Fran stood still for a moment. The noise made her feel giddy and a bit sick. She worried that she might faint and she bent her head and breathed in deeply. As she straightened, she thought she saw Duncan on the other side of the road, in intense conversation with a large woman in a red anorak. She knew it couldn't be Duncan. He would already be at the Haa with his drinking cronies, preparing to light his bonfire on the beach. She wondered if she was secretly hoping to see him. Tonight in her imagination anything was possible. The whole evening was like an elaborate sleight of hand. A Victorian invention dressed up as a Norse midwinter festival, a boat which would never sail, men as babies. This was fantasy masquerading as reality, a conjuror's dream. It made her head spin.
Up Helly Aa at Duncan's house before Cassie's birth had been very different. It had been carried off with a certain style. Duncan had always been a good showman. He had made the festival romantic. She almost wished that she was there, away from the crowd, standing on the frosty beach. The flames from the bonfire would be reflected in the sea. She stared back at the man she'd mistaken for Duncan, but now there was no sign of him or the woman in red amongst the crowd on the opposite pavement. I'm going mad. Is this how it is for Magnus Tait? Has he lost touch with reality too?
That was when she realized Cassie was missing.
It took her a few moments to believe it. She looked around her, expecting Cassie to appear with the same ease with which the Duncan lookalike had vanished. Then she forced herself to think clearly and logically. Cassie had dropped her hand when they'd bumped into Jan and Shona. Only babies held hands with their mothers. Fran had understood that, hadn't insisted. Now she peered frantically through the crowd trying to catch a glimpse of Cassie's blue hat. Nothing. She tried to remember if she'd seen Cassie once Jan and Shona had moved on. Her attention had been distracted by the image of Duncan. She'd assumed her daughter had been by her side.
She told herself Cassie must have followed Shona. They were probably all together making their way to the field to watch the burning galley. Jan would keep an eye on her. This panic was ridiculous. It was just as well Margaret Henry couldn't see her now. She pulled her mobile phone from her pocket then looked at it helplessly. She didn't know Jan's number. The crowd in the street was thinning. A group of lads stood, tins of McEwan's in their hands, shouting a bawdy version of the galley song. She pushed past them following the direction of the procession.
At the park the different squads with their torches circled the galley. There was no other light. The street lamps had been turned off at seven-thirty. It was very cold. There was a smell of smoke and crushed grass. She pushed through the laughing people, the families and the gangs of teenage kids, looking for Jan. Everyone was having a good time. They all wore anoraks, scarves and hats, and were as difficult to tell apart as the guizers in their masks.
In the flickering light they looked shadowy, exactly the same. Occasionally she would convince herself that she could see Cassie in the distance, but when she approached she saw it was a different child. Someone else's daughter.
The moment of burning had arrived. They did this to witches. Strange women who had visions. Someone was counting down from ten. Still searching she thought she saw Celia, a tall straight figure in a long black coat, her head tilted to one side. Of course she'd be there to support her husband. I thought you were a witch. Celia might have seen Cassie. She would at least be a familiar figure, if Cassie was wandering around, afraid and lost, someone else to look out for the girl.
Fran started making her way through the crowd towards the woman. But then the Guizer Jarl held his torch aloft and threw it on to the galley. All the others followed. There was an explosion of light and in the moment before it faded she saw Jan, standing on the edge of the crowd. Fran walked towards her, pushing past the stewards, too close to the fire. She could taste the burning paint and varnish at the back of her throat. Jan was engrossed in conversation with another mother.
'Have you seen Cassie?'
The panic in her voice made them stop immediately and turn towards her.
'I've lost Cassie. Is she with Shona?'
'No,' Jan said. 'I've not seen her since we were together earlier:
The galley collapsed in on itself. The long planks bowed and cracked and were engulfed in flame. All that remained was the dragon's head, held by its rib cage of charred timber, rearing high above the crowd.
Chapter Forty-Two
'Another girl missing:
They were out on the street, walking away from the market cross towards the pier, where it was a bit quieter. On the water the ferry was on its way south to Aberdeen, a moving frame of light. They'd watched the procession like ordinary tourists until the call came through on Jimmy Perez's mobile. It should have been Taylor's last night and they'd had a few beers. Not celebrating. Neither had felt like doing that. But needing to mark the occasion in some way.
Now they could speak without shouting and looked down on the black oily water.
'Another girl whose first name begins with C:
They'd both been thinking it. Perez put it into words.
'Could be a coincidence. She could just have wandered away from her mother. A night like this, how many missing kids do you get reported?' Taylor's Liverpool accent seemed stronger, more edgy. Who's he trying to convince? Perez thought.
He tried to keep his voice even. 'Fran Hunter's hysterical of course. She found both bodies. Hard enough to take. Now this. . : Perez thought he was close to losing it himself. He could feel the fear like liquid in his stomach, imagined it rising in his throat until it was drowning him. It was foolish to think about Fran, put himself in her skin.
He'd only panic like her, then he'd be no good to anyone. He had to hold himself together, think rationally. 'The crowd's clearing a bit now as everyone moves on to the halls and community centres for dancing. If the kid's wandered off and is out on the street, she'll be found in the next hour. I've got people looking. After that we can assume she's been taken. But I don't think we can wait that long. I don't think we can afford to:
'What about the rest of the team? What do they say?'
'They think I'm overreacting and that the mother's panicking over nothing. After all, the murderer is in custody, isn't he? How can he be back on the street, abducting another child?'
'We can be certain now that Mrs Hunter had nothing to do with Catherine's murder,' Taylor said.
'I never thought she was involved:
'Where is she now?'
'With Euan Ross. He's taken her back to her house.
That was where she wanted to be. In case a neighbour from Ravenswick has picked up the child and brings her home. Morag's there too:
'What was Ross doing in Lerwick? I'd hardly think he'd be in the mood for a party: He was looking for the ghost of his daughter, Perez thought. A slim, dark figure bent over a camcorder on a tripod. What would she be filming now, if she was here? And what can that have to do with Cassie's disappearance?
Fire and Ice. We got caught up with the father's obsession with a puzzle. We must have missed something more obvious. 'Fran thought she saw her ex-husband on the street, just before the girl went missing,' he said, leaving Taylor's question hanging, unanswered.