by Ann Cleeves
An unfamiliar car was parked in the courtyard outside the window and she had the idea that her life had been invaded, that everything was uncertain and it would never be the same again. Of course it had been hard to find Dennis Gear’s body hanging in the barn, but this was quite different. Then she thought it was as if all the events of the previous weeks – the strange notes and the gossiping parents in the school playground – had been leading up to this moment. Like the low rumblings before a massive thunderstorm and torrential rain, they were all part of the same event.
She saw then that her husband was crying. He made no sound, but his skin was wet with tears. She stood behind him and stroked his hair away from his face and thought this seemed more than shock. It felt like personal grief. He turned and she held him tight to her, just as she’d done when Christopher was so panicky earlier in the afternoon. Daniel’s body was lean and fit and she thought that hadn’t changed so much over the years, though her response to it had.
‘We’ll get through this.’ As she spoke she realized that she meant it. ‘It’ll be horrid – all these questions, that detective poking into our lives – but we’ve managed worse and it’ll pass.’
‘Have we? Have we managed worse? What can be worse than that?’
‘She was never really part of our lives,’ Helena said. ‘It’s so shocking because it’s not long since you found Dennis Gear. Twice in the same place. Of course that’s going to freak you out. But neither of them was close to us. We didn’t even know the old man, and Emma was someone we bumped into in the school playground or at the Moncrieffs’. It’s like seeing death and disaster on the TV news. I feel sorry for the starving children, but their pain doesn’t touch me. Not properly. Not like Christopher’s anger and distress when he can’t tell us what he needs.’
He pushed her away slightly so she could see his face. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
She thought he sounded like a moody schoolboy. ‘What’s going on here, Daniel?’
‘Look, you won’t understand.’ He paused. ‘I suppose you’ll find out anyway, when the police start digging. Her pain touches me.’
‘That’s how you are. Sensitive. No protective skin to stop the world getting in.’ She was getting scared now, worried what he had to say, and she wanted to lighten the mood.
He shook his head slightly. ‘I knew her quite well. We’d become friends.’
Just friends? But she didn’t ask the question. Perhaps she didn’t want to know. Not for certain. She stood staring at him, waiting for him to continue.
‘When we first moved here you were so busy. I’d been working on the house, commuting north to project-manage the building at weekends, still keeping the day-job in Islington. You know how it was.’
She knew how it was. Manic. Exhilarating. The sense that they were at the start of an adventure. Jumping off the edge of the world, each of them with a child in their arms. They’d thought that magically everything would change and be made right again. In a small community Christopher would get the help he needed, Daniel would have the time to write and to plan new projects, she’d find inspiration for her work. It had probably been the most optimistic time of their lives.
Daniel had started speaking again. ‘Then it all stopped. When I was working on the house and travelling all the time and fitting in projects for work, I didn’t have time to worry about the stress. I was coping. Then suddenly I had nothing to do and I was no one, and my world collapsed. That was when the stress, all those months of pushing myself, hit me. In contrast, you were a magnificent success. Of course I was pleased for you.’
‘But it was hard.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘it was hard. And then last month I came home to find Dennis Gear’s body. That was hard too.’
‘And where does Emma fit into all this?’ She tried not to sound bitter. She could have said: How do you think it was for me, while we were living in London and you were working flat out, never home? When I was having to deal with Christopher’s school on an almost daily basis and still find time for Ellie? But it had become a habit not to challenge Daniel.
‘We started talking in the playground – just chatting, you know. It was awkward, often I was the only dad there and it was good to have someone to talk to. Once or twice Emma brought Kate to the house to play with Ellie. They got on well.’
Oh, I bet the gossips hanging around the school loved that. The newcomer and the nanny going off together, the only adults in the house that they all hate.
Daniel was talking again, speaking very quickly. It seemed that now he wanted to explain, was desperate that she should understand.
‘Emma hadn’t had it easy. She grew up in Orkney. Her dad was violent, controlling. One day he battered her mother and ended up in prison. Emma was only fourteen. She had two younger brothers, and a mother who was a nervous wreck and could hardly hold herself together. She ended up looking after them all.’
‘And what were you?’ Now Helena couldn’t help herself. ‘A father figure?’
‘Yes,’ he said, with a spark of defiance. ‘Perhaps I was.’ He paused for a moment. ‘She was only seventeen when she moved in with the Moncrieffs to help Belle out with the kids. Kate was a baby, and Emma was used to looking after small kids – she brought up her brothers almost single-handed. Robert and Belle were kind enough, but they made sure they got their money’s worth, and recently they’ve expected her to deal with the teenagers too. Emma seemed to be caught between the adult Moncrieffs and the kids in Deltaness. In her twenties, not really seen as a grown-up by Robert and Belle, but too old to hang out with the teens.’
‘She did hang out with them.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘According to Christopher, she was there on the beach when they lit the bonfire and he came home in such a state.’
That detail seemed to surprise Daniel. She’d tossed it in as a weapon of defence, meaning: Emma wasn’t so lonely; she didn’t need your company so much. Now he seemed thrown by the information. ‘Are you sure? She wasn’t the one to bring him home.’
‘No,’ Helena said, knowing she was being petty and childish. ‘Perhaps she didn’t want to leave the party.’
Daniel didn’t reply and they sat in silence. She couldn’t bring herself to ask the question that had been with her since she’d seen her husband crying at the sight of Emma’s body. Were you lovers? She didn’t think she’d be able to face the answer. So she asked another, connected question instead: ‘Why didn’t you tell me that you’d become friends with her, that you’d invited her to the house? Why keep it secret?’
‘I didn’t keep it secret.’ Again, he sounded petulant, like a child. ‘We didn’t exactly have time to talk, when we first moved to Shetland. If you were at home, you were working. Even when I came out to the studio when the kids were in bed, you could hardly shift your attention away from your designs. Mostly you were away, at trade fairs, exhibitions, meetings with retailers.’
She nodded to concede the point. She’d loved the freedom of those months, after handing the domestic responsibility over to Daniel. She’d thought she was entitled to it.
‘I gave up trying to talk to you,’ he went on. ‘Then I got so miserable that I couldn’t think about anything but myself.’
Helena heard the kitchen door open and muttered voices in the hall outside.
‘Perez will want to talk to us now,’ she said. ‘Will you tell him about your friendship with Emma?’ Not using the word ‘relationship’ because that was too loaded.
‘Of course. If he asks. Why not?’
‘Because she was murdered,’ Helena said, ‘and they’ll be looking for her killer.’ A pause. The front door opened and shut. Soon Perez would be demanding to see them, asking his questions. Now time, which had dragged when she was in the kitchen, seemed to be passing very, very quickly. ‘But you’re right: we had better tell the truth. Because there’ll be stories already circulating round Deltaness. Gossip about you both. It’s impossible to have secret
s in Deltaness, isn’t it? Except from me.’ Then she realized that she still hadn’t told Daniel about the graph-paper messages with the image of the gallows, the hanging figure. Of course there were secrets that she’d kept from him.
Chapter Eleven
Although it was still light outside, the kitchen faced east and was in full shadow. Helena switched on a lamp that hung low over the table and they sat there, as they would if Perez had been invited to an intimate supper party. She made coffee without asking if anyone wanted it, and the questions about milk and sugar, the setting out of cups and spoons, added to the impression that this was a social occasion. Perez wondered if that had been Helena’s intention, then dismissed the idea. Surely the woman he’d met the day before wouldn’t have been so calculating.
‘Have you shown your husband the anonymous messages that you’ve been receiving, Helena? If not, I think you should do that now.’
Daniel looked from Perez to Helena, confused. Fleming wasn’t at all what Perez had been expecting. It was irrational, but when Helena had talked about wanting to protect her husband from the unpleasantness of the anonymous cartoons, he’d imagined somebody physically weak: small, grey, insignificant. He’d been quite wrong. Daniel was tall and obviously fit. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt, and the arms resting on the table were those of a climber or someone who worked out. He would have no difficulty throwing a heavy rope over a beam and hauling a body into place.
‘Anonymous messages?’ Daniel was staring at Helena, waiting for an explanation.
Helena got to her feet and fetched the satchel that was tucked behind the sofa. She spread the tiny pictures on the table in front of her husband.
‘This came on Friday. It’s the most recent and was hidden inside The Shetland Times. The other drawings arrived over the last couple of weeks.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ His voice was fierce. Perez might not have been in the room.
‘I didn’t think there was anything to tell. A few scraps of graph paper.’
‘But you told him.’ Spitting out the words as he turned towards Perez.
‘I called in to see Inspector Perez on Saturday morning.’ She paused and then the words came out as a cry. ‘He was Fran Hunter’s partner. I thought he would understand.’
‘And I wouldn’t?’ Daniel half-rose to his feet. Anger made him intimidating, scary. Every muscle in his face and his body was tense. He was struggling for control.
‘I didn’t want to worry you.’ After the outburst, Helena’s voice seemed very quiet.
Daniel returned to his seat, but the fury was still in his words: ‘Don’t ever pretend that you know what’s best for me. I am not another of your children. And you accused me of keeping secrets!’
Perez wondered what secrets Daniel had been keeping from Helena, but he decided that could wait until later in the interview, or when he talked to them as individuals. The rawness of Daniel’s emotion surprised him, until he remembered that Daniel had found Dennis Gear’s body too. To see the hanged woman in the same place would unnerve anyone. He would still be in shock.
‘Do you have any idea who might have drawn these, Mr Fleming?’
It seemed to take a moment for Daniel to focus on the question. ‘Any of the small-minded people of Deltaness who resented us moving in and building this house on what was once Gear’s land. I suppose Helena’s right – this stuff is ridiculous and not worth bothering with.’
‘You don’t see any significance in the fact that there’s a dead woman hanging in the barn where Mr Gear committed suicide? And that these messages have been arriving in the weeks just before she died.’ Perez waited with genuine interest for the answer. When Daniel didn’t answer immediately, the inspector turned to his wife. ‘Helena?’
‘I don’t think anyone in Deltaness would kill a young woman just because they dislike a family of outsiders. Emma Shearer had almost nothing to do with us. I met her occasionally when we went for social events at the Moncrieffs’, and in the school playground when we picked up the children.’ She shot a glance at her husband. ‘Daniel saw more of her than I did, at least when we first moved and he was doing most of the childcare.’
Perez sensed a tension, unspoken hostility, and picked his way forward carefully.
‘So, you might be able to tell me a bit more about Emma, Daniel?’
The silence stretched and at last the answer came. ‘She was sympathetic, a good listener. I enjoyed her company.’ Perez thought that he too was choosing his words with care. ‘She’d had it tough when she was a kid. I admired her resilience.’
‘Did she have a boyfriend?’
Helena turned away and looked out into the darkening garden. Perez thought she was afraid her face would give away too much.
‘Nobody permanent,’ Daniel said. ‘Some of the local boys fancied their chances. I think she went out with one a few times recently, but I didn’t have the impression that the relationship was important to her.’
‘Can you give me a name?’
‘Magnie Riddell.’
‘Any relative to Margaret?’
‘He’s Margaret’s son.’ This time Helena answered. ‘Magnie works at the waste-to-power plant in Lerwick. He travels down to Lerwick every day.’
‘That was where Dennis Gear worked. Before he got the sack.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ Helena said. ‘Is it important, do you think?’
Perez shook his head. ‘Probably coincidence. There are only twenty-three thousand people in the islands, and most of them have some connection with each other. You’ll have realized that.’
Helena smiled and Perez felt the tension in the room easing a little. He thought there was more to explore in the relationship between Daniel and Emma, but he’d do that when he had the man on his own. ‘Tell me about this morning.’
‘We all went out for a long walk,’ Helena said, ‘and took a picnic lunch.’
‘What time did you leave?’
‘About ten. We were home before two. I chilled out here, then went to my studio to catch up with some work. Daniel was in his office, Ellie was playing outside and Christopher was in his room. He spends a lot of time in his room.’
Perez nodded.
‘Can anyone confirm your movements?’
Helena stared at him, apparently incredulous. ‘You think one of us might have killed her?’
‘She was found on your premises,’ Perez said. ‘You must see that I have to ask the question.’
‘I was in my studio and Daniel was in the office. We had no visitors. No, we can’t confirm our movements.’ Perez was surprised by the snappy and defensive tone of her voice.
‘When was the last time you were in the byre?’
‘I haven’t been there for days, weeks even. I know it’s ridiculous, but knowing that was where Dennis killed himself, I avoided it. We got rid of the tractor and the other junk, but we haven’t quite decided yet what to do with it. The kids go into the byre sometimes to play. Ellie jumps off the bales . . .’ Helena’s voice tailed off and for a moment she seemed distracted by their plans for the building. ‘While they’re still young, we thought we might turn it into a play space for the children. In the winter sometimes they spend all day cooped up indoors. No chance for exercise. We were thinking of a climbing wall at one end perhaps, and it’s sufficiently high for a swing or trapeze to be fixed from the roof, if the beams are strong enough.’ She realized what she’d said and fell silent.
‘Daniel?’ Perez looked at the man. He seemed more relaxed now.
‘I was there yesterday morning. As Helena said, we’re starting to make plans for the place, and I wanted to get a feeling for the space before I started working on it properly. I was walking past on my way to the hill and went inside on impulse.’ There was a moment of silence. ‘I didn’t see anything unusual then.’
‘What about today? Anything that struck either of you as out of the ordinary?’
They shook their heads, almost in unison.
/> Perez was thinking that Emma had probably been placed in the barn while the family were out on their walk. Stringing up the body wouldn’t have been achieved quickly or easily, and the killer wouldn’t have risked being disturbed while the family were in the house. If these witnesses were telling the truth, of course. If neither of them was involved in the murder.
He explained that a uniformed officer would be stationed outside the barn during the night. ‘It’s standard procedure, to make sure the scene isn’t compromised. And to make sure that you’re all safe.’
‘We thought,’ Helena said, ‘that we were coming to the safest place in the world.’ There was a moment of strained silence.
‘I have to talk to Christopher.’ Perez got to his feet to show that he’d finished talking to them. ‘Where would be the best place to do that? Here or in his bedroom? Will he still be awake or should I come back first thing tomorrow morning? It would have to be very early.’
‘Do it now,’ Helena said. ‘He doesn’t sleep much, and it would be better to get it over, wouldn’t it?’ Looking to Daniel for confirmation. The man nodded. ‘I’ll take you up.’
Perez followed the woman up the stairs. While they were alone, he was tempted to ask about Daniel’s friendship with Emma, but he knew that would require tact and again decided it should wait for another time. It wasn’t a subject to be rushed while they were moving from one place to another. Instead he looked quickly at his phone; following Perez’s instructions, Moncrieff had texted that Emma’s car was still at the house in Deltaness.
They walked along a corridor that had glass panels, facing east towards the beach, along one side. It was as close to being outside as it was possible to be. He watched a gannet dive – sharp-pointed as a missile – into the water. Helena stopped at the last door, tapped on it and went in.
It was another extraordinary space, long and thin, stretching the width of the house, with a window at each end. Christopher sat at the west end at a desk, crouched over a computer keyboard. The last of the evening light streamed in. The opposite window looked over the shore. His bed was built as a shelf into the wall opposite the door and was reached by a ladder. Underneath was a debris of tangled clothes, crisp packets and orange peel. In the middle of the chaos stood an elaborate Lego model of a pirate ship. In contrast, his desk was tidy and uncluttered.
