Robert phoned her when they got back to the Land Rover. She was sitting in the passenger seat on her own, fiddling with the radio, trying to get some decent music. Alex had gone to chat to the woman in the farm. The new people were interested in natural history, he said. He'd get them to look out for more oiled birds on the beach. She watched him walk up to the front door. He opened it without knocking and took his boots off, leaving them on the step. And that was when Robert phoned. It couldn't have been better timing. Almost as if he'd been watching, waiting until she was on her own.
'Do you want to come out tonight?'
'I can't! She didn't have the energy to make up an excuse to get away from her parents. It would be a nightmare without Catherine to cover for her.
'When then?'
'I don't know,' she said. 'Give me a ring next week. During the day. If I'm in class I'll call you back later.' She wanted to ask what he'd been doing, to chat, to make ordinary conversation.
But he said, 'I don't know when it'll be. I'm taking the boat out.' Then he hung up.
It was a quarter of an hour later when her father got back and by then she was very cold. She wondered what he could have been up to in the house with the young woman. She was proud of herself for not falling in straight away with Robert's plans, but she wished she had something more definite to look forward to.
The following morning she went to the kirk with her parents, because she didn't have the energy to make a fuss. While they were praying for peace in the world she was thinking about Robert Isbister. Of course. He
/ was always there, distracting her, worming his way into her head. Why hadn't she gone with him when he asked her?
Why hadn't she fixed a definite date for later in the week? The familiar words washed over her and she joined in the responses but she didn't hear a thing. She wondered if her father, dressed in a suit, scrubbed and polished, was listening or if his mind was elsewhere too. Afterwards, while her parents stood chatting, the minister came up to her and patted her hand. He was an obese man, so fat that the effort of walking made him wheeze. 'If you need anyone to talk to, you know where I am. This must be a very difficult time.' She could hardly say he'd be the last man in the world she'd confide in, so she just thanked him and hurried off to wait outside.
Sundays followed the same pattern. After the service came Sunday lunch. Margaret always put the joint in the oven and peeled the potatoes before they set out for the kirk, so when they got back there wasn't too much to do.
They were driving back down towards the school after the service and Sally was lost in thought when Margaret said,
'Should we ask Mr Ross to have the meal with us? It must be dreadful for him sitting on his own in that great house.
There'd be plenty of food.'
Sally was horrified. She tried to imagine Mr Ross, sitting at their kitchen table while her mother hacked at the overcooked meat and picked ,away at him with her questions.
'I think it's too soon,' Alex said. 'He'd see it as an intrusion. Maybe later.'
Her mother seemed to accept that and they ate, as usual, on their own.
They were sitting by the fire when the phone went. Margaret was knitting but had her eyes glued to the omnibus edition of a soap, which she pretended to despise but always watched. Sally had just finished the washing-up. Her father had changed out of his suit and was reading. He got up to answer the phone but her mother set down her knitting and said, 'It's all right. I'll go. It'll probably be a parent.' Margaret liked speaking on the phone even better than she liked watching bad television. She felt in control with the receiver in her hand. Important. She had a special voice, calm and a touch patronizing for parents. But she came back almost immediately and seemed a little put out.
'It's for you,' she said to Alex. 'That detective.'
Chapter Twenty-Five
Perez met Roy Taylor for lunch in the bar of the hotel where the Inverness boys were staying. Taylor had suggested it. 'Just a chat; he'd said. 'You can fill me in on your meeting with Hunter. We can think where we want to go from here.' Perez didn't mind. Sunday was his mother's day for a long phone call and he still didn't have an answer for her. He stuck his head round the door of the Incident Room on his way through town.
Taylor had done the news conference and the phones had been ringing ever since. There was nothing useful though. Not at this stage. Mostly it was people reporting cars they didn't recognize on the road south from Lerwick on the night of the 4th. Some people who'd seen Catherine at the party at the Haa.
The bar was full of people eating Sunday lunch. Most of them recognized Perez, but they could see he was busy and didn't bother him. Taylor seemed depressed. He listened to Perez's story of the interview with Duncan Hunter in silence. He'd bought drinks as soon as they'd come in, but most of his pint was left untouched. They were sitting in a gloomy corner where no one could overhear them.
'I've phoned Mr Ross and asked him to find the camera for us,' Perez said. 'If Catherine was filming the party we might be able to identify more of the people there.'
Taylor looked up from his beer. 'I thought we'd have made more progress by today. I'd hoped it would all be cleared up by this weekend. It's turned out to be more complicated than I'd hoped.'
Perez saw the Englishman had come to Shetland thinking it would be a simple case that he'd sort it quickly and return home in glory.
Taylor took a quick gulp from his pint. 'Is there anything we've missed?'
'Alex Henry; Perez said. 'The teacher's husband. We got a statement from him because he was second person on the scene, but nobody's really talked to him. If we are linking the murder of Catherine Ross with Catriona Bruce's disappearance, maybe we should. He stays right beside the house where both girls lived.'
'He was living there when Catriona went missing?'
'Margaret Henry has been teacher at Ravenswick for years. She taught the girl. There's a statement in the file.
She might even have been the last person to see her before she vanished. She claimed to see Catriona run up the track towards Hillhead that afternoon. It was a Saturday. No school.'
'Was he interviewed at the time too?'
'Only briefly. Everyone was convinced Magnus Tait was the killer.'
'Tell me about him.'
'There's not a lot to tell. He's a scientist. Conservation Officer for Shetland Islands Council. It's his job to monitor the natural history, consider planning applications. The post was created with oil money originally. He seems conscientious. He's made a few enemies - you know the sort of thing. Objecting to house building on the grounds that a marsh with rare plants in it would be drained. The fishermen hate him because he's threatened to prosecute them for shooting seals. He's quiet. A family man. A bit of a loner maybe!
'We'll go and see him then, shall we?' 'You want to come?'
'Go on Jimmy. Let me! And Taylor smiled, pretending to be a kid, begging to be let into the big boys' gang.
Perez didn't say that as he was the SIO he could do what he liked.
'I’ll phone him. This afternoon OK?'
'Don't you have a life, Jimmy? Someone you want to spend your Sunday afternoon with?'
'Nothing that won't wait'