Perez called in at the Bod again on his way back from Utra and was surprised to find Sophie still there. He didn’t have her as the sort of woman to spend a whole evening in on her own. She was lying on the bed reading a book, a can of lager in one hand, and didn’t move when he knocked; she just shouted for him to come in. Now the sun had gone in, it felt cold in the stone building but she didn’t seem to notice. Her rucksack was beside her on the floor with clothes spilling out.
‘Is there still no news?’ Now she did seem almost concerned. At least she did look up from her book. ‘It’s not like her. She doesn’t usually do much except work.’
‘I wondered if you had a phone number for her mother.’
‘No. I don’t think they keep in touch a lot.’ She set down the novel and twisted her body so she was lying on her side, facing him. ‘Hattie’s mum’s a politician, more worried about her work than her daughter. Hattie didn’t say so, but that was the impression I got.’
‘What about her father?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘He’s never mentioned at all. But we don’t really go in for girly heart to hearts about our families.’
‘How has Hattie been lately?’
‘Well, she’s always been kind of weird. I mean intense. Mostly on digs you work hard during the day then party in the evenings. I think she’d keep working all night given half a chance. And she definitely has a problem about food. Most people eat like a horse on a dig – it’s hard physical work. She hardly swallows enough to keep a sparrow alive. But towards the end of last season she lightened up a bit. Maybe the place was getting to her, helping her to relax. When she came back this time she seemed full of the joys of spring.’
‘Finding the coins must have made her feel she doesn’t have to put in so much effort.’
‘You’d have thought so, wouldn’t you? But since Mima died she seems to have gone super-weird again. Withdrawn. I’ve had enough of the mood swings. And I’m not sure archaeology is my thing after all. I’m hoping to persuade my parents to invest in a little business for me. An old schoolfriend is opening a cafe bar in Richmond and she’s looking for a partner. More my scene. I mean, a girl needs some fun. I told Paul this afternoon that I was resigning.’
‘Did Hattie know you’d decided to leave?’
‘Well I didn’t tell her. I didn’t want to provoke one of her sulks. I thought Paul would do it when he took her off on her own this afternoon.’ She pointed to the overflowing rucksack. ‘I was making a start with the packing. Now I’ve decided to leave I want to go as soon as possible.’
Had the news that Sophie had resigned been enough to push Hattie over the edge, to make her hide or run away? Perhaps. She could have seen it as rejection of a sort. It hadn’t prompted Hattie to phone him though. She’d done that before her meeting with Berglund.
Back at the hotel, Perez found Berglund still in the bar, still working. He’d moved on to whisky, was sitting with a glass in one hand and a pen in the other.
Perez took a low chair on the other side of the table. ‘Sophie tells me she’s resigned.’
‘I know, it’s a bugger. I don’t know who we’ll find to replace her at this stage.’
‘What did Hattie make of the news?’
‘She seemed pleased. She said she’d just as soon work on her own. I have the feeling the girls haven’t got on so well this season. I’m not sure how that would play with our health and safety officer though, especially as Setter is empty now.’
‘You didn’t think to tell me about this when I was looking for Hattie earlier?’
‘It didn’t seem important. Besides, I’m still hoping I can persuade Sophie to change her mind. Haven’t you found Hattie yet?’
The question was an afterthought. He seemed curious but hardly concerned. Am I the only person to be worried about the girl? Perez thought. Even Sandy had thought he was overreacting. But Sandy had his own concerns at the moment: a grief-stricken father and a funeral to prepare.
‘No. I thought I should check with her family in case she’s left the island. I don’t want to organize a full-scale search if she’s not here. Do you have a phone number?’
He expected Berglund to resist, but perhaps thought of the search, the publicity it would bring to the university, made him suddenly co-operative. ‘I’ll have it in a file on my laptop. Give me a few minutes and I’ll get it for you.’
Perez made the phone call from his room. Gwen James answered immediately. ‘Hello.’ A deep voice, rich, pleasant on the ears. Perez had a picture of a dark woman, full-breasted, singing jazz in a shadowy club. Ridiculous. She was probably skinny, fair and tone-deaf.
He introduced himself; found himself stuttering, trying to explain, to hit the right note. ‘There’s no real cause for concern at this point. But I wondered if you’d heard from Hattie.’
‘She called me this afternoon.’
He felt a brief moment of relief. ‘Did she tell you she planned to leave Whalsay?’
‘She didn’t tell me anything. I was in a meeting and my phone was switched off so she left a message. She just said she’d call back. She wanted to talk to me. Of course I tried to phone her when I was free but I couldn’t get through on her mobile. She often has no reception there. Perhaps she borrowed a phone to call me, or used a public box.’ There was a moment’s silence. ‘I can’t help worrying about her, inspector. In the past she’s had mental-health problems. She’s not good when she’s under stress. I thought the island would be perfect for her. Safe, relaxing. And she did seem to have a great time last year. But on the phone she sounded quite ill and panicky again.’
It was as if she was blaming Shetland, as if the place had betrayed her trust.
‘Is it like her to take herself away if she’s feeling upset?’
‘Perhaps. Yes, you’re probably right. She preferred to be alone even as a child. Crowds always sent her into hysterics.’ She paused, then added quickly, ‘I don’t think I can come up. Not at short notice. I have to be in the House tomorrow. I’m not sure how I‘d explain my absence. The last thing Hattie needs if she’s unwell is a pack of reporters on her trail.’
She seemed completely in control. Perez remembered what Fran was like when she’d believed Cassie to be missing: so desperate that she could hardly speak. He wondered if this woman suspected where Hattie might be, if that was why she seemed so calm.
‘Hattie wouldn’t have gone to her father?’
‘I don’t think so, inspector. We divorced while Hattie was still a toddler and he’s never taken much interest in her welfare. He’s a journalist. The last time I heard he was in Sudan.’
‘Is there anyone else she might have contacted if she was feeling ill? A nurse or a doctor?’
‘I really don’t think so. It’s possible, I suppose, that she could have phoned the unit where she was treated as an in-patient. I’ll check. If they’ve heard from her I’ll get back to you.’ She paused again. ‘You will be discreet, won’t you, inspector?’
In the hotel he talked to Billy Watt, one of the regular workers on the ferry that ran from Whalsay to Shetland mainland. By now the bar was closed. Berglund had taken himself to bed without waiting to hear if there was news of Hattie and Billy had come along as a favour. He couldn’t get there earlier because his son wouldn’t settle. ‘He’s teething,’ Billy said, a great grin on his face. ‘Poor little man.’ They sat in Perez’s room, drinking coffee.
‘I think she might have left Whalsay on an afternoon ferry. Have you seen her about? Little, very dark. Would you recognize her if she went out with you?’