by Ann Cleeves
That was when she realized Cassie was missing.
It took her a few moments to believe it. She looked around her, expecting Cassie to appear with the same ease with which the Duncan lookalike had vanished. Then she forced herself to think clearly and logically. Cassie had dropped her hand when they'd bumped into Jan and Shona. Only babies held hands with their mothers. Fran had understood that, hadn't insisted. Now she peered frantically through the crowd trying to catch a glimpse of Cassie's blue hat. Nothing. She tried to remember if she'd seen Cassie once Jan and Shona had moved on. Her attention had been distracted by the image of Duncan. She'd assumed her daughter had been by her side.
She told herself Cassie must have followed Shona. They were probably all together making their way to the field to watch the burning galley. Jan would keep an eye on her. This panic was ridiculous. It was just as well Margaret Henry couldn't see her now. She pulled her mobile phone from her pocket then looked at it helplessly. She didn't know Jan's number. The crowd in the street was thinning. A group of lads stood, tins of McEwan's in their hands, shouting a bawdy version of the galley song. She pushed past them following the direction of the procession.
At the park the different squads with their torches circled the galley. There was no other light. The street lamps had been turned off at seven-thirty. It was very cold. There was a smell of smoke and crushed grass. She pushed through the laughing people, the families and the gangs of teenage kids, looking for Jan. Everyone was having a good time. They all wore anoraks, scarves and hats, and were as difficult to tell apart as the guizers in their masks.
In the flickering light they looked shadowy, exactly the same. Occasionally she would convince herself that she could see Cassie in the distance, but when she approached she saw it was a different child. Someone else's daughter.
The moment of burning had arrived. They did this to witches. Strange women who had visions. Someone was counting down from ten. Still searching she thought she saw Celia, a tall straight figure in a long black coat, her head tilted to one side. Of course she'd be there to support her husband. I thought you were a witch. Celia might have seen Cassie. She would at least be a familiar figure, if Cassie was wandering around, afraid and lost, someone else to look out for the girl.
Fran started making her way through the crowd towards the woman. But then the Guizer Jarl held his torch aloft and threw it on to the galley. All the others followed. There was an explosion of light and in the moment before it faded she saw Jan, standing on the edge of the crowd. Fran walked towards her, pushing past the stewards, too close to the fire. She could taste the burning paint and varnish at the back of her throat. Jan was engrossed in conversation with another mother.
'Have you seen Cassie?'
The panic in her voice made them stop immediately and turn towards her.
'I've lost Cassie. Is she with Shona?'
'No,' Jan said. 'I've not seen her since we were together earlier:
The galley collapsed in on itself. The long planks bowed and cracked and were engulfed in flame. All that remained was the dragon's head, held by its rib cage of charred timber, rearing high above the crowd.
Chapter Forty-Two
'Another girl missing:
They were out on the street, walking away from the market cross towards the pier, where it was a bit quieter. On the water the ferry was on its way south to Aberdeen, a moving frame of light. They'd watched the procession like ordinary tourists until the call came through on Jimmy Perez's mobile. It should have been Taylor's last night and they'd had a few beers. Not celebrating. Neither had felt like doing that. But needing to mark the occasion in some way.
Now they could speak without shouting and looked down on the black oily water.
'Another girl whose first name begins with C:
They'd both been thinking it. Perez put it into words.
'Could be a coincidence. She could just have wandered away from her mother. A night like this, how many missing kids do you get reported?' Taylor's Liverpool accent seemed stronger, more edgy. Who's he trying to convince? Perez thought.
He tried to keep his voice even. 'Fran Hunter's hysterical of course. She found both bodies. Hard enough to take. Now this. . : Perez thought he was close to losing it himself. He could feel the fear like liquid in his stomach, imagined it rising in his throat until it was drowning him. It was foolish to think about Fran, put himself in her skin.
He'd only panic like her, then he'd be no good to anyone. He had to hold himself together, think rationally. 'The crowd's clearing a bit now as everyone moves on to the halls and community centres for dancing. If the kid's wandered off and is out on the street, she'll be found in the next hour. I've got people looking. After that we can assume she's been taken. But I don't think we can wait that long. I don't think we can afford to:
'What about the rest of the team? What do they say?'
'They think I'm overreacting and that the mother's panicking over nothing. After all, the murderer is in custody, isn't he? How can he be back on the street, abducting another child?'
'We can be certain now that Mrs Hunter had nothing to do with Catherine's murder,' Taylor said.
'I never thought she was involved:
'Where is she now?'
'With Euan Ross. He's taken her back to her house.
That was where she wanted to be. In case a neighbour from Ravenswick has picked up the child and brings her home. Morag's there too:
'What was Ross doing in Lerwick? I'd hardly think he'd be in the mood for a party: He was looking for the ghost of his daughter, Perez thought. A slim, dark figure bent over a camcorder on a tripod. What would she be filming now, if she was here? And what can that have to do with Cassie's disappearance?
Fire and Ice. We got caught up with the father's obsession with a puzzle. We must have missed something more obvious. 'Fran thought she saw her ex-husband on the street, just before the girl went missing,' he said, leaving Taylor's question hanging, unanswered.
That's where she is then. That explains it. She'd not wander off with a stranger, would she? Not without a fuss.
Maybe you are overreacting lad. You've tried to contact the father?'
'Of course. Landline and mobile. Nothing:
'That doesn't mean he hasn't got her. Maybe there was some mix up with arrangements. A breakdown in communication. . :
'Not according to the mother. Duncan had wanted Cassie at his place for Up Helly Aa. Fran refused. Made it quite clear it wasn't going to happen. There was a bit of a row about it:
'So he took her out of spite?'
Surely, Perez thought, not even Duncan would be that cruel. But he couldn't rule it out as a possibility.
'Do you want me to go out to the kiddie's dad's then?' Taylor was getting impatient. He couldn't understand what Perez was about, standing here, daydreaming.
'No. I know the way and I'll be quicker. You stay here and coordinate the search on the ground: The traffic was heavy coming out of town, nose to tail past the power station, then it cleared suddenly and he could put his foot down. Speeding. probably just on the limit if they checked for drink. He slowed up a bit through Brae, then he was on his way down the hill and he could see the bonfire already lit on the beach and the black figures silhouetted against the flames. If Duncan was out there, he wouldn't answer his phone. That part of the coast was a black hole for mobiles. There was no reception at all.
There seemed to be lights in all the downstairs windows of the house. He was reminded of the old days before Duncan was married, when everyone young and bright wanted to be here for Up Helly Aa, leaving Lerwick to the tourists and the old folk. Perez had been glad enough of an invitation then. He'd brought Sarah with him from Aberdeen, her first visit to Shetland and she'd been impressed. Duncan had flirted with her of course and she'd responded in a polite, friendly way. Flattered but not taken in by him. She had always been a woman of sound judgement. She'd divorced Jimmy Perez, hadn't she? That showed some sense.
&nbs
p; He drove into the walled courtyard and parked the car. Despite all the lights there was no sound from the house.
He could see into the kitchen from the courtyard, the stack of cans and bottles on the table, but the room was empty.
Everyone must be on the beach.
Perez tried to rehearse what he'd say to Duncan if Cassie was here. If Duncan had taken her from a busy street to make a point. To suggest that Fran wasn't a vigilant mother. Or as Taylor had said, just out of spite because Fran hadn't wanted him to have the girl at the Haa. Perez knew it would be important to keep his temper. He was involved with the family, but he couldn't let it show. He might even have to let Cassie stay here. He'd just call Fran and let her know the girl was safe. Leave it up to her to decide what to do next. But even while he was running through the scenarios in his head, he couldn't allow himself to believe that Cassie was really here, safe and well.
That would be tempting providence. He wanted it so much, he couldn't let himself believe it was true.
The first person he saw on the beach was Celia. What was she doing there? The addiction to Duncan must have been too much in the end. She was standing apart from the others, drinking beer straight from the bottle. Her head was tipped back and she emptied the last quarter in one go, then threw the bottle on to the fire. It smashed into pieces on the big smooth pebbles containing the embers. Perez didn't want to get into a discussion about whether she and Duncan were back together. She heard his footsteps on the shingle behind her and turned suddenly. When she saw who it was, she seemed disappointed. Nobody else, amid the drinking and laughing, noticed his presence.
'Where's Duncan?'
'God knows,' she said. 'I've only just arrived.
Perhaps he's hiding from me. He might be in bed with one of the pretty young things he always invites to these dos, but it's a bit early for that even for him. He usually stays dressed long enough to welcome his guests!
'Have you seen Cassie?'
'No. Is she here?' She took another bottle from the crate which stood at her feet, pulled an opener from her coat pocket and flipped off the top. 'Perhaps that's where he is, then, playing happy families. Cocoa and a story before bedtime, a reformed character!
He was surprised at the bitterness in her voice. 'Haven't you seen him?'
'No,' she said. 'I was in town watching Michael in his moment of glory as Guizer Jarl. Robert following him in the squad, counting the years till he's old enough to do it himself. He's wanted it since he was a boy. He used to act it out, parading through the house with a saucepan on his head.' She was talking to herself, the drink making her reflective, sentimental. 'I'm not sure why it means so much to him. Perhaps sometimes you need someone to tell you that you belong.'
'Was Duncan in Lerwick?'
'No,' she said. 'Why would he be? He never goes to Lerwick' for Up Helly Aa. He's above all that. He couldn't bear dancing with the middle-aged housewives in Isleburgh or the high school. He doesn't realize that he's almost middle-aged himself.'
'Cassie's missing: Jimmy said.
But Celia drank more beer and stared bleakly into the fire. She seemed not to have heard him.
Perez walked over to the crowd by the fire but he could see at once that Duncan wasn't among them. A young man in a long grey coat was sitting on an upended beer crate and playing the guitar very badly. The others gathered round pretending to listen, posing. When he asked about Duncan and Cassie they shrugged. He couldn't tell if they were stoned or drunk or they just didn't care.
He went into the house and started searching, frantic now. Someone had tidied up since his last visit. Duncan had a team of women in Brae he called in to clean for him, in return for a handful of notes and his lost little boy's smile. When the guests had arrived they must have gone straight from the kitchen to the beach, because the long drawing room was quiet and ordered, still smelling of wood smoke and beeswax. The fire was low and automatically he took a piece of driftwood from the bucket and threw it on. It must still have been damp because there was a hiss of steam before it caught.
He continued looking, because he didn't know what else to do and he couldn't go back to town with the job half done. He didn't expect to find anything. He went into rooms he'd never seen before, not even on the weekends when he and Duncan had escaped from Anderson High and had the run of the place. Right at the top of the house there was a whole floor which seemed to be unused. It was cold there, unheated. The floor was bare and many rooms were unfurnished, unsettling in the harsh light of the single bulbs, illuminated briefly as he switched on the light for a flash before moving on. Some were completely empty, some piled with junk. Then he heard a sound and he stood still. There were voices in conversation, a little laugh. The noise came from the last door on the landing.
'Duncan!' His voIce was cracked and breathless.
The voices fell silent, so he wondered if he had imagined them, mistaken the breeze which had picked up outside for human whispers. But the door didn't fit properly and light spilled under it. He walked quietly up to it and threw it open. Inside was an attic with a ceiling vaulted like the roof of a cathedral. A long window was covered by a piece of muslin so flimsy that it moved in the draught from the ill-fitting glass.
There was a bed as wide as it was long with carved wooden posts at each corner and heaped with faded quilts and rugs. And in the bed sprawled two young people, a man and a woman, not cold, apparently, although they Were only half dressed and not covered wholly by a quilt. They were sharing a post-coital cigarette. They were very young - sixteen? Seventeen? His entrance had shocked them but they looked out at him with a smug warmth which made him envy them. He gave a wave of apology, then shut the door behind him. He ran down the three flights of stairs and outside.
At the bonfire, the scene had changed. The guests were making their way back to the house, walking along the tideline. At their head strode Duncan. He wore his coat slung over his shoulders, caught with a single button so it fell behind him like a cloak.
Perez rushed up to him, blocking his process. 'Have you seen Cassie?'
'She's with Fran. The witch wouldn't let me have her tonight. Why?'
'She's missing, she got separated from Fran on the street in Lerwick!
Perez knew he should stay and explain in more detail. Duncan was her father and had a right to know. 'But he was aware of time slipping from him. Ignoring Duncan's shouted questions, he left them to their ridiculous ritual and slithered over the shingle to the house and his car. He slammed it into gear and drove too fast back to the town.
Chapter Forty-Three
Sally went out of the community hall to get some air. The door swung shut behind her and the music grew fainter. Above her the sky was flecked with stars. The drink had gone to her head and she bent over, not thinking she was going to be sick exactly but wanting to stop that whirring sensation, the feeling that the earth was shifting and she had to concentrate to keep her balance, otherwise she'd tip over. She wasn't wearing a coat. She'd only be out for a minute and anyway it was roasting inside the hall with the heating full on and all those bodies, everyone dancing.
She hadn't seen her parents all night. Not to speak to at least. She'd caught a glimpse of Alex while she was watching the procession, and she'd wondered what he could be up to because there'd been no sign of her mother. Her parents had believed her story that she'd spend the evening with Fran Hunter and Cassie. When she'd told them, they'd seemed almost relieved at the prospect of a night to themselves.
If they'd been around to watch the burning galley, she hadn't seen them on the playing field. She supposed they'd be home by now. Margaret would be making a nice cup of Cocoa before bed, filling their hot water bottles.
Sally stood up and tilted back her head to look at the sky. It made her dizzy again, then the cold started getting to her and she went back inside.
In the hall it was like the first time she'd got together with Robert. A bit rowdier maybe. Some of the girls from school were there, making fools
of themselves and she could tell they were dead jealous that she was with Robert.
All thoughts of secrecy were over now. In this mood she wanted the world to know. She was feeling good. Not so self-conscious. She'd lost a bit of weight since Catherine had died and that helped. Maybe she could sell the idea to the teenage magazines - The best friend's murder diet.
She knew it wasn't funny but she couldn't help smiling to herself. She went up to Robert. Her friends were all around him, but he wasn't taking any notice of them. Not flirting anyway, even after she'd left the hall. He hadn't seen her come back in and she'd watched him for a moment to check. Lisa was desperate to get his attention, but he just ignored her. He was still wearing part of the costume but had dumped the helmet and the shield somewhere. The dagger was in its sheath on his belt. When they'd danced that slow dance earlier, she'd been aware of it against her thigh. It had made her feel sexy. She'd never felt quite like that before.
She stroked his neck. He must have had a bit to drink too, but you wouldn't have been able to tell. He'd taken the whole Up Helly Aa thing seriously. She liked that about him. He wasn't like the lads at school who saw everything as an opportunity to take the piss. Now, with the music in the background, she felt she was floating above the scene in the hall, looking down at it from a distance. All the dreadful things that happened, with Catherine and the hassle with parents and the stuff that had gone on at school, all that was over.
At last she could believe that anything was possible. The music stopped for the band to have a drink. Robert bent down to talk in her ear.