Raven Black

by Ann Cleeves

  He wondered if she'd say the same thing now.

  He opened the door slowly, just a crack at first, so if there were people there, he'd be able to shut it very quickly and put the bolt across. There was a car parked on the track below his house but he took no notice of that at first. He filled a tin bucket with peats and thought how clever he was to remember that. If the people came back at daylight he'd still have fuel. He put the bucket into the porch, then stood outside, just enjoying the air, thinking how mild it was. He didn't even have a jacket on and he hardly felt the cold:

  That was when he saw there was a man in the car. He was in the driver's seat. Magnus could see the shadow of his head. He must be watching me. He's been sat there all night just watching me. And despite himself that made him feel important, that a man had been kept up all night to look out for him. Were they scared of what he might do?

  Were they frightened of him? Were they?

  He walked a little way down towards the track. Not so far that he couldn't run back into the house if he needed to. Perhaps halfway to the car where the watcher was sitting. He thought of him as the watcher, though he couldn't tell what he was up to. He walked there to see what the man would do and to stretch his legs.

  Then something made him turn round. He looked up to the hill beyond the Lerwick road and saw the cars outside the Hunter wife's house, which had lights on in all the windows. And he saw the big van, which had been parked outside his house when they found Catherine, and the sparks of light from torches moving across the hill.

  And he knew then that they'd found Catriona. And soon they'd be coming to get him.

  When they came he was ready for them. He had a suit, which was hanging up in the painted cupboard in the bedroom. He'd worn it to chapel when he'd gone every Sunday with his mother. The last time he'd been, the last time he'd worn the suit, was the day of her funeral. Laying it out on the bed he remembered the service. That smell of damp was there and the smell of polish they used on the seats. He'd sat on his own at the front. All the relatives were dead. His uncle and his cousins. The place was full though. There were neighbours, people she'd grown up with.

  He'd heard the whispers, spoken just loud enough to be sure he would hear. He was the death of her. She couldn't stand the shame. Mary was always a proud woman.

  He found a white shirt. It was frayed at the cuffs but clean. He'd promised his mother he'd keep himself clean and most fine days he had washing on the line behind the house. He'd thought he had a tie, but he couldn't find one.

  In the top drawer of the dresser he saw the ribbons he'd taken from Catriona's hair. Quite often he took them out. Not to remind himself of her he would never forget her - but because he could picture her better when he had the ribbons running through his fingers. The silky feel of them excited him, made him think of the pink silky petticoat she'd worn under her dress.

  The shirt and the suit were too big for him. The jacket hung off his shoulders and he had to find a belt to hold up the trousers. He must have been a big man then, he thought, surprised. A big, strong man. He had nothing else to wear, so he kept them on, thinking his mother would have approved. Only decent, she would have said. A mark of respect. He put the ribbons on the table. He wasn't sure what to do with them. He'd stolen them. Perhaps Kenneth and Sandra would want them back. Then he made himself tea and sat in the chair by the fire to wait. He got up twice, once to use the toilet and once to put water out for the raven. It occurred to him that he should shave, but somehow he was too tired to make the effort.

  It was still dark when the policeman came for him, but it was morning. The clock said seven thirty-eight. As on the last occasion, the man knocked and waited. He didn't attempt to come in until Magnus opened the door to him.

  He looked exhausted. Magnus was reminded of men who used to go out all night for the fishing and came back with their hair stiff with salt and their hands red and cracked. When they got home all they wanted was their bed. They were too tired even to undress.

  'Come in: he said, 'and warm yourself through. You'll be chilled out there on the hill all night, even though it's not freezing any more! A thought came to him. 'Did you go fishing around Fair Isle? It would be good there for fish!

  'Not bad,' the policeman said. 'We had a few pots for lobsters. You can get a good price!

  'Are we in a rush?' Magnus asked. 'Will I make some tea?'

  The policeman smiled sadly and Magnus saw that there was no rush at all, rather he wanted to put off the time when they would have to leave. 'We just have some questions to ask: he said. 'About Catriona. And I would love some tea!

  'We could put a dram in it:

  'Aye, why not? Just a small one though. We don't want me driving you off the road!

  'Are you on your own? Last time they sent two men!

  'There's another chap waiting in the car, but we wouldn't want him driving. Safer me drunk than him sober!

  Magnus saw that was some kind of joke and smiled to be polite.

  'Would he want tea too?'

  'No, he's asleep. We'll just leave him be, shall we?' Magnus put water into the kettle and put it on the hotplate.

  Turning, he saw that the policeman had seen the ribbons.

  'They belonged to Catriona: he said. 'I took them from her. I thought her hair was prettier loose. Finer that way, I thought!

  'We shouldn't talk about Catriona. Not here. Not until we get to the police station!

  'I don't like the police station: Magnus said.

  'They won't hurt you. I'll be there and I won't let anyone hurt you!

  'Do you think they'd let me keep the ribbons?'

  'No! The question seemed to annoy the policeman. 'No, of course not! He changed his mind about the tea and said they should get off after all, because soon it would be light and the children would be on their way to school and the reporters would come.

  'Will I be coming back?' Magnus asked, just as they were at the door.

  'I don't know. Perhaps not for a while!

  'Who will feed the raven?'

  There was a silence. Magnus was hoping the policeman would say he'd take care of that, but he said nothing.

  Magnus stood there, waiting for the police man to speak.

  'If no one will care for the raven,' Magnus said at last, 'you must kill it. The best way is to hit its head against a wall. You can't let it starve in its cage. And if you release it, it will still starve. It has no way of finding food!

  Still the policeman was silent.

  'Will you do that?'

  'Yes,' the detective from Fair Isle said. 'I'll do it! 'It eats dog food. If you can find someone to look after it, that's what it eats!

  The room had been painted since he'd last been there - so recently painted that Magnus could smell it – but it was still the same colour on the wall. The colour of the top of the milk when it separated in the churn.

  That made him think of Agnes with the cow again.

  There was a big radiator and that was cream too. It was very hot. On his way in Magnus had heard the constables behind the desk talking about it. One of them said there must be something wrong with the controls, but the other thought nobody had bothered to turn the heating down since the freeze. He would have liked to take his jacket off. He could hang it over the back of his chair so it wouldn't crease. But he wasn't sure that would be respectful. So he left it on.

  The detective from Fair Isle was there and a woman, younger, who wasn't a Shetlander. The detective introduced her but Magnus didn't remember the name. If he’d been given the first name he would probably have remembered that. He liked women's first names. Sometimes when he found it hard to sleep he repeated them in his head. The detective introduced himself with the strange foreign name which Magnus had heard before and which now stuck in his mind. And there was a lawyer, who looked as if he had a bad head from the drink, wearing a suit much smarter than the one Magnus was wearing.

  It was a crush the four of them sitting round the little table. Magnus k
new he should keep the grin from his face. Sometimes he missed what they said to him because he was trying so hard to keep his face straight.

  'We're not charging you,' Perez said. 'Not yet. We'll just be asking you some questions!

  The lawyer had told him he didn't need to answer all the questions and again Magnus remembered his mother's words tell them nothing.

  'When did you get the ribbons from Catriona's hair?' Perez asked. 'Did she give them to you?'

  Magnus thought for a moment. 'No: he said at last.

  'I asked her if I could keep them, but she wouldn't let me.' He shut his eyes remembering the teasing voice why would you want ribbons, Magnus? You've hardly any hair.

  'You took them then?'

  'Aye, I took them.'

  Should I have said that? He was suddenly confused.

  Perhaps that was something to keep quiet about. But when he looked at the lawyer, his face was blank.

  'Was Catriona alive when you took the ribbons, Magnus?'

  This time he knew exactly how to answer. 'No, man. If she'd been alive I'd not have taken them from her. She'd have needed them. She was dead then. What use would she have of them?'

  'Did you take anything from Catherine Ross, after you'd killed her?'

  He was bewildered and for a moment he didn't know who they were talking about. Then he realized. Catherine.

  His raven. 'I didn't kill her,' he said, rising in his seat to make them believe him. The idea was so shocking that he stopped thinking about his face and he could feel the grin sliding back. 'She was my friend. Why would I kill her?'

  Chapter Twenty - Nine

  At breakfast, Sally's mother was full of the fact that they'd taken away Magnus Tait.

  'What a relief,' she said. 'My nerves have been on edge all week, knowing that he's been staying there, just up the bank.'

  Sally supposed that it was a relief for her too, though of course it couldn't bring Catherine back.

  'Did you see them arrest him?'

  'No. Maurice saw them take him away as he drove down this morning. He said there were so many cars all over the top road he could hardly get through.' Maurice was the school caretaker and cleaner. Alex came into the kitchen. He'd just come out of the shower and his hair was wet. He had on a short-sleeved T-shirt and carried his sweater over his arm, so he could put it on before he went outside. Sally thought he looked good like that, with the jeans and white T-shirt, younger and fitter.

  As young certainly as Mr Scott from school. Margaret ladled porridge into a bowl and put it at his place on the table. He poured milk on to it and started to eat. Margaret stopped talking about Magnus Tait and started complaining about one of the kids in school who wouldn't behave. Everything was so normal and ordinary that Sally thought she must have been imagining all the crazy things that had happened. When she walked up to the bus stop outside the Ross's house, Catherine would be waiting for her. Her father would look himself again, boring and middle-aged. Soon she'd wake up.

  The phone rang. They let Margaret get it. Sally thought the story of Magnus's arrest would have got out and everyone in Ravenswick would be wanting the news. It wouldn't do to spoil her mother's fun. She put her plate on the draining board and began gathering together her things for school. Alex was still at the table, slowly buttering toast. When Margaret came back in her face was flushed. She stood just inside the door and waited for them to look at her.

  'That was Morag,' she said. 'She thought we should know. It'll be all over the news soon anyway!

  In the past, Sally thought, Alex would have asked his wife what she'd found out, but today he just sat, chewing his toast, waiting for her to come out with it. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of asking. Sally was curious but she didn't say anything either.

  Margaret seemed driven to the verge of tears by their lack of interest. 'It's Catriona,' she said. 'They've found her body in one of those peat banks on the hill. Morag said it was perfectly preserved. You'd have thought she'd only died yesterday! She paused for a moment. 'That's why they arrested Tait. They've got the evidence now. Who else could it be?'

  Alex put down his knife. 'How did they find her?'

  'The rain and the melted snow must have caused a bit of a landslip. Catriona had been lying in a peat bed and the landslip shifted it. Cassie Hunter's mother was up there with that dog of the Andersons. It was she who raised the alarm!

  Sally was watching her father's face. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. 'Poor woman,' he murmured. 'What a terrible coincidence to fall over a dead body twice!

  Sally thought that sounded terribly funny. It conjured up a ridiculous picture in her head, Cassie Hunter's mother tripping up, falling on her arse. But she knew she couldn't laugh. 'At least Kenneth and Sandra will know what happened to the girl now,' Margaret said. 'They might even feel able to come home!

  At school Sally was the centre of attention again, because nobody else had heard the news about Magnus 'Tait and the dead little girl. In registration she told Mr Scott that Catherine's murderer had been arrested. His reaction surprised her. It was as if she'd given him a present. He thanked her, not in that polite, dry way that he might if she was handing in a piece of work, but as if he was really grateful. 'It was good of you to let me know so quickly. I wouldn't have liked to have heard it in the staff room!

  It occurred to her that Robert Isbister might not have heard the news yet either. It would be a good excuse to phone him. He'd been interested after all and it would mean she wouldn't have to wait for him to ring her. She didn't think she could stand the strain of waiting.

  First lesson was French. She couldn't bear French. She told Lisa that the news had made her think all over again about Catherine, she wouldn't be able to concentrate. Would Lisa tell the teacher? It was the first time she'd skipped a lesson without a proper excuse. She went into the toilets, locked the door of a cubicle and phoned Robert.

  He answered quickly. The reception wasn't much good and his voice sounded like a stranger's. She didn't have the usual physical response to hearing him.

  'Magnus Tait's been arrested,' she said. 'For Catherine's murder. They've found the body of the other little girl. I thought you'd be interested! Why did she know he'd be interested? She wasn't sure why he was so fascinated. Just ghoulish, she thought. Like all the others.

  'Any chance of meeting up? Can you get away?' He sounded dead eager and she thought she had him hooked.

  He wanted all the details, though really she had nothing more to tell.

  She ran through the day's timetable in her head. Nothing important. Lisa would tell them all she was upset.

  They'd assume she'd gone home. 'Sure. Why not?'

  He met her in his van on the harbour. She had to wait a quarter of an hour for him, with the gulls screeching around her head, and she was suddenly nervous. She thought he wanted more from her than chat and tea. More even than information about the murders. Was she ready for him? She'd made no effort before setting out that morning, hadn't even been in the shower because the talk about Tait had made her late. She saw herself as he would see her - a slightly scruffy schoolgirl, a bit overweight, with a bag full of books.

  When she got in beside him, he put his hand on the back of her neck, pulled her gently towards him and kissed her. She sensed something different about him. Relief. Perhaps that was what all the people who'd been touched by the drama were feeling. Not just relief because a murderer had been locked up, but because it would stop the police prying into their lives. They all had secrets. Mr Scott, Robert. Perhaps even her parents. Now the policeman from Fair Isle would leave them alone.

  He drove north without speaking. She stroked the fair hairs on his wrist and he played with her hand, rubbing her palm with his thumb. She wanted him to kiss her again, but was too shy to ask, and anyway there was an excitement in waiting.

  'Where are we going?'

  . 'I thought we'd go to Wandering Spirit. Would you be interested in seeing her?'

  His boat was
moored in Whalsay. That meant getting the roll-on roll-off ferry to the island. She tried to think if she knew anyone who worked on the ferry who might tell her parents, but Robert seemed so keen that she had to go along with it.

  They were at the front of the queue for the ferry and sat in the van on the quay holding hands watching it approach, squat and flat-bottomed and pitching forward with each wave. There were a couple of trucks and just one other van. They sat in the lounge for the crossing. Robert bought her coffee from the machine. He knew the man in the other van, who was sitting there too, but he didn't introduce her. While the two men were chatting about fish and some party there'd been at one of the bars on Whalsay, she looked out of the window and watched the island getting closer. She couldn't remember if she'd been there before. Not for years certainly.

  The boat was just as grand as everyone said it was, gleaming white and bristling with aerials and radar masts, much bigger than she'd imagined. Robert was very proud of it. You could tell how much it meant to him. It wasn't just a way of making a living. It defined him. It was who he was. When Sally thought that, she decided it was something Catherine might have said, and that made her proud too.

  He took her below and showed her the room where the crew sat when they weren't working. It had leather seats and a big television. There was a fridge. He took out a couple of tins of beer and offered one to her. She took it. She could feel the movement of the boat under her. It sat low in the water and the grey sea was very close through the glass. The horizon tilted, a regular, mesmeric beat.

  'Did you fancy Catherine?' she asked suddenly. 'I mean I can understand why you would. She was stunning to look at!

  'No,' he said. 'Honestly? I wouldn't have wished that sort of death on her. Of course not. But I thought she was a stuck-up cow. All that stuff about films and art. All that talking!

  'Will you take me to one of the parties at the Haa one day?'

  'I didn't take her,' he said quickly. 'She was there.

  We were chatting. That was all!