Taylor took a swig from a can of c.o.ke. Perez thought he must be exhausted, running on caffeine and will power. 'It seems Booth hadn't done much through her in the last few years most of his time was spent running his own business but Rita said he liked to keep his hand in by doing bits of theatre if it was offered. They kept in touch, anyway. It sounds as if they'd become good mates.'

'Was she representing him when he took on the work with The Motley Crew fifteen years ago?'

'Yeah, she was just starting up then. She'd seen him in an amateur play and thought he was good, offered to take him on.'

Perez remembered the performance in the Herring House, the tears. Oh, he was good, he thought.

'How did the work on the boat come about?'

'She'd been in college with the guy who dreamed up the idea of the theatre in the boat and he asked her to find him a couple of actors. It was Booth's first professional work. That's why she remembers it.'

'I don't suppose he talked to her about it afterwards? Or that she remembers what he said?'

'No detail. He called in to see her when he got back. She said he'd enjoyed the acting, travelling round the coast, but he seemed a bit low. She'd expected a blow-by-blow account of the season but he didn't want to talk about it much. She put that down to the recent separation from his wife and daughter. But if Bella sent him away with a flea in his ear, perhaps that explains it.'

'Did he tell her that he was planning to come back to Shetland?'

'He went over to Liverpool a few weeks ago. It was about the time that his daughter got in touch with him. Perhaps he was curious to see the girl before he made a commitment to meet her. I can imagine him hanging around the school, waiting to see what she was like.'

What would he have done if he hadn't liked the look of her? Perez wondered. Made some excuse? Run away again?

Taylor was still sketching out the possible scenario. 'He went to see Ms Murphy while he was in Merseyside. We'll probably never know if that's why he was there, but anyway, they met for lunch in a bar. Rita said Booth was really elated. It sounds as if they had a lot to drink. He told her then that he was taking on a bit of work in Shetland. "Don't worry, darling. You'll get your ten per cent. But this is a bit of private enterprise."'

'Did he say what sort of work it was?'

'"Promotional street theatre".' Perez could hear the quotation marks in Taylor's voice, thought that might describe the pantomime at the cruise ship and in Lerwick. He wasn't sure it covered the drama at the Herring House though.

'Rita thought it was weird that he'd consider doing work like that. She said usually he was a bit picky. He liked real theatre, not the arty stuff. She thought it would be some sort of conceptual theatre whatever that is because he said it was linked to an art gallery. When I told her what was actually involved she said she was surprised he hadn't just left and come home. It wasn't acting at all. A kid straight out of school could put on a costume and hand out a few flyers. And Booth could be very arsy when it came to work.'

'So she thought he'd been hired to do the work by the gallery?'

'That was the impression he gave at first. Later he said what a great opportunity it was a chance to get close to a real celebrity. "This could be my big chance, darling. The time to hit the jackpot. My little bit of luck. And if I hadn't been watching the telly the other night, I'd never have known."' He went all mysterious on her after that. She didn't really take any notice. He was always talking about hitting the big time. All actors do.'

Perez sat for a moment in silence, wondering how this information fitted in with his ideas about the case.

'Do you have any idea which television programme he was talking about?'

'Wouldn't it have been that doc.u.mentary about Roddy Sinclair?'

Perez didn't watch much television, but the uncertain theories in his head about how Booth had died suddenly shifted and came into focus.

'What doc.u.mentary would that be?'

'It was one of a series. Sort of a fly-on-the-wall look at contemporary artists. The cameras followed Roddy round for a week.'

'I think I read about it in the Shetland Times,' Perez said. 'The BBC came here to film him during the music festival last year.' Then he remembered that Kenny had talked about it and been involved in it too.

'Some of it was set in Glasgow. Him playing at a folk club, meeting up with his friends, talking about his music but there were a couple of scenes in London and quite a long piece filmed in Shetland. The Herring House featured, I think, and there was an interview with Bella. I remember one part where they followed Roddy into the Biddista shop there was a bit of banter with the customers and another of him playing music in the school where he used to go.'

'The high school?'

'Nah, these were little kids. It must have been the local primary.'

'In Lerwick?

'Out in the wilds somewhere, I thought.'

'Can we track down a copy of the film?' Perez asked.

'If you think it's important.'

Perez didn't answer, but he was thinking it would confirm to him who'd killed three people. Proving it, though, would be quite a different matter.

Perez arrived at Middleton School just as the children were leaving. He'd asked Taylor if he'd like to come too, thought Taylor could do with a break from the incident room, some fresh air, cold turkey from the caffeine. And if Perez did the driving he might even catch some sleep in the car. But the conversation with Booth's agent seemed to have had a strange effect on Taylor. He sat at his desk, frowning, oblivious to the activity around him. He was quite still. The restlessness and fidgeting seemed finally under control. He didn't even ask why Perez wanted to go to Middleton. He seemed preoccupied with concerns of his own.

'Are you OK?'

Taylor turned then, flashed a grin, which immediately disappeared.

'Yeah, fine. Things on my mind. You know. Nothing to do with this case. Work-related, stuff happening back in Inverness.'

Perez didn't think he could push it. They'd reestablished a delicate balance in their friendship. He wanted to keep things that way.

It was cla.s.sic Shetland weather, breezy with flashes of bright sunshine, and as Perez got out of his car a group of children ran out of the school into the wind, arms outstretched, yelling and laughing. He envied their energy. He waited until the playground was empty before he went inside. Dawn Williamson was in the school library, sitting on one of the small chairs in front of a computer. He stood for a moment watching her, but her body blocked his view of the machine so he couldn't see what was on the screen.

'Don't you have a PC at home?' Everyone did now. Most Shetlanders shopped online. One time, when you went south, people gave you a list of goodies un.o.btainable in the islands to bring back. Now people bought their CDs, books, clothes and even household items on the internet.

She turned, startled by his voice, then smiled, rea.s.sured, when she recognized him.

'The hard drive's crashed,' she said. 'I've only had the b.l.o.o.d.y thing for six months. It's a real nuisance. Martin used it for work. Even Aggie had become a convert she's really interested in family history and there's loads you can do online. I've just sent it back to the manufacturer. It was still under warranty and I couldn't get anyone to come out to fix it.'

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I've a few more questions.'

She stood up and leaned against the desk so she was facing him. Something about his expression seemed to panic her.

'Is anything wrong, inspector? What's happened now?'

'There's nothing new,' he said. 'Just questions.'

'We're all so jumpy. I heard you'd found another body down the Pit. It's horrible, unbelievable. What do I tell Alice? I hoped she'd be protected, growing up here.'

Perez thought of the bullying he'd endured when he moved from the small Fair Isle school to the hostel in Lerwick. Kids were cruel wherever they lived. He didn't think people were so different because they lived in Shetland. Not the children or the grown-ups.

'It's about the television doc.u.mentary on Roddy Sinclair. You remember it?'

'I'll never forget it,' she said. 'You won't believe the excitement it caused, the BBC coming to the school. They were here for three days and in the end the scene only lasted for about five minutes. The kids loved it.'

'Roddy was never a pupil here, though, was he? He lived in Lerwick when he was in the primary.'

'Dramatic licence, I suppose. Middleton's a bit more scenic. And I think he did come here for a few weeks when he was very young. It was when his father was first diagnosed and had to go away to Aberdeen to hospital. His mother went too and Roddy stayed with Bella. He has come in to do some music with the kids since he started recording. They loved him, of course. There was enough of the rascal in him to appeal to them.'

'How long did the BBC spend filming in Biddista?'

'Quite a lot longer. More than a week. In the end the doc.u.mentary was as much about the community as about Roddy himself.'

'What did the Biddista folk make of that?'

'Oh, they all pretended to be very cool, but they made sure they were out and about whenever the BBC were filming.'

'Everyone?'

'Well, Aggie's always been a bit shy. She got Martin to stand in for her the day they did the bit in the shop. We persuaded her to pretend to be one of the customers, so the whole community was captured.'

'Was w.i.l.l.y still living in Biddista then?'

'He was. He was there on the film. Although it's not long been shown on the television, they shot it last spring.'

'So it was before Peter Wilding moved into his house?'

'Yes, it was. w.i.l.l.y was managing quite well on his own then.' She looked directly at Perez. 'What is all this about? You can't think one of us is a killer.'

He didn't answer. He stretched and felt the tension in the muscles in his back. I need a bath, he thought. A long hot soak. Real food. Why do I think I enjoy doing this job?

'I'm really sorry to have troubled you at work again,' he said.

'Is that it?' she demanded. He saw that her nerves were tattered and she was having trouble holding things together. 'No explanation for all these questions?'

'Sorry,' he said again.

He could see she wanted him to leave, but he hesitated, wondering if he could risk one last question. The question that had been in his head since he'd come to the school. 'Have you any idea who the murderer is, Dawn?'

She stared at him. 'I can't believe you asked me that.' He saw he'd pushed her too far, but couldn't help continuing.

'You might have heard something. People talking. I know you weren't involved. You weren't living in Shetland when all this started. But someone in Biddista knows.'

'I can't talk about this now. I want to get home, spend some time with my daughter. If you have more questions come to Biddista later when she's asleep. I'd rather have Martin there anyway. I know it's pathetic, but I can't do this on my own.'

Perez thought how Dawn had been when he'd first met her. A strong and confident woman. This is what violence does, he thought. It makes victims of us all.

Chapter Forty-two.

Perhaps it would be better talking to Dawn and Martin together, Perez thought. He drove out of Middleton a little way on the Lerwick road. He didn't still want to be parked in the playground when Dawn came out of the school. She was jumpy enough and he didn't want to scare her, didn't want her thinking he was watching her. He pulled in to the side of the road, next to a few scrubby trees someone must have planted years ago as a windbreak, and made plans for the rest of the evening.

He thought he should call in on Kenny while he was waiting for Dawn to get Alice to bed. He could take the swab for the DNA. But didn't think he could face talking to the crofter just yet. It came to him again that he needed hot food and a bath. And that would give him time on his own to order his thoughts. He was groping towards a solution but had no evidence. He still couldn't see any way of obtaining sufficient proof to allow an arrest.

He drove back to Lerwick and parked in the lane outside his house. Inside he opened the windows, so the breeze blew the curtains and rattled the doors. A neighbour had the radio on and the sound blew in too. Perez recognized a track from the latest Roddy Sinclair alb.u.m. He scrambled eggs and made toast and coffee and ate the food with the plate on his lap, perched in the window seat, watching the Bressay ferry make its way across to the island. Then he ran a deep hot bath and lay in the water, almost dozing, letting various scenarios around the case play in his head. He wasn't usually one for conspiracy theories, but this time he allowed himself to consider the most preposterous ideas. Investigation was all about 'What if . . .' He thought Wilding must play the same games while he was writing his stories.

Before leaving the house he phoned Taylor, using his mobile number because he thought surely by now the man would have left the police station. The Englishman was staying in exactly the same room in the same hotel as in the previous investigation. Perez had picked him up from there once and it had been as tidy as a cubicle in a military barracks. It was hard to believe the bed had been slept in; his clothes were neatly folded. On the dressing table a pen, a brush and a notepad had stood in a precise line. Perez wondered whether Taylor ever relaxed.

Certainly he wasn't relaxing now, because it was clear from the background sounds that he was still at work.

'Yes?'

'Did your friends in West Yorkshire mention finding any photographs in Booth's house?' Perez had returned to his seat at the window. 'Someone was obviously taking pictures that summer because we have the group photo with Bella and the men. I wondered if there were any others.'

There was a silence. Taylor was trying to follow his reasoning. 'Is there something you're not telling me, Jimmy?'

Now Perez hesitated. 'I need to talk to the Williamsons again,' he said. 'Then I'm going in to get that swab from Kenny. Do you want to meet me in Biddista later? Or maybe you'd rather get to your bed?'

'No point,' Taylor said. 'I thought winter was bad enough here, but I'd survive that better than these crazy light nights. I know I've not been the easiest person to work with on this case. Put it down to being halfway to the Arctic Circle and getting no sleep. If I can track down any photos, I'll get West Yorkshire to scan them and send them as attachments. I'll print them out and bring them with me.'

'Have you managed to track down a recording of the TV doc.u.mentary?'

'Apparently Sandy's mother has one. She taped it because of the Shetland scenes. He's gone to Whalsay to fetch it, hopes to get the last ferry back.'

'Good.'

There was a brief hesitation. 'Jimmy?'

'Yes?'

'Doesn't matter. I wanted to ask your advice about something. But it'll keep. You need to get off.'

Perez replaced the phone and then realized they hadn't decided where they should meet. It didn't matter. Biddista wasn't such a big place. Taylor would find him, and anyway he wasn't sure yet where he would be.

When he arrived at the Williamson house, the child was in bed, but all the adults were there. Even Aggie had been brought in from next door. Perez hadn't been expecting that and wasn't sure how it would work, but didn't think he could send her back to her house. He didn't want to start off the interview with a confrontation. Besides, he needed to talk to her. They sat in a row on the sofa. Martin opened the door to him, then returned to his place.

'What is all this about, Jimmy? I didn't have you down as the sort to go in for bully-boy tactics. You shouldn't have gone to the school and hara.s.sed my wife in that way.'

'I have to ask questions. That's what I do for a living.'

'You accused Dawn of knowing who the murderer is.'

'No,' Perez said. He hated being thought a bully. There was a pause while he considered if he could have played it any differently, then decided they had to know this was serious. 'I asked her if she had any idea. That's rather different. If I believed she knew what had been going on here she'd be under arrest for perverting the course of justice.' He paused. 'I wanted Dawn's opinion because she's relatively new to the place, more objective. Nothing more than that.'

Dawn had been sitting quietly throughout the exchange. Now she spoke. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I overreacted in the school. But this is horrible. The violence going on just outside the door. It was close enough to home already. Now it seems personal, as if it's come in and become a part of our lives. Is there someone out there who hates everyone who lives in Biddista?'

'No,' Perez said. 'I don't think it's that.'

They sat for a moment in silence.