‘Perhaps someone got greedy,’ Perez said.
‘Blackmail?’
‘Maybe.’
‘I can see Jeremy Booth trying it on. He was a bit of a chancer. But again, why now? He’d always had money problems, but I’ve had a look at the company figures. It was solvent. Just. He’d recently found his daughter again. Why risk all that? And I can’t believe Roddy Sinclair was short of a few bob. He’d not need to resort to blackmail.’
‘Perhaps Wilding coming back triggered the series of events,’ Perez said. ‘His arrival’s the one thing that’s changed in Biddista recently.’
‘You’re right. And he was at the opening of the exhibition at the Herring House, when Booth played his stunt.’ He paused. ‘What was that about anyway? A warning? A threat? Did the flyer he was handing around talking about a death in the family refer to the poor sod we found in the pit? Only Lawrence wasn’t family, was he?’
‘Not quite.’ Perez paused. ‘Roddy’s father died later that summer. He was Bella’s brother. It would be a death in the family. But he had cancer. We know there was nothing suspicious about his death. We’ve seen where the body was buried in the graveyard just up the coast from the Herring House. My father was a kind of relative and went off Fair Isle to the funeral.’ He’d only just remembered that. His father in his black suit, flying out with Loganair. Some memories did stay hidden and it just took a trigger to resurrect them. He felt more at ease with Taylor than he had since he’d collected him from the plane in Sumburgh. Perhaps that’s why he said, out of the blue, ‘I was quite glad to see him go for a few days. It gave us a bit of peace. Strange how things were always calmer at home when he wasn’t around.’
‘My dad was an awkward old sod too.’ There was a moment of silence, of shared experience.
‘So what do we do now?’ Taylor stood up. It was four in the morning, yet Perez could see he was eager to be thumping on doors, shouting down phone lines, making things happen. But despite the flash of energy, it was obvious the man was so tired he could hardly stand.
‘We sleep,’ Perez said. ‘You can’t drive back to the hotel. Stay on the sofa. Fran won’t mind.’ He’d built a few bridges this evening. He and Fran understood each other better too. ‘Later we’ll talk to Wilding, find out why he lied to us.’
‘You talk to Wilding,’ Taylor said. ‘We don’t want to go in too heavy. That’s what you’re good at, making people believe you’re a friend. People like you.’
Not Wilding, Perez thought. He doesn’t like me. But he nodded. He was glad of the chance to talk to Wilding alone.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Perez phoned Wilding in the morning to arrange a visit. He thought a formal appointment might increase the pressure on the man. It might give the writer time to prepare a story, but while he was waiting for Perez to arrive, surely he would be becoming more anxious. He’d have heard by now about the bones in the hole. Even if he hadn’t picked up on the Biddista gossip, a press release had been issued that morning. It was bland and unspecific, but if Wilding had already known there was a body in the Pit, by the time Perez called he’d be quite sure that it had been found.
Taylor had gone out before Perez and Fran woke up. He’d collapsed on the sofa after Perez had forced him inside from the cold dawn. By then they were both shivering but exhilarated. Things were right between them again. Taylor had fallen asleep immediately: Perez had heard the gentle snoring while he was cleaning his teeth. Fran hardly stirred as he climbed in beside her. He didn’t like to wake her. There was an excitement lying next to her, knowing that he wouldn’t touch her and the thought of that, the anticipation, kept him awake for a while. Sexy images spinning in his head as the light behind the blind changed colour from grey to a milky yellow. Then he slept too.
Taylor must have left very quietly, because none of them heard him go. He’d left a note on the kitchen table. Thanks. Good luck.
Wilding answered the phone very quickly.
‘Yes?’ As if he’d been expecting a call.
‘It’s Inspector Perez. I wondered if I might come round. There are a few questions…’
There was a moment of silence. This obviously wasn’t the call Wilding had been expecting.
‘I’m afraid it won’t be convenient today, inspector. I’m just on my way out. I’ve bought a property in Buness. I’m on my way over there with a builder to see what needs to be done before it’s habitable.’
‘I can meet you there,’ Perez said. ‘I know the place you mean.’
‘Of course you do, inspector. I should have realized. There are no secrets on Shetland.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘Very well, I’ll see you in my new house. You’ll be my first real visitor. But give me an hour or so to talk to the builder and the plumber. I don’t need the news getting out that I’m being questioned by the police.’ He waited for a response from Perez, an answering laugh perhaps, or a reassurance that of course he wasn’t a suspect, this was just a matter of routine. Perez said nothing. ‘Well,’ Wilding continued awkwardly. ‘I’ll see you there in a little while.’
As Perez replaced the phone Fran came in after dropping Cassie to school. She was flushed from walking up the hill.
‘I’m glad you’re still here,’ she said. ‘I thought you might have gone. I bumped into Magnus at Hillhead and you know how hard it is to get away from him.’
He kissed her to stop her talking and led her back to bed.
Later he made coffee and took it to her. ‘What are your plans for the day?’
‘Work,’ she said. ‘Yours?’
‘Work.’ He considered how much he should tell her. ‘I’m off to see Wilding in his new house.’
‘Be careful,’ she said. ‘He’s kind of creepy. An obsessive, I think. One of those people who’ve never quite grown up, can’t do real relationships, only teenage crushes.’
‘Did he have a crush on you?’
‘On me. On Bella. Maybe on any woman who fits in with his fantasy of the time. I was almost tempted to work on his house, though. It’s a lovely place.’
Driving down the island, Perez tried to separate his prejudice from what he knew about Wilding. He was definitely a writer. Perez had checked on Amazon. Fantasy novels, quirky, funny but with a dark edge. He’d read some of the reviews. And he’d checked other things too. Wilding had spent a short time in the psychiatric unit of his local general hospital after his girlfriend had left him. He’d made a nuisance of himself, had become obsessed with her. Never violent though. Taylor had talked with the officers who’d taken the complaints. The woman hadn’t been frightened by him, just irritated and annoyed. They’d thought him weak and ineffectual, had never believed he’d cause her harm.
Usually that sort of history would have made Perez sympathetic. In his previous job he’d been famous for being soft on nutters. But he couldn’t like Wilding. Perhaps it was the money that repelled him. It was hard to feel sorry for a man who was very rich. One of the articles he’d tracked down on the internet had named the sum paid to Wilding as an advance on his last book. He certainly wouldn’t need to resort to blackmail.
Perez turned off the main road south, crossed the cattle grid and drove along the side of the thin loch that led towards the sea. It was another lovely day. Perhaps it would continue to be a hot dry summer. His thoughts turned to the photo of the group in the Manse garden, the men in smart clothes, Bella in her slinky red dress. Behind them a perfect sky. It had been hot then too. For the first time it hit him that Bella was the only woman in the picture. Of course he’d seen that, but he’d accepted it as natural. In most gatherings, even now that she was older, Bella was surrounded by men.
A white van came down the road in the opposite direction. Perez pulled in to the verge to let it past, waved at the driver. Davy Clouston, the builder Wilding must be using to do up the house. A good choice. Clouston was a fine workman. Not cheap, but reliable. Perez wondered how Wilding had persuaded him out at such short notice.