Raven Black

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Raven Black Page 24

by Ann Cleeves


  Only Perez couldn't forget it. And neither could Taylor. Which was why they were sitting here, in Perez's house, and not at the police station, where Taylor might be caught lying down the phone to his superiors in Inverness. And it was why any resentment Perez might have had about an outsider coming in and taking over the case had evaporated. Rank didn't matter any more. They were allies.

  Outside the weather had changed again, brightened up a bit. The rain had stopped and the wind had eased. The forecast for January 25th was for high pressure and frost. That would be fine for Up Helly Aa, a clear night so you could see the bonfire for miles. In town that was what the talk was about - the boat, the procession and who would lead it - and already the tourists had started to arrive.

  They were sitting in the wood-panelled room and a milky sun was reflected from the water. Perez had made coffee, a big cafetiere which was supposed to last them, but which was already nearly empty and anyway was cold.

  The cafetiere and two mugs stood on a tray on the floor. On the low coffee table lay the notebook, the big sheet of paper with Catherine's plan for her film and the crumpled Safeway's receipt.

  Euan Ross had brought them in the night before. He'd come straight from the library where he'd taken copies. I know her writing better than you do. Something might suddenly make sense to me. The paper and notebook had been in a clear plastic A4 envelope, which he'd held away from his body, gingerly, like a bomb. He'd refused to hand it over to anyone else in the police station.

  When Taylor picked up the receipt Perez wanted to take it from him. The Englishman's hands were so big that Perez was afraid he might damage it and already the print from the till was faint. Taylor looked at the note in Catherine's writing. Catriona Bruce. Desire or hate? Then he turned it over.

  'It's dated January 4th and timed ten fifty-seven,' Perez said, trying to keep his voice calm, hoping Taylor would replace the scrap of paper. 'The purchases are listed: oatcakes, milk, tea, biscuits, economy pork sausages, a steak pie for one, two tins of peas, two tins of beans, a white sliced loaf, a ginger cake and a bottle of Famous Grouse. I've been to Magnus's house. . : Not for the first time. He'd been there the day after the old man's arrest, carried out the raven in its creaky old cage and taken it to the woman in Dunrossness to care for.

  He hadn't told his colleagues about that. They thought him daft enough as it was. But he couldn't just leave it there to starve and he couldn't hit it on the head either. He returned his attention to the receipt. 'There were two sausages of the same brand in his fridge along with the pie, one tin of beans is in his pantry, the other, empty, is in his rubbish bin-'

  'OK,' Taylor interrupted. 'So the receipt belonged to Magnus: Finally he replaced the paper on the table. Perez felt himself relax.

  He continued, 'The date, of course, is most significant. January 4th. The day before Catherine's body was found.

  The day they met up on the bus. Catherine scribbled a note on the receipt when she was in Magnus's house.

  Something she wanted to remember. We'll come back to that. She took it with her, must have done because Euan found it in her room. That means she must have been alive when she left Hillhead:

  'It doesn't mean Magnus didn't kill her,' Taylor said. 'He could have followed her to the Ross house. Or arranged to meet her outside. We always thought it most likely she was killed where she was found. Almost certain, the pathologist said:

  'Aye,' Perez said. 'Maybe. But why would he follow her? Why kill her?'

  'Because he'd talked to her about Catriona Bruce. He must be a lonely man. Living all on his own in that house since his mother died. Suddenly he had company, someone sympathetic, wanting him to talk, listening to him.

  Perhaps she had her own reasons for encouraging him to speak. She wanted his stories for her film. Perhaps she was just a nice kid who felt sorry for him. And the temptation was too much for him. perhaps he'd had a whisky or two and that loosened his tongue. Whatever:

  'I can see that,' Perez said. 'I can even see him killing her afterwards to keep the whole thing quiet.

  But I can't see him going into the Ross house, searching her room and finding the disk, finding the script and wiping all trace of it from the PC. I don't get that:

  They sat looking at each other for a moment in silence. Taylor stretched, shuffled in his chair. He'd told Perez he had a bad back, disc trouble, that was why he couldn't sit still, but Perez wasn't convinced. It was the man's mind that didn't know how to rest, not his body.

  'So what do we do about it?' Taylor said. 'Time's running out for me. I've promised I'll be back at the end of the week. Any longer than that and they'll start talking about a disciplinary:

  'I'm going to take another trip to the Anderson,' Perez said. 'Check she didn't hand the film in early, give it to a friend to look at. If the film is safe we have to let the whole thing go. Like you said, the note on the back of the receipt incriminates Magnus. It shows he talked to her about Catriona. Euan says there's no other way she could have known about the girl:

  'Taylor stood up, lifting the plan with both hands on his way. He carried it to the window, where the light was better. 'This is crazy,' he said. 'I mean, submit this as evidence and they'll think she was psychotic. What does it mean? Some sort of secret code? It's like that writing the Egyptians used. Hieroglyphs:

  'Euan thinks it was a way of planning the laying out the scenes in the right order!

  'Can you make anything of it?'

  'They think she was using the Robert Frost poem 'Fire and Ice' as a framework for the film!

  'They?' Taylor frowned.

  'Mrs Hunter was with Euan when he went through it!

  'For Christ's sake! She found both bodies! If the case was more open she'd be a fucking suspect: He prowled away from the window. Perez knew he was right to be disturbed, but couldn't see Fran killing anyone. He thought of her sometimes, late at night, when the wind blew rain against his window. He imagined her curled up by the fire, Cassie on her knee, reading stories.

  .

  Perez got to his feet and went to the bookshelf. There was a collection of verse he'd had since school.

  'It was stolen, still had the Anderson High stamp inside. He hadn't meant to steal it, he just hadn't got round to taking it back when he left. It had been packed into boxes with all his other books when he left home. Would it get packed again and sit on a shelf in Skerry, in the room with the big window looking south over Fair Isle?

  He looked at the index and found 'Fire and Ice', handed it to Taylor. 'Well, what do you think?'

  Taylor was unusually still for several minutes. He stood by the window, hunched over the book, ferocious in his concentration on the poem. At last he straightened. 'I don't know which is most destructive,' he said. 'But ice is worse!

  'What do you mean?'

  'I can understand violence coming out of fire. lack of control. I'm not saying I condone it. But it makes sense to me.

  Someone suddenly losing their temper. That blind rage. But violence which is cold and calculating, planned in advance. Icy. That must be worse, mustn't it?'

  Perez was going to say that the result for the victim would be much the same, but Taylor was still gripped in some thought or memory, and he realized he'd be wasting his words.

  When Perez got to the high school, the bell had just gone for afternoon lessons. He stood at the main entrance until the crowds had cleared and the corridors were empty. At the office he asked if Mr Scott was teaching. He didn't have to identify himself. The secretary had worked there since he was a boy. She looked at him over the glasses with blue plastic rims which she'd always worn, then checked a timetable pinned to the wall. 'No. Free period. You should find him in the staff room! She'd never been friendly.

  Scott was sitting at a desk with his back to the room marking exercise books. When Perez had knocked at the door a woman had shouted angrily, 'Yes, what is it?' She'd expected a child to be standing there and seeing Perez she was embarrassed. She said something about t
alking to the head and left Perez and Scott alone. Scott put down his red pen and half stood.

  'Inspector,' he said. 'What can I do for you?' He seemed more at ease than when Perez had last been in the school. Perhaps he'd had time to get over his grief at Catherine's death or perhaps he thought Magnus's arrest meant that there would be no more awkward questions about his relationship with the girl.

  'Just a few loose ends!

  'Of course. 'Tea?'

  Perez nodded and sat on one of the low orange chairs. Again, he had the sensation of being an impostor. He shouldn't be here. He should be waiting outside, a piece of late work in his hand.

  'It's about Catherine's film!

  'Last term's project. I'd set the group a piece of documentary writing. They had to capture the spirit of contemporary Shetland. She asked if she could make a film instead. She said she would produce the script to go with it, so I agreed!

  'Last term's project. She handed it in before Christmas, then, did she?'

  Scott handed Jimmy a mug of tea. It looked very pale. Perez knew before trying that it would have no taste.

  'Not exactly!

  Perez thought he had preferred the English teacher when he was nervous. This new pompous confidence was more irritating. He waited and eventually Scott continued.

  'She asked for an extension. Usually she was good about meeting deadlines and she'd obviously been enthusiastic about the film, so I was surprised:

  'Did she make the request before your romantic encounter or afterwards?'

  Scott looked suddenly furious, which was what Perez had intended, but the teacher kept control. When he spoke his voice made it clear he thought Perez's comment unworthy of a response.

  'It was just before she came to my flat. I'd already agreed to give her more time. There was no possibility that she was putting pressure on me to fall in with her request!

  'What reason did she give for needing an extension?'

  'She wanted to include a piece about Up Helly Aa.

  'To outsiders the Viking fire festival is emblematic. I could see that it would be an interesting addition to the film. I did insist though that she let me have a synopsis before the end of term. There was already some petty jealousy around Catherine. I didn't want more accusations of favouritism!

  'And did she give you the synopsis?'

  'Not in person, no. I've already explained that I didn't see her during the last few days of term. She must have come into the staff room when it was empty, or given it to another member of staff. I found it in my pigeon hole in here:

  'Could I see it please?'

  He thought for a moment the teacher would refuse, but Scott only sighed deeply at the interruption, and asked Perez to follow him to the English department. His classroom was in the old part of the building. It seemed colder in there despite the pale sunshine coming through the dusty skylight. Perez followed him downstairs and into an empty room. Scott opened a cupboard and pulled out a thick box file. 'I've been collecting together all Catherine's work. I thought Euan might like to have it! He set the file on a table at the front of the room and looked at it for a moment before opening it.

  For some reason Perez had been expecting the synopsis to be in the same cramped handwriting as the editing plan, but it had been typed on a computer. There was the same title, Fire and Ice, in bold at the top. He read it slowly, aware that Scott was watching him.

  This film uses the stereotypical images of Shetland landscape and history and subverts them to comment on contemporary life on the islands. There is no narrative line; rather the pictures and real conversations are cut to allow the viewer to come to his or her own conclusion about the values which shape this unique community. The story is told by real Shetlanders, native and incomers, in their own words. My voice-over sets the scene and. the tone. It makes no moral judgement.

  'Is this all there is?' Perez said. 'Not much of a synopsis is it? I mean there's not much detail.'

  'Quite,' Scott said. 'A point I intended to make to Catherine when I saw her. Unfortunately I didn't have 'that opportunity.'

  Walking out of the main gate, Perez caught a glimpse of Jonathan Gale, the lad who'd given Catherine and Sally a lift on New Year's Eve. He increased his pace and caught him up.

  'Hi. How are things?'

  The boy shrugged. 'I'll be glad to leave. University next year. I've got a place at Bristol. I can't wait.'

  'You're bound to be upset about Catherine. Losing someone you cared about.'

  'I don't know why. She just set out to make a fool of me.'

  Perez thought suddenly he knew what Jonathan meant. 'New Year's Eve. Was Catherine with Robert Isbister?'

  He thought she'd been flaunting herself with Robert to make a point.

  Jonathan gave a bitter laugh. 'No. It was nothing like that. Robert was all over Sally in the car, not Catherine. It was horrible actually. I didn't know where to look.'

  So then Perez wondered if it had been Robert who'd been making the point. Some attempt to make Catherine jealous perhaps? Surely he hadn't been so obsessed by the girl that he'd been driven to kill her.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Cassie wanted to spend January 25th with her father. He always celebrated Up Helly Aa on the same day as the festival in Lerwick. There was a big bonfire on the beach then everyone went back to the Haa. It wasn't like the big show for the tourists in Lerwick. It was a community gathering. Fran rejected the plan out of hand. Up Helly Aa at Duncan's place was a piss-up. The party to end all parties. How could Duncan take responsibility for a child, especially without Celia to keep him on the straight and narrow?

  It was Sunday afternoon and Duncan had taken Cassie to Unst to visit an elderly uncle. Now they stood on Fran's doorstep arguing but trying to keep their voices civilized because Cassie was inside watching television.

  'Come on: he said. 'She'll love it. It'll take her mind off everything that's been going on here.'

  'You must be joking.' Fran had a nightmare vision of Duncan's Up Helly Aa from a small child's perspective.

  She imagined Cassie abandoned on the beach looking up at the towering strangers around her while Duncan was playing with his mates. The flames would throw odd shadows on to their faces. Cassie already dreamt enough about monsters. 'She'd be terrified. And you'd be too drunk to look after her properly.'

  His face paled and he blinked violently as if he'd been slapped. She stepped away, expecting an angry outburst, but when he spoke it was almost in a whisper. 'Do you really think that badly of me?'

  Then he turned and walked away without a word, not even calling in to Cassie to say goodbye. Fran watched him go with a stab of guilt. Perhaps she'd misjudged him. Should she call him back and tell him Cassie could go with him if he promised to take care of her? But then he'd always found ways to manipulate her. Perhaps guilt was just the response he'd been working for.

  He must already have promised Cassie she'd be spending Up Helly Aa with him, because back in the house that was all she could talk about. He'd have talked it up. He had a knack of conjuring magic with his words. When Fran made it clear the trip wasn't going to happen Cassie had a major tantrum. She threw herself on to her bed, sobbing, gasping for breath, scaring Fran into thinking she was having some sort of seizure. There were words too, tangled, pushed out hysterically between the sobs. [I’ll never be able to go to school again. Everyone else is going to Up Helly Aa. We painted the galley. Jamie's uncle is in the Guizer Jarl's squad. What shall I tell them? What will they think?

  The hair around her face was matted with tears. Fran stroked it from her cheeks and her forehead. 'We'll go into Lerwick,' she said. 'We'll look at the procession and see the boat being burned. That's the real Up Helly Aa. More exciting than a bonfire on the beach at the Haa!

  The crying stopped abruptly. There were a couple of dramatic shudders. Fran found herself wondering if a skill to manipulate was carried in the genes, transferred of course through the paternal line.

  It seemed Euan Ross
had been thinking about Up Helly Aa too. The next day Fran called in on him after she had dropped Cassie at school. He made her coffee and took her into the living room with its huge pointed window looking over the bay.

  'According to the police Catherine hadn't finished her film. She'd asked for an extension so she could include the fire festival. It would fit with the theme, wouldn't it?'

  Fran saw that he had thought of nothing else since he'd found the notebook and the storyboard. Ideas about his daughter's death were fizzing in his brain, stopping him sleeping or eating, driving him slowly crazy. He'd stuck the plan on the kitchen wall and while he was making the coffee he couldn't take his eyes off it. She was about to ask if he'd seen a doctor, but he started talking again.

  'I knew Catherine had been to the library to research the history of Up Helly Aa. She was very scathing about it.

  All men, of course, in the squads, which must have seemed impossible today to an independent young woman. The festival started off, it seems, as some sort of game. In the eighteenth century they rolled burning barrels of tar through the streets of Lerwick to celebrate midwinter. It sounds remarkably dangerous. Catherine would have been there tomorrow. We discussed it, though I didn't realize it had anything to do with her film.

  She would have been more interested, I suspect, in the ridiculous incidents surrounding the event than in the spectacle itself: He seemed caught up again in his own thoughts, then turned from the window to look at Fran. 'I'll probably go into Lerwick tomorrow night. I told Catherine I'd be there. It was one of the last conversations we had.

  It must sound foolish but I feel as if I made some sort of commitment. It wouldn't have mattered to her either way, but I said that I'd be there so I think I should!

  'You're welcome to come with us. I've promised Cassie I'll take her. The other kids at school are so excited about it she'd feel left out if she wasn't there!

 

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