Part 20 (1/2)

Wilding frowned. 'The name sounded familiar for a moment. But I had an agent called Booth once. Perhaps that was it. I had to sack him. His name was Norman. Probably no relation to the victim.'

'This is a serious matter.' There was an edge to Perez's voice which surprised Taylor. 'Are you sure you've never heard of the man?'

'No,' Wilding replied. 'I don't think I have. Sorry. I didn't mean to sound flippant.'

Taylor thought he didn't sound sorry either.

'How did you come to live in Biddista?'

'I think I explained before that I've always admired Bella's work. I wrote to her years ago to tell her how much pleasure I took from her paintings and we began a correspondence.' He paused, saw that more explanation was required. 'I've recently separated. My partner left me. It was unexpected, to me at least. I'd thought we were happy. But she'd been seeing someone else. I had a sort of breakdown. I even spent a couple of weeks in hospital.' He stopped and looked over to where they were sitting. 'Perhaps you know all this already. I suppose you check the backgrounds of people close to a murder case.'

Not well enough, Taylor thought. Obviously. He felt the old anger at a job not properly done.

Wilding continued. 'I suppose I behaved rather badly. I followed my partner. Sent her flowers and presents. Tried to persuade her to change her mind. Her lawyer called it hara.s.sment, though I didn't see it that way. I was never charged with an offence but she took out an injunction to stop me bothering her. I thought it would be safest to move away.' He smiled briefly at Taylor, who seemed the most sympathetic of his listeners. 'Shetland was about as far away as I could get.'

He seemed strangely unemotional now, talking about the obsession, the injunction. He could have been describing someone else.

'What was your girlfriend's name?' Taylor tried to keep his voice even, but he allowed himself a tentative excitement; this held the possibility of some sort of motive.

'Helen. Helen Adams.'

'And her new partner?'

'Jason Doyle. A rather vulgar name, I thought. It was a surprise when I found out he was a lawyer. I'm sorry to disappoint you, inspector. He wasn't called Booth, and he's a creature of the inner city. I don't suppose he'd ever choose to visit Shetland. I haven't killed anyone.'

'What are your plans for the future, Mr Wilding?' Perez again, crisp and clipped. He was being sharp enough now, Taylor thought. Perhaps it was because he was dealing with an incomer and he wasn't so involved.

The writer answered immediately. 'I'd like to settle here. Make a fresh start. My partner and I never had children. There's nothing to take me back.'

'How did you come to rent w.i.l.l.y's house?' Perez dropped in the question as an afterthought.

'Didn't you know? Bella owns it. The council sold off all these houses some years ago. w.i.l.l.y was given the option to buy, but he'd already retired and couldn't raise the mortgage. She gave him the money. Security and a rent-free home for the old man, and an investment for her. He doesn't have any family. Recently he moved into sheltered housing. When I emailed her that I was looking for a short-term let in Shetland, she offered it to me.'

Taylor wondered why that fact hadn't come to light before. Perez was supposed to know these people, everything about them. But then, could it have any importance? Another small domestic detail. Nothing likely to lead to murder. It was time to move on.

Perez, though, seemed reluctant to leave the writer.

'Did you go out yesterday evening?'

'Not on to the hill. Only for a walk on the beach.' Wilding looked directly at the Shetlander. 'If I could help you, inspector, I would. I liked Roddy. He was young and irresponsible, but he didn't take himself too seriously. He made people laugh. More than that, Bella doted on him and I'd do anything in the world to make her happy.' His face softened. Taylor thought he was besotted. That obsessive streak again.

He moved over to take a seat in front of the computer, to show them that he wanted to go back to work.

Outside on the road, Perez said abruptly that he needed to get back to Lerwick. He had an appointment he couldn't cancel. If Taylor wanted to continue questioning the community, he'd arrange for a car to pick him up later. Of course Sandy had already spoken to everyone. The implication was that Taylor was unlikely to come up with anything new and it was all rather a waste of time.

Taylor forgot that earlier he too had thought there was little to be gained by talking to the Biddista residents. He saw this as a chance to beat Perez on his home ground. He sensed an edge in the compet.i.tion. 'I'll just pay a visit to Miss Sinclair,' he said. 'I know you talked to her yesterday, but she should be calmer now. She might remember more.'

It was late afternoon on a Sat.u.r.day. In Inverness Taylor hated the weekends when he wasn't working. He didn't know what to do with himself. He hadn't made friends there; somehow he'd always known he wouldn't be staying and that had made him keep people at arm's length. Suddenly the exile in the highlands seemed pointless. What was the point of spiting his father, even though he was no longer alive?

He was so wrapped up in these thoughts that he arrived at the Manse without realizing. He rang the bell and heard the tinny ring inside. The door was opened by a woman he didn't recognize. She was wiry, smartly dressed. His first thought was that she might be a housekeeper or cleaner, but that was dispelled by the calm air of authority when she spoke.

'If you're a reporter, Miss Sinclair isn't speaking to anyone.'

Taylor thought the woman could be a member of Perez's team, an officer he hadn't yet met. He introduced himself and she invited him in. As if she were doing him a favour, not that he was there by right.

'We haven't met,' she said. 'I'm Edith Thomson. I thought Bella needed someone with her.'

'Of course. A time like this she'll need her friends.'

Edith looked at him thoughtfully. 'We're not exactly friends. But I couldn't leave her alone at a time like this. I was imagining how I'd feel if I'd lost one of my children.'

'He was her nephew,' Taylor said. 'Not quite the same.'

'It felt the same to her.'

'Your husband found the body. Both bodies.'

She looked at him. Through him. Decided to ignore the challenge under the words. 'I know. It'll haunt him for ever. He's already having nightmares.'

'Can I speak to Miss Sinclair?'

She shrugged. 'You can try. She's been drinking.'

They went into a room Taylor hadn't seen before. A rather grand living room at the front of the house with a view over the water. The windows were long, with folded shutters in the French style. The furniture was old and a little shabby. Bella was half sitting, half lying on a chaise-longue. There was a small table with a gla.s.s and a bottle beside her. She was drinking whisky.

When she saw Taylor, she half stood, an attempt at the old charm, then fell back on to the seat.

'Inspector.'

'Would you like me to leave you alone?' Edith asked.

'No, stay.' Bella made an extravagant gesture with her arm. 'Please stay. Edith and I have known each other for years, haven't we? Do you remember when you first came to Biddista? Weren't we all pals, the six of us?'

'Six of you?' Taylor was still finding it hard to come to grips with the relations.h.i.+ps within the place. I should write it all down, he thought. Make a chart. The sort of list Wilding had on his desk for all his characters.

'My brother Alec, Aggie Watt, Kenny and Edith and Lawrence and me.'

Taylor turned to Edith. 'Who's Lawrence?' The name was familiar but he couldn't place it.

'He's Kenny's brother. He left Shetland years ago. We've lost touch.'

'Of course. I should have remembered. Your husband thought he might be the man who was hanged. Why did he leave Shetland? Some sort of family feud?'

'No,' she said awkwardly. 'Nothing like that.'

'They think it was my fault that Lawrence left.' It was Bella, talking too loudly, as if she were giving a performance. 'They think he was madly in love with me and I spurned him and he was so heartbroken that he ran away.'