit. 'I hope this is big enough to get over my jacket. If I have to take off my coat, I'll freeze and it'll be the pair of us you'll be shipping to Aberdeen! She pulled on the hood, clipping back stray hairs. 'Don't the other passengers mind sharing the boat with a body?'
'They don't know,' Perez said. 'We use an old 'transit van. It's kind of anonymous!
'Who's doing the post mortem?'
'Billy Morton at the university!
'Great: she said. 'He's the best in the business! Perez thought she was a woman of sound judgement. He rated Billy Morton too. Jane looked up at him.
'You realize I probably won't get done tonight. I'll have to come back at first light!
'I was hoping,' Perez said, 'we wouldn't have to leave the body. That's a school down there. The kids have to come past. And it's been out here for a full day already!
'OK' He could tell she was considering the matter carefully. She wasn't one of those officials who make problems just for the sake of seeming important. 'If there's any way we can manage it, we'll shift her tonight!
She went through the gap in the wall. They watched her circle the field to approach the body from a different angle, avoiding all the footprints in the snow. When she was almost at the body, she shouted back at them.
'What's the weather forecast for tomorrow?' 'Not much change. Why?'
'If there was going to be a sudden thaw I'd work on these now. There seems to have been a lot of tramping backwards and forwards. Nothing's very clear. It's possible that we'll get something, but I'll leave it until the morning, concentrate on the body!
She looked very odd in the fierce light. Everything was white. It made Perez think of a horror movie he'd seen once, about the world after nuclear fallout, all mutants and monsters. And he realized they were all staring at her, the locals and the incomers. They were fascinated by her progress over the hard ground. They watched her in silence. She held their attention completely. There was no weighing up of personalities, no discussion of the case.
That would come later.
It came when they were all crammed into a bedroom in a hotel in the town. It had been allocated to the two DCs and the inspector from Inverness had commandeered it for them all to come together to talk about the case.
There were two twin beds, but still it wasn't that big and it was slightly shabby, with dusty curtains and a threadbare carpet. For some reason, Perez felt slightly embarrassed by it. Was this the best they had to offer the incomers?
What would they think? Roy Taylor, the DI, had opened a bottle of Bell's and they were drinking out of whatever came to hand - tea cups, plastic mugs from the bathroom, a polystyrene mug which had held airport coffee.
Perez was sitting on the floor, watching. Taylor held centre stage from one of the beds. Perez hadn't decided yet what he made of him. He was young to be a DI, mid-thirties. His hair was shaved very close to hide premature balding. It made his head look like a skull. This could even be his first case as SIO. He was certainly driven. Perez could tell that. Naked ambition? Perhaps, but Perez thought there was more to it. From the moment he'd pulled the bottle of whisky from his holdall, the man hadn't stopped asking questions. And at first it was hard to make out what he was saying. He might work in Inverness now, but that wasn't where he was born. 'I'm from Liverpool,' he said when Perez asked. 'The greatest city in the world!
Taylor listened to the answers as ferociously as he fired out the questions. He didn't take notes but Perez thought the replies must be branded on his brain. It was as if he felt cheated because he hadn't been on the island early enough to carry out the initial investigation. Perez could imagine him pacing backwards and forwards in the terminal at Dyce, counting the seconds to take-off, swearing under his breath when he learned the plane would be late.
Now Taylor got off the bed and stretched. He was standing on the balls of his feet and reached up towards the ceiling. Perez was reminded of an ape he'd seen in Edinburgh Zoo on a school trip. It had pushed against the bars of the enclosure, needing more space. Taylor was a man who'd always need more space, Perez thought. Stick him in the middle of an African savannah and it still wouldn't seem enough for him. The boundaries must be somewhere inside his head. A stupid thought. He'd drunk the Scotch too quickly.
He realized they were all talking about bringing in Magnus Tait, about how they'd handle it, who'd do the interview. One local and one member of the Inverness team, they decided. And they'd play it gently. Taylor had looked at the Catriona Bruce notes. There'd been an implication that Tait had been roughly handled, he said. No one was going to play silly buggers like that this time. He wasn't having the case thrown out because one of his team lost it. And they were all one team now.
He was including Shetlanders too. He looked around and seemed to embrace them in a sweep of his arm.
Perez could tell that he meant every word of it. Anyone else talked like that and it would make you feel like puking.
Taylor could get away with it. He had them eating out of the palm of his hand.
'I don't think we should jump to the conclusion that Magnus Tait is a killer! Jimmy Perez hadn't meant to speak.
Perhaps he'd been infected by Taylor’s fervour. He sat in his corner, swirling the oily whisky in his glass.
'Why?' Taylor stopped stretching. He crouched, a hand on each side of his body on the floor to steady himself, reminding Perez again of an ape. His face was level with Perez's now.
Perez listed the concerns, the problems he'd been worrying over as he sat in the car. The victims were different. If Tait was a killer, why had he waited this long to do it again? Catherine Ross was a streetwise girl from the city. She was physically strong. She wouldn't stand there waiting for Magnus to murder her.