Perez arrived at Middleton School just as the children were leaving. He’d asked Taylor if he’d like to come too, thought Taylor could do with a break from the incident room, some fresh air, cold turkey from the caffeine. And if Perez did the driving he might even catch some sleep in the car. But the conversation with Booth’s agent seemed to have had a strange effect on Taylor. He sat at his desk, frowning, oblivious to the activity around him. He was quite still. The restlessness and fidgeting seemed finally under control. He didn’t even ask why Perez wanted to go to Middleton. He seemed preoccupied with concerns of his own.
‘Are you OK?’
Taylor turned then, flashed a grin, which immediately disappeared.
‘Yeah, fine. Things on my mind. You know. Nothing to do with this case. Work-related, stuff happening back in Inverness.’
Perez didn’t think he could push it. They’d reestablished a delicate balance in their friendship. He wanted to keep things that way.
It was classic Shetland weather, breezy with flashes of bright sunshine, and as Perez got out of his car a group of children ran out of the school into the wind, arms outstretched, yelling and laughing. He envied their energy. He waited until the playground was empty before he went inside. Dawn Williamson was in the school library, sitting on one of the small chairs in front of a computer. He stood for a moment watching her, but her body blocked his view of the machine so he couldn’t see what was on the screen.
‘Don’t you have a PC at home?’ Everyone did now. Most Shetlanders shopped online. One time, when you went south, people gave you a list of goodies unobtainable in the islands to bring back. Now people bought their CDs, books, clothes and even household items on the internet.
She turned, startled by his voice, then smiled, reassured, when she recognized him.
‘The hard drive’s crashed,’ she said. ‘I’ve only had the bloody thing for six months. It’s a real nuisance. Martin used it for work. Even Aggie had become a convert – she’s really interested in family history and there’s loads you can do online. I’ve just sent it back to the manufacturer. It was still under warranty and I couldn’t get anyone to come out to fix it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ve a few more questions.’
She stood up and leaned against the desk so she was facing him. Something about his expression seemed to panic her.
‘Is anything wrong, inspector? What’s happened now?’
‘There’s nothing new,’ he said. ‘Just questions.’
‘We’re all so jumpy. I heard you’d found another body down the Pit. It’s horrible, unbelievable. What do I tell Alice? I hoped she’d be protected, growing up here.’
Perez thought of the bullying he’d endured when he moved from the small Fair Isle school to the hostel in Lerwick. Kids were cruel wherever they lived. He didn’t think people were so different because they lived in Shetland. Not the children or the grown-ups.
‘It’s about the television documentary on Roddy Sinclair. You remember it?’
‘I’ll never forget it,’ she said. ‘You won’t believe the excitement it caused, the BBC coming to the school. They were here for three days and in the end the scene only lasted for about five minutes. The kids loved it.’
‘Roddy was never a pupil here, though, was he? He lived in Lerwick when he was in the primary.’
‘Dramatic licence, I suppose. Middleton’s a bit more scenic. And I think he did come here for a few weeks when he was very young. It was when his father was first diagnosed and had to go away to Aberdeen to hospital. His mother went too and Roddy stayed with Bella. He has come in to do some music with the kids since he started recording. They loved him, of course. There was enough of the rascal in him to appeal to them.’
‘How long did the BBC spend filming in Biddista?’
‘Quite a lot longer. More than a week. In the end the documentary was as much about the community as about Roddy himself.’
‘What did the Biddista folk make of that?’
‘Oh, they all pretended to be very cool, but they made sure they were out and about whenever the BBC were filming.’
‘Everyone?’
‘Well, Aggie’s always been a bit shy. She got Martin to stand in for her the day they did the bit in the shop. We persuaded her to pretend to be one of the customers, so the whole community was captured.’
‘Was Willy still living in Biddista then?’
‘He was. He was there on the film. Although it’s not long been shown on the television, they shot it last spring.’
‘So it was before Peter Wilding moved into his house?’
‘Yes, it was. Willy was managing quite well on his own then.’ She looked directly at Perez. ‘What is all this about? You can’t think one of us is a killer.’
He didn’t answer. He stretched and felt the tension in the muscles in his back. I need a bath, he thought. A long hot soak. Real food. Why do I think I enjoy doing this job?
‘I’m really sorry to have troubled you at work again,’ he said.
‘Is that it?’ she demanded. He saw that her nerves were tattered and she was having trouble holding things together. ‘No explanation for all these questions?’
‘Sorry,’ he said again.
He could see she wanted him to leave, but he hesitated, wondering if he could risk one last question. The question that had been in his head since he’d come to the school. ‘Have you any idea who the murderer is, Dawn?’
She stared at him. ‘I can’t believe you asked me that.’ He saw he’d pushed her too far, but couldn’t help continuing.
‘You might have heard something. People talking. I know you weren’t involved. You weren’t living in Shetland when all this started. But someone in Biddista knows.’
‘I can’t talk about this now. I want to get home, spend some time with my daughter. If you have more questions come to Biddista later when she’s asleep. I’d rather have Martin there anyway. I know it’s pathetic, but I can’t do this on my own.’
Perez thought how Dawn had been when he’d first met her. A strong and confident woman. This is what violence does, he thought. It makes victims of us all.
Chapter Forty-two
Perhaps it would be better talking to Dawn and Martin together, Perez thought. He drove out of Middleton a little way on the Lerwick road. He didn’t still want to be parked in the playground when Dawn came out of the school. She was jumpy enough and he didn’t want to scare her, didn’t want her thinking he was watching her. He pulled in to the side of the road, next to a few scrubby trees someone must have planted years ago as a windbreak, and made plans for the rest of the evening.
He thought he should call in on Kenny while he was waiting for Dawn to get Alice to bed. He could take the swab for the DNA. But didn’t think he could face talking to the crofter just yet. It came to him again that he needed hot food and a bath. And that would give him time on his own to order his thoughts. He was groping towards a solution but had no evidence. He still couldn’t see any way of obtaining sufficient proof to allow an arrest.
He drove back to Lerwick and parked in the lane outside his house. Inside he opened the windows, so the breeze blew the curtains and rattled the doors. A neighbour had the radio on and the sound blew in too. Perez recognized a track from the latest Roddy Sinclair album. He scrambled eggs and made toast and coffee and ate the food with the plate on his lap, perched in the window seat, watching the Bressay ferry make its way across to the island. Then he ran a deep hot bath and lay in the water, almost dozing, letting various scenarios around the case play in his head. He wasn’t usually one for conspiracy theories, but this time he allowed himself to consider the most preposterous ideas. Investigation was all about ‘What if . . .’ He thought Wilding must play the same games while he was writing his stories.