That's where she is then. That explains it. She'd not wander off with a stranger, would she? Not without a fuss.
Maybe you are overreacting lad. You've tried to contact the father?'
'Of course. Landline and mobile. Nothing:
'That doesn't mean he hasn't got her. Maybe there was some mix up with arrangements. A breakdown in communication. . :
'Not according to the mother. Duncan had wanted Cassie at his place for Up Helly Aa. Fran refused. Made it quite clear it wasn't going to happen. There was a bit of a row about it:
'So he took her out of spite?'
Surely, Perez thought, not even Duncan would be that cruel. But he couldn't rule it out as a possibility.
'Do you want me to go out to the kiddie's dad's then?' Taylor was getting impatient. He couldn't understand what Perez was about, standing here, daydreaming.
'No. I know the way and I'll be quicker. You stay here and coordinate the search on the ground: The traffic was heavy coming out of town, nose to tail past the power station, then it cleared suddenly and he could put his foot down. Speeding. probably just on the limit if they checked for drink. He slowed up a bit through Brae, then he was on his way down the hill and he could see the bonfire already lit on the beach and the black figures silhouetted against the flames. If Duncan was out there, he wouldn't answer his phone. That part of the coast was a black hole for mobiles. There was no reception at all.
There seemed to be lights in all the downstairs windows of the house. He was reminded of the old days before Duncan was married, when everyone young and bright wanted to be here for Up Helly Aa, leaving Lerwick to the tourists and the old folk. Perez had been glad enough of an invitation then. He'd brought Sarah with him from Aberdeen, her first visit to Shetland and she'd been impressed. Duncan had flirted with her of course and she'd responded in a polite, friendly way. Flattered but not taken in by him. She had always been a woman of sound judgement. She'd divorced Jimmy Perez, hadn't she? That showed some sense.
He drove into the walled courtyard and parked the car. Despite all the lights there was no sound from the house.
He could see into the kitchen from the courtyard, the stack of cans and bottles on the table, but the room was empty.
Everyone must be on the beach.
Perez tried to rehearse what he'd say to Duncan if Cassie was here. If Duncan had taken her from a busy street to make a point. To suggest that Fran wasn't a vigilant mother. Or as Taylor had said, just out of spite because Fran hadn't wanted him to have the girl at the Haa. Perez knew it would be important to keep his temper. He was involved with the family, but he couldn't let it show. He might even have to let Cassie stay here. He'd just call Fran and let her know the girl was safe. Leave it up to her to decide what to do next. But even while he was running through the scenarios in his head, he couldn't allow himself to believe that Cassie was really here, safe and well.
That would be tempting providence. He wanted it so much, he couldn't let himself believe it was true.
The first person he saw on the beach was Celia. What was she doing there? The addiction to Duncan must have been too much in the end. She was standing apart from the others, drinking beer straight from the bottle. Her head was tipped back and she emptied the last quarter in one go, then threw the bottle on to the fire. It smashed into pieces on the big smooth pebbles containing the embers. Perez didn't want to get into a discussion about whether she and Duncan were back together. She heard his footsteps on the shingle behind her and turned suddenly. When she saw who it was, she seemed disappointed. Nobody else, amid the drinking and laughing, noticed his presence.
'Where's Duncan?'
'God knows,' she said. 'I've only just arrived.
Perhaps he's hiding from me. He might be in bed with one of the pretty young things he always invites to these dos, but it's a bit early for that even for him. He usually stays dressed long enough to welcome his guests!
'Have you seen Cassie?'
'No. Is she here?' She took another bottle from the crate which stood at her feet, pulled an opener from her coat pocket and flipped off the top. 'Perhaps that's where he is, then, playing happy families. Cocoa and a story before bedtime, a reformed character!
He was surprised at the bitterness in her voice. 'Haven't you seen him?'
'No,' she said. 'I was in town watching Michael in his moment of glory as Guizer Jarl. Robert following him in the squad, counting the years till he's old enough to do it himself. He's wanted it since he was a boy. He used to act it out, parading through the house with a saucepan on his head.' She was talking to herself, the drink making her reflective, sentimental. 'I'm not sure why it means so much to him. Perhaps sometimes you need someone to tell you that you belong.'
'Was Duncan in Lerwick?'
'No,' she said. 'Why would he be? He never goes to Lerwick' for Up Helly Aa. He's above all that. He couldn't bear dancing with the middle-aged housewives in Isleburgh or the high school. He doesn't realize that he's almost middle-aged himself.'
'Cassie's missing: Jimmy said.
But Celia drank more beer and stared bleakly into the fire. She seemed not to have heard him.
Perez walked over to the crowd by the fire but he could see at once that Duncan wasn't among them. A young man in a long grey coat was sitting on an upended beer crate and playing the guitar very badly. The others gathered round pretending to listen, posing. When he asked about Duncan and Cassie they shrugged. He couldn't tell if they were stoned or drunk or they just didn't care.
He went into the house and started searching, frantic now. Someone had tidied up since his last visit. Duncan had a team of women in Brae he called in to clean for him, in return for a handful of notes and his lost little boy's smile. When the guests had arrived they must have gone straight from the kitchen to the beach, because the long drawing room was quiet and ordered, still smelling of wood smoke and beeswax. The fire was low and automatically he took a piece of driftwood from the bucket and threw it on. It must still have been damp because there was a hiss of steam before it caught.
He continued looking, because he didn't know what else to do and he couldn't go back to town with the job half done. He didn't expect to find anything. He went into rooms he'd never seen before, not even on the weekends when he and Duncan had escaped from Anderson High and had the run of the place. Right at the top of the house there was a whole floor which seemed to be unused. It was cold there, unheated. The floor was bare and many rooms were unfurnished, unsettling in the harsh light of the single bulbs, illuminated briefly as he switched on the light for a flash before moving on. Some were completely empty, some piled with junk. Then he heard a sound and he stood still. There were voices in conversation, a little laugh. The noise came from the last door on the landing.
'Duncan!' His voIce was cracked and breathless.
The voices fell silent, so he wondered if he had imagined them, mistaken the breeze which had picked up outside for human whispers. But the door didn't fit properly and light spilled under it. He walked quietly up to it and threw it open. Inside was an attic with a ceiling vaulted like the roof of a cathedral. A long window was covered by a piece of muslin so flimsy that it moved in the draught from the ill-fitting glass.
There was a bed as wide as it was long with carved wooden posts at each corner and heaped with faded quilts and rugs. And in the bed sprawled two young people, a man and a woman, not cold, apparently, although they Were only half dressed and not covered wholly by a quilt. They were sharing a post-coital cigarette. They were very young - sixteen? Seventeen? His entrance had shocked them but they looked out at him with a smug warmth which made him envy them. He gave a wave of apology, then shut the door behind him. He ran down the three flights of stairs and outside.