‘Oh, the boys will be okay. Not in the long term of course, but for now.’

  He phoned Willow to bring her up to date, drove back from the college into town and parked at the police station, then walked along the harbour front to the red-brick Victorian hotel. Vaila was waiting for him in reception, small and neat, inconspicuous. She seemed to have shrunk since he’d seen her last on Westray. It was very late to eat – service for lunch was nearly over – and the restaurant was cold and almost empty. They had a table by the window. She ordered without looking at the menu.

  ‘Soup of the day and then haddock and chips.’

  He’d expected her to choose something less hearty. She must have sensed his surprise because she gave a little smile and, once he’d ordered the same and the waitress had left, she continued. ‘That’s what I always had when Archie and I came in to Orkney mainland for some do or other and spent the night here. It’s beyond me to come up with anything new. My brain won’t function.’

  He nodded to show he understood.

  ‘What’s all this about, Jimmy?’

  ‘Do you know a man called Anthony Johnson?’

  ‘The historian? Archie’s dad knew him better than we did. You know how passionate Magnus was when it came to local history, and Tony stayed in their cottage when he was a student.’

  ‘That’s where Nat Wilkinson lives now?’

  ‘Aye. Magnus took a kind of pleasure in seeing the professor become a bit of a celebrity.’

  ‘It seems that Magnus did much of the work that made Anthony Johnson famous.’

  ‘Oh, he’d have loved to hear that. I think he always considered himself a collaborator. Tony’s assistant.’

  ‘He wouldn’t have been angry that Johnson took the credit for much of his original work?’

  ‘Honestly, I don’t think he would.’ She paused while a young waitress brought the soup. ‘Magnus wasn’t a man with any sort of ego. He was self-taught. He watched Open University lectures on the television in the middle of the night when it first started, but never bothered taking the degree. He wanted the pleasure of knowledge, not any sort of recognition.’

  ‘Would Archie have been angry on his behalf?’

  There was a moment of silence. Vaila was an intelligent woman. Perez thought she’d be working through the implications of the question.

  ‘You knew Archie, Jimmy. You probably knew him better than I did. He never minded having an excuse for his fury. I think he felt most alive when he could lose himself in righteous anger. And he loved his father, admired him more than anyone else in the world. Yes, he’d have been furious to think that Magnus hadn’t been given proper recognition. I don’t think he knew what had happened though. Certainly, he’d not given it any importance. He hadn’t mentioned it to me.’

  ‘It seems that George Riley intended to make all this public, by putting it into the children’s book he was writing. Magnus would have been the hero of the story.’ Perez set down his spoon and looked across at Vaila, but she said nothing and waited for him to continue. ‘They would have met at the pier that morning,’ he said. ‘It’s possible that George explained his suspicions about the stolen research to Archie. You said that he was in a strange mood when he came in. He didn’t mention anything of George’s theory?’

  She shook her head. ‘I was in a rush to get out. Besides, he might not have done, even if they’d had that conversation. Archie and me, we’d reached a point where we weren’t speaking much. Or I wasn’t listening to what he had to say. My mind was clouded with jealousy.’ A pause. ‘It’s a terrible thing. The worst kind of sin.’

  Perez didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t think there was anything he could say to make her feel better. Instead, he continued talking about his friend’s last day:

  ‘Everyone says that Archie’s mood changed that morning. It’s possible that he brooded over the slight to his family. And to the island. He’d discovered that it wasn’t an outsider who made sense of the story stones, but a Westray man. His own father. I think he’d have found the deception unforgivable.’

  Now Vaila did respond. ‘He wasn’t a man who found forgiveness easy.’

  The comment sounded personal, about more than academic plagiarism, but Vaila didn’t expand. Perez wondered if he should probe the matter further to find out if Vaila had behaved in a way that required forgiveness from her husband. He couldn’t quite push the point though, because the woman was so emotionally frail now. He didn’t want to scare her away, back to her room and her sons. Instead, he returned to his earlier point, realizing that this was a form of cowardice.

  ‘You’re quite sure that he didn’t mention any of this to you? You had dinner together that evening. He didn’t tell you what he’d learned?’

  Vaila shook her head. ‘I knew that something was troubling him. He was so preoccupied. But I didn’t ask. I thought it might have to do with Rosalie, and the boys were at the table with us. I didn’t want a row about the woman in front of them.’

  Perez nodded.

  The waitress appeared to take the bowls and bring the fish. She had blue hair and a very short skirt and seemed full of joy and vigour. She stood for a moment chatting about the food, but their mood must have dampened hers, because she wandered back to the kitchen disheartened.

  ‘What will you do now?’ Vaila asked.

  ‘Willow flew into Westray this morning. I’ve spoken to her about this. She’ll talk to the man, see what he has to say for himself. We have no evidence, you see, and Johnson had very little opportunity to have committed the crime. Your parents have provided him with an alibi. He and his wife had supper with them at Hillhead that night. We need to look into that. See if the timings are remotely possible. But I wanted to ask if Archie had mentioned this at all, and to let you know how things are going.’

  She’d been poking at her food, pulling back the batter to pick at the fish. ‘That was kind, Jimmy. You always were a kind man. Too kind maybe for your own good. I’m glad you and Willow are so happy.’ There was a wistful note to her voice.

  He was thinking that she was still young and that she had a chance of happiness too, but he knew from his own experience after losing Fran that it was far too soon for her to consider something like that.

  After the meal, Vaila refused the offer of coffee. ‘I need to check on the boys.’ He could tell that this was an excuse and that she wanted to escape again into her own space, her own memories, her own grief.

  Perez walked back to the station along the icy pavements, but when he arrived there, he couldn’t face going inside. Some of Vaila’s depression had descended on him too. There would be the same end-of-term atmosphere as he’d found in the college. Someone would have brought cake. They’d be opening Secret Santa gifts and talking of family Christmases. Suddenly, he was missing Archie again more powerfully than ever and a wave of sadness washed over him. After Fran’s death, Archie had flown in to Shetland to be with him. They’d sat together in the house by the shore, talking for hours. And later, he’d always been there, at the end of a phone to listen to Perez’s pain. Perez thought he should be providing the same sort of comfort to Archie’s wife, but his position was compromised. He couldn’t just be her friend.

  Instead of heading into the police station, Perez sat in his car until the windscreen had cleared and then drove back towards Finstown and Miles. The man had invited him to return, and George might have shared something of his plans for the Westray book with his lover.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  WILLOW WENT ON HER OWN TO the Angels’ farm. This wasn’t a formal interview – in Scotland the police needed two officers to do that – and she didn’t want the pair to feel awkward or on their guard, protective of their daughter. This should feel like a chat between friends.

  She found Tom and Evelyn together in the smart Hillhead kitchen. The sun was already low behind the hill beyond the farm and the place was in shadow. Willow glimpsed the couple as she walked past the window. They seemed to be having an earnest conversation, heads almost together. They must have heard her footsteps, or sensed that she was there, because she saw them break apart suddenly, as if they’d been caught in a shameful or inappropriate activity. It occurred to her briefly that they might be in some form of collusion with the Johnsons, or that they had been asked to provide an alibi, but they’d both seemed so distressed by Vaila’s loss of her husband, and their daughter’s grief, that she couldn’t believe they would do anything to protect a potential killer. It wasn’t as if they were close friends of the professor and his wife.

  Evelyn had opened the back door into the kitchen before Willow had a chance to knock.

  ‘We saw you go past. You’d best come in.’ It was hardly a welcome.

  ‘I thought I should bring you up to date with the investigation.’

  ‘We’d heard that George Riley had died. You know how news spreads. There was no need for you to traipse out here just to tell us that.’

  Willow was surprised at the antagonism. The woman, who had seemed strong and competent, holding the family together after Archie’s death, now seemed so tense and brittle that she might snap at any moment. Willow bent to take off her boots before going into the immaculate kitchen. Grief hadn’t stopped Evelyn cleaning. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Evelyn rubbed her face with her hand, as if she could wipe away the exhaustion. ‘Neither of us have been sleeping. I know Vaila thought it was the right thing to do, to take the boys in to Kirkwall, but I’d rather she was here in Westray, where I can keep an eye on her. I imagine how low she must be. Maybe she thought they’d be safer there. Now there’s been another death, and out in the mainland . . .’ She stared at Willow, her face bleak. ‘Things like this don’t happen in Orkney.’ Expressing horror and disbelief.

  Oh, believe me, Willow thought, things like this happen everywhere.

  They were standing just inside the door, and Evelyn remembered the island woman’s duty of hospitality. ‘Come along through and get warm. You have to look after yourself, with a bairn on the way.’ Then there was the inevitable offer of tea, and a plate of beremeal shortbread appeared on the breakfast bar.

  ‘How can we help you?’ Tom Angel’s words were polite enough, but the tone was wary, suspicious.

  ‘How well do you know the Johnsons?’

  ‘We explained all that when you were last here.’ Now Tom sounded even more prickly. Willow thought stress would do that to you. She couldn’t jump to conclusions.

  ‘Had you ever heard rumours about how much Magnus Stout contributed to the professor’s research?’

  ‘Magnus was a history nerd, always with his head in some book or another. Tony Johnson was kind to him and made him feel he was useful. I thought he was pandering to his ego.’ Tom was dismissive. Willow sensed there’d been rivalry between the two older men, or at least some jealousy on Tom’s part if Magnus had been the acknowledged leader of the island. That happened sometimes in small communities.

  ‘Some experts believe that Johnson took credit for research that had actually been done by Magnus.’ Willow paused. ‘Archie would have been angry if he’d thought his father hadn’t been sufficiently recognized, that another man had got all the glory for discoveries that had been made by Magnus.’

  ‘What are you implying?’ Evelyn had been standing ready to take the kettle from the hotplate. She turned to face Willow, her eyes on fire, her voice shrill.

  ‘Nothing.’ Willow kept her voice even. She couldn’t understand the couple’s overreaction. Even though they were stressed and tired, it seemed out of all proportion. ‘I’m asking questions, looking for a reason why two men might be dead. Accusations have been made and I have to follow them up. I was hoping that you might help me to get the facts straight.’

  ‘Who’s been making accusations?’ Evelyn spat out the words.

  ‘You know I can’t tell you that.’ Willow paused, wondered how much she could give away. ‘But George Riley had his suspicions about Johnson’s research too, so you can see why I must follow this up. It links the two murders. I can’t ignore that.’

  ‘George Riley. He always seemed a strange sort of teacher to me. All that prancing around on the stage. Dressing up in women’s clothes. Everyone says he’s a fine man, but I’m not sure you could take anything he said too seriously.’ Evelyn poured the hot water into a pot, her voice calmer now and her hands hardly shaking at all.

  The woman was doing her best to appear reasonable, Willow thought, to regain control. And she was almost succeeding.

  ‘Johnson can’t have killed Archie,’ Tom said. ‘He was here with us all evening, until Vaila phoned to say that her man was missing. And I thought that Riley was found in Maeshowe?’ A pause. ‘The Johnsons have been staying here in Westray, in the Pierowall Hotel.’ He spoke slowly and clearly as if stating the obvious to a small child.

  ‘The Johnsons took the ferry out to Kirkwall the day that George Riley was murdered.’ Willow was used to being patronized. It would take more than that to upset her. ‘And of course I’d like to check the timings for the Johnsons’ evening with you.’ She made sure he was listening. ‘We won’t ever have an accurate time of death for Archie. It’s not as it is in TV cop shows. Just because Archie wasn’t in the bar of the hotel when Vaila arrived there, it doesn’t mean that he was already dead.’

  Now both Evelyn and Tom were sitting opposite her. She looked at each of them in turn, checking that they were taking in the implication of what she was saying.

  ‘So I can’t rule the Johnsons out as suspects.’ Now she spoke clearly too. She had a right, she thought, to be a little patronizing herself. ‘That’s why I need to speak to you.’

  Almost simultaneously, they nodded reluctantly. They understood why she was asking the questions, but they didn’t like the premise.

  ‘I know you told us what happened before, but I’d be very grateful if you could take me through that evening again. Evelyn, you start. You’d cooked a special meal. What time did the Johnsons arrive?’

  ‘They were dead on time. Six o’clock, just as we’d said.’

  Archie was still alive then, having supper with Vaila and the boys, so the Johnsons couldn’t have killed him before they arrived.

  ‘And what time did they leave?’

  The pair looked at each other. ‘Soon after Vaila called,’ Tom said.

  ‘Did she call your landline or mobile?’

  ‘The mobile.’ This time Evelyn answered. ‘Through WhatsApp. We have terrible mobile phone reception here, but the broadband is fine, so people know to use that.’

  ‘So you’ll have a record of the exact time of the call on your phone. Would you mind checking for me? Whose phone did Vaila call?’

  ‘Mine,’ Evelyn said. ‘I’ll get it for you. It’s just charging in the other room.’

  She returned with a smartphone that was much more modern and flash than Willow’s, opened it with her thumbprint and scrolled back to check the calls. Then she handed it to Willow. ‘Five minutes to eight.’

  ‘And they left almost immediately?’

  Evelyn nodded. ‘It was a wild night, so it took them a wee while to put on their outdoor clothes and say goodbye, but surely not more than ten minutes.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  George Riley’s car would have been outside the hotel then. Had he changed his mind and decided that he should confront the Johnsons? Everything was confusing.

  ‘Is that all?’ Tom was becoming tense and resentful again.

  ‘Just one question. Did either Tony or Barbara receive a phone call while they were with you?’

  ‘Aye, Tony did.’

  ‘I presume that was on his mobile. So it would have come through WhatsApp too, if your phone reception is poor.’ Which, Willow thought, would be harder to trace, unless the professor decided to be cooperative.

  ‘No,’ Evelyn said. ‘It came through as an ordinary call, and he struggled for a while to make out what the other person was saying. We told him to take it in the front bedroom because there’s usually some reception there.’

  ‘Did he tell you who the caller was?’

  ‘No! And we wouldn’t be cheeky enough to ask. Not our business.’

  ‘He made me think that it was a work call,’ Tom said. At last, the couple had thawed a little and now seemed willing to answer Willow’s questions. ‘When he came back downstairs, he said something like: “No rest for the wicked. And they make out it’s an easy life in academia.”’ He looked across at the detective. ‘That was the impression he wanted to give, that it was to do with the university.’

  Willow stood up, aware of the baby and how much heavier she was feeling. She felt a moment of resentment at having to hoist herself down from the high stool. ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you. That’s all been very helpful.’ She stayed where she was for a moment. ‘I’d be grateful if you’d keep this conversation confidential. Until I’ve talked to the Johnsons, and everything’s been sorted out. In island communities it’s so easy for stories to spread. I’d hate to ruin a good man’s reputation.’

  Evelyn answered almost immediately. ‘Oh, we’re used to keeping secrets in this house. It’s the one thing we’re good at.’

  Willow wanted to ask the woman what she meant, but Evelyn had turned away to show her out, and when she stood by the door, waiting for Willow to put on her boots, her face was hard and blank. It was clear that she already regretted those words and intended to give nothing more away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  WHEN MILES OPENED THE DOOR TO Perez, he looked rough. The hangover he’d predicted must have lasted all day. It was late afternoon, but the man was still in pyjamas and a frayed tartan dressing gown, with slippers on his feet. He hadn’t shaved and his face was grey.

  ‘Ah, Inspector, to what do I owe the pleasure?’ The words were still formal, but today he seemed glad to see Perez. If the detective hadn’t appeared, perhaps he knew he would start drinking again. ‘I’m afraid you don’t find me at my very best, but do come in.’