Cold Earth

by Ann Cleeves

  ‘I’m fine.’ The man was still looking at the sea. ‘I’ll stay here with the inspector until the reinforcements arrive. A dead man’s not much company, eh, Jimmy?’

  Perez thought Hay would rather answer his questions than those of his wife.

  They stood in silence until Jane climbed away.

  ‘Did you know Tom Rogerson?’ Perez asked at last. ‘Socially, I mean. Do you have any idea why he’d be wandering around on your land?’

  ‘None at all. And I knew him to say hello to, if we bumped into each other in the bar of the Ravenswick Hotel, but we didn’t mix in the same social circles. He was one of the Lerwick mafia, one of the decision-makers, the movers and shakers.’ His tone was matter-of-fact. It was hard to tell what he made of all that.

  ‘Was he a regular in the Ravenswick?’ That might explain the solicitor’s presence here, though the hotel was a couple of miles north along the coast, and even further by road. Besides, the man should have been in Orkney at a fisheries conference.

  ‘He and his wife came for dinner occasionally. I’ve not seen them lately.’

  ‘Did you ever see his car at Tain? He drove a Volvo. Black.’

  ‘No, Jimmy, but like I explained when you asked about the dead woman, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it, even if he was a regular caller. Those sycamores screen Tain from our land. You might see a car from the main road, but not from our house.’

  And that was quite true, Perez thought. The sycamores were windblown and stunted, but they’d provided privacy for Tain’s resident. ‘We’ve got a name for her,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We’ve managed to identify the dead woman. Her name’s Alison Teal.’

  Hay showed no reaction.

  ‘Does the name mean anything to you? She was an actress. At one point in her career, at least.’

  Hay shook his head as if the information was of no interest to him. Instead he nodded down at Rogerson’s body. ‘His daughter’s the teacher at the school. Someone should tell her, before news gets out. You know what this place is like. Jane won’t be on the phone gossiping. She’s not like that. But our lad’s at home and she might tell him. You know what kids are like with Facebook.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Perez said. ‘I’ll go to the school myself as soon as an officer turns up to control things here. And I’ll make sure someone gets to his house to tell Rogerson’s wife.’ He felt trapped here now and wanted to be away, to start asking questions, to think. He strained to hear the sound of a siren in the distance, footsteps on the grass above them. Nothing.

  ‘He led his wife a merry old dance,’ Hay said suddenly.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Everyone knew he had affairs. He didn’t even bother to be discreet. There was something kind of arrogant about that.’ Hay had turned back to the sea. ‘He was an arrogant man altogether, always flashing his money around.’

  ‘You didn’t like him?’

  Hay shrugged again. ‘Like I said, I didn’t really know him.’

  Now Perez did hear footsteps and the sound of voices. Jane appeared at the top of the bank with a young officer, who’d only recently joined the service. The man slid awkwardly down to join them. Perez gave him brief instructions about securing the site. ‘You let nobody on the beach, whoever they are. And you stay here, well away from the body.’ Then he scrambled back up the cliff and walked with the Hays back to the house.

  Jane offered him coffee, but he asked if he could take a mug into his car to make a few phone calls. ‘The school breaks early for lunch. I’ll aim to arrive about then, so I don’t have to pull Kathryn out of her class and tell her what’s happened in front of the bairns. That should give the school a little while to get in some cover, so she can go home to be with her mother.’

  In the kitchen Andy, the dark-haired boy with the piercings who worked in the bar at Mareel, was sitting at the table with a mug of tea. Perez nodded to him. ‘Did your mother tell you what’s happened?’ Just at the edge of his line of vision, Jane was hovering, protective.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Only we haven’t informed the relatives yet, so please keep the incident to yourself.’

  The boy nodded but didn’t speak.

  In the car Perez spoke to Sandy Wilson, who’d been on his way to show Rogerson’s photo to the assistant in the Brae Co-op. ‘Even more reason to do it now,’ Perez said.

  ‘You don’t need me in Ravenswick?’

  ‘Not yet.’ He paused. ‘When you’ve finished in Brae, go to see Simon Agnew. He’s the chap that set up Befriending Shetland, the counselling service in Lerwick. See if Alison Teal means more to him than Sandy Sechrest. It still seems a weird thing for the woman to do – turn up at the project’s office and then change her mind and wander away again after only a brief conversation. Maybe Agnew had met Alison before, in a professional capacity; she certainly had a troubled childhood.’ Perez remembered Fran’s description of Agnew. He’s just fun, Jimmy. But he’s done such valuable work with families and young people. For a moment Perez had hated the man he’d barely met. A second of pure jealousy. Because he himself would never be described as fun, and he hadn’t been sure that Fran considered his work had any value at all.

  At the other end of the phone Sandy coughed, to show he was waiting for further instructions, and Perez continued, ‘Can you get Morag to tell Mavis Rogerson that her man’s dead? No details. Just unexpected death. And see if Mavis knew that Tom was back from Orkney. We need to check if he ever went, of course.’ Another pause. ‘Did you tell Willow what was going on?’

  ‘Yes. She said she’d stay in the office. Awaiting instructions.’

  Perez could imagine her saying that. She’d have a laugh in her voice, mocking him for taking charge again. ‘I’ll speak to her now. I think it might be a good plan for her to come here to talk to the Hay family. I’m too close. We’re neighbours, and it would be useful to get another perspective on them. Two bodies in Ravenswick, both within a good stone’s throw of the Hays’ house. I can’t see that as just a coincidence.’

  He got out of the car to take his mug back to the kitchen and in the porch bumped into Andy, who was stooping to put on a pair of Converse sneakers. The boy was tall and seemed pipe-cleaner-thin in skinny black jeans and black sweater.

  ‘Are you going to work?’

  ‘No, I’ve got a day off.’ The boy paused. ‘I was coming out to see you. Mum said I should talk to you. About something that happened with Mr Rogerson.’

  ‘Had you seen him recently? On your land?’

  ‘No.’

  Perez looked at his watch. In a quarter of an hour the kids in the Ravenswick school would be queuing up for their lunch in the dining room that doubled as school hall and gym. When the bell went, he wanted to be there to talk to Kathryn. ‘It can wait then. Another officer will be here soon to talk to you all. You can explain to her what happened with Rogerson.’

  The boy nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen. Perez had a minute of doubt and was about to call him back, but the door closed and the moment was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sandy drove to Brae. It was a fine day to be out of the office and he felt his spirits lift. He parked outside the shop and wondered again what Alison Teal could have been doing here, buying champagne and couscous. Why hadn’t she done her shopping in Lerwick, where she’d have more choice? They still hadn’t discovered how she’d arrived in Brae. Without a car, it would take two buses and nearly an hour to get here from Ravenswick. They’d shown her photo to all the bus drivers and to regular passengers at Lerwick’s bus station, but nobody had recognized her.

  ‘But we might not,’ one of the drivers had said. ‘The weather we’ve had over the past few weeks, all you see is a hood dripping with rain and a pair of eyes.’

  Peter, the lad with the acne and the perfect visual memory, was still working at the till. Sandy waited until he had served a customer. ‘I need a few words.’

  ‘
Here?’ He was hoping for another unscheduled coffee break.

  ‘Bit public here, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’d best talk to the boss, then.’ He gave a complicit grin.

  The manager moaned about giving Peter time away from the till, but Sandy insisted. They took their coffee outside so that Peter could smoke, and leaned against the building, squinting against the bright sunlight. ‘We’ve got an ID for the dead woman,’ Sandy said. ‘She was called Alison Teal. An actress. Does that mean anything to you?’

  Peter shook his head. Sandy thought he’d have been too young to have seen Teal on television, and costume drama probably wasn’t his thing anyway. He’d be into BBC Three toilet jokes and science fiction.

  ‘We’re still trying to track down the guy you saw in the Mareel bar with her. If I show you a photo, do you think you’d remember him?’

  The lad shrugged. ‘I might do.’

  Sandy pulled a photo of Tom Rogerson from his inside pocket. Perez had got it from The Shetland Times and it showed the solicitor shaking hands with a minor member of the royal family. ‘Do you recognize him?’

  Peter nodded. ‘Sure. That’s Tom Rogerson. He’s on the council. He’s everywhere in Shetland, like a rash. But it’s not the guy I saw in Mareel with the dead woman.’

  ‘You’re certain?’ Sandy didn’t know what Perez would make of that. They’d assumed Rogerson was the man who’d collected Alison from the Brae shop and who’d been with her in Mareel.

  ‘Positive.’

  ‘Can you give me a more detailed description of the man you saw?’

  Peter took a last drag on his fag and threw it towards a skip. It missed. He closed his eyes against the sun, dragging out his illicit break from the till. ‘Like I said, he was respectable, middle-aged, wearing a suit. I guessed he probably worked for the council. You know, the offices are just over the road and you get folk coming in for a drink early evening.’

  ‘But the man himself . . .’ Sandy couldn’t blame the lad for taking his time, but Rogerson was dead and the investigation was carrying on without him.

  ‘Middle-aged. A suit. You know.’

  Sandy went into the store with Peter and bought a sandwich and a can of Irn-Bru for his lunch. He told the manager how helpful Peter had been and said that he might be back to talk to him again.

  He stopped for his lunch at Voe, because he had good phone signal there, and phoned Jimmy Perez. There was no reply. The inspector must still be talking to the young teacher in Ravenswick school. Sandy would have liked to head straight down to Ravenswick to be with the rest of the team, but he’d had his instructions. Simon Agnew worked three afternoons a week out of a small, anonymous office not very far from the police station and Perez had said that this was one of his days. A small plate on the wall next to the door said: Befriending Shetland: Family Mental Health Services. Sandy had walked down the street many times, but had never noticed it. Inside there was a waiting room with a box of toys in the corner. A woman sat with a toddler on her knee. The toddler seemed to be half-asleep; certainly she took no notice of the toys or her mother. The woman looked up. ‘You have to ring that bell to let them know that you’re here.’

  The bell was on the wall with a little notice. Sandy pushed it and heard it ring some distance away. Otherwise the building seemed unnaturally quiet. The window looking out onto the street had the sort of glass that you get in bathrooms and can’t see through. It filtered the sunlight and made it form odd shadows like bubbles on the floor. A middle-aged woman with grey hair and glasses on a string around her neck appeared.

  ‘Can I help you?’ Her accent was Shetland and very broad, which was a surprise because he didn’t recognize her. The whole place had a dream-like feel.

  ‘I’d like to see Simon Agnew.’ He wasn’t sure if that was the right way of asking. Perhaps the man was a doctor.

  ‘Do you have an appointment?’

  ‘No.’ He showed the woman his warrant card, trying to be discreet. He didn’t want to frighten the mother with the toddler or start rumours about the man’s role in a police investigation.

  ‘Just take a seat.’ The middle-aged woman nodded towards the row of chairs against the wall. ‘Simon has a client with him at the moment, but he should be free very soon. I’ll ask if he can fit you in.’ No questions about the nature of his visit. She must have had to learn discretion. Then she seemed to vanish, as silently as she’d appeared, and the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Sandy leaned back in his chair. He found himself lost in a daydream about Louisa. This was a place where it was easy to lose touch with reality.

  The grey-haired woman appeared again, but it was to call through the mother and child: ‘Maura will see you now.’

  Sandy looked at the clock. Only ten minutes had passed since he’d first arrived, though it felt like hours. There was the sound of approaching voices and a whole family came in through the door that led further into the building. They took no notice of Sandy as they walked out into the street. There was a brief flash of sunlight as the outside door was opened. Silence returned. After a few moments so did the grey-haired woman. ‘Simon has twenty minutes before his next appointment. He’ll see you now.’

  Sandy followed her down a corridor, past a number of closed doors. The receptionist tapped on the one at the end and showed him in. The room was bigger than he’d been expecting. He should have realized that it would have to accommodate a whole family. There was a small sofa against one wall and a couple of armchairs around a low coffee table. Simon’s desk was pushed against another wall and he sat to the side of it, so the desk didn’t come between him and his clients. The curtains were yellow, and though the same bubble glass kept out the direct sunlight, the room seemed very bright. Sandy felt himself blinking. Again there was a box of toys in a corner. On the wall there was a blown-up photo of a man halfway up a snowy mountain. Sandy wondered if it might be of Agnew himself, but he was wearing climbing gear and a helmet and it was hard to tell.

  ‘Sergeant. How can I help you?’ The man was already on his feet, hand outstretched. Sandy caught the flash of white hair and white teeth, before he sat down again.

  ‘We have the identification now for the woman who died, the one who came to see you here. Her name was Alison Teal. Does that mean anything to you?’

  The psychologist shook his head. ‘I’m afraid it doesn’t.’

  ‘She was an actress.’ Sandy thought this interview was a waste of time. He could have been out at Ravenswick with his colleagues. He put a copy of the photo of the younger Alison on the desk in front of him. ‘Was this the woman who came here to see you?’

  It took the man a while to answer. Sandy could tell that he was at least taking the matter seriously. ‘She was obviously a lot younger then.’

  ‘But it was the same woman?’

  ‘Yes, that was definitely the same woman.’

  ‘Did you know Tom Rogerson?’ Sandy supposed he could pass on the news of the man’s death. If Agnew hadn’t heard about it already, he soon would.

  ‘The councillor? Of course I know him. He was a great support when we founded this place. He was one of the very few people who seemed to get what we’re about. He’s one of our trustees.’

  ‘He’s dead.’ Sandy wasn’t sure how to say this tactfully. ‘I thought you might have heard. His body was found on the beach below Tain this morning.’ He paused. ‘We’re treating the death as suspicious.’

  ‘No, I hadn’t heard.’ Agnew turned away, so Sandy couldn’t tell what he was thinking. ‘I was in Fair Isle for the weekend. The minister there asked me to speak about the Befriending Shetland project to his congregation on Sunday, and it was a chance to visit the island. I went out on Saturday and I only got back this morning. I’ve come here straight from the airstrip at Tingwall.’ He looked back at Sandy. ‘I’m not sure this place will keep running, without Tom to fight our corner with the council.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jimmy Perez parked by
the gate of the Ravenswick school. It looked very similar to the school he’d attended in Fair Isle: a single-storey building with whitewashed walls, surrounded by a playground with a climbing frame and hopscotch squares painted on the concrete. It was quiet. The children were still working. His tension grew. He hated this – telling relatives of an unexpected death. He knew how the news would change their lives, shift their perspective and make everything seem different.

  A bell rang and there was a clamour of children’s voices. They’d be leaving their classes and moving to the dining hall for lunch. He got out of the car.

  He found Kathryn in her classroom. She taught the older primary children and she was collecting exercise books from the tables. The sun streamed in through the long windows. Perez tapped on the door and let himself in.

  ‘Jimmy.’ She seemed pleased to see him.

  ‘Will we be disturbed here?’ He didn’t want a child to burst in and see that she was upset. Or to be interrupted by a staff member with a frivolous question.

  ‘No, everyone else is at their lunch. I’ve brought a salad. I’d be the size of a horse, if I ate Mary’s dinners every day.’ She sat on one of the small tables. ‘What is it, Jimmy? You look very serious. Do you want to talk about Cassie? Has she been having those nightmares again?’

  He perched on a table next to her. ‘I need to talk to you,’ he said, ‘about your father.’

  ‘He’s in Orkney. Some council business.’ She looked up, curious about his interest, but with no premonition of bad news.

  ‘He’s dead, Kathryn.’ There was no gentle way of saying this, of making it easier for her. ‘His body was found on that shingle beach close to Tain. Kevin Hay found him, when he was out checking his ewes this morning.’

  He saw that she couldn’t take it in. ‘No, I’ve told you, Jimmy, he’s in Orkney.’ Her voice was implacable. Hanging onto that fact like hope.

  ‘Your father had a flight booked, right enough.’ He realized that he was talking to her as he did to Cassie, when she woke in the night screaming for her mother. ‘But he never got onto the plane. We’ve spoken to Flybe. I’ve seen him, Kathryn. It was his body on the beach this morning.’