A skein of greylag geese flew overhead and landed in the flat field behind him. In the distance he saw the ruins of Noltland Castle, romantic, the stuff of adventure stories. As he’d expected, Dr Grieve was crouching beside the body. This adventure was Gothic too, but far too close to home.

  ‘You’re back then, Doc? You’ve had more retirement bashes than I’ve had arrests.’ Perez was keeping it light. Not wanting the pathologist to know how closely involved he’d been with the man, how deeply the death had hit him.

  The words were muffled by his crime suit mask, but the doctor must have heard them. He just pretended that he hadn’t, and Perez continued: ‘I hoped it would be you.’

  ‘There’s nobody else, Jimmy.’ He paused. ‘This is a strange kind of do. Where would anyone get a stone with all that fancy carving?’

  Perez could answer that question at least. ‘From the heritage centre. It’s known as the Westray story stone, one of a pair.’ He made a sweeping gesture with his arm. ‘This land has been extensively excavated by archaeologists, and once, it was part of a Neolithic settlement.’ A pause. ‘That suggests planning, doesn’t it? If there was an argument, leading to a fight, you’d grab the nearest thing to hand. You wouldn’t wait to steal an ancient stone from the island museum.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Grieve was unwilling to commit himself to anything beyond the body. ‘But I’d say he was killed here. This is the crime scene. The body wasn’t moved any distance.’ Another pause. ‘There aren’t many rocks in the immediate vicinity that would cause that kind of damage. Besides, look at the blood.’

  Perez thought that was even more reason to suggest that the crime had been planned, but the whole death was mystifying. Archie had been a huge personality, given to occasional outbreaks of temper, but here on Westray he was truly loved. He’d gone out of his way to help people – the afternoon of his death he’d been delivering firewood. Here, they’d forgive him anything for the warmth of his smile and his generosity. It occurred to Perez then that he should check who else had been staying on the island. This might not be peak tourist season, but the Pierowall Hotel had rooms. Islanders might have guests with them too: friends and family visiting for the holidays. Though the island had a population of five hundred and it wouldn’t be easy to check out all the visitors, the thought that Archie could have been killed by an outsider was strangely reassuring.

  ‘I don’t suppose you can give me anything approaching a time of death.’

  The pathologist straightened. ‘By now, you should know better than to ask me that.’ He returned to his work.

  Phil and Ellie were standing some distance away, listening and watching.

  ‘How’s the victim’s wife?’ Ellie asked. ‘Vaila, is it?’

  ‘Just about holding it together. She’s gone to her mother’s place to tell her teenage sons that their father is dead.’ Perez paused, wondering if Vaila had told the boys yet, how that was going. ‘Can you look after them all when she gets home? She’s in shock now, but this doesn’t look like the work of an islander to me. If it had been in the bar, some fight that had got out of hand, I might have been able to understand it. But not this. This is theatrical. Odd.’

  ‘And only incomers are odd?’

  He gave a little laugh. ‘I don’t think of you as an incomer.’

  ‘All the same . . .’

  ‘You’re right, of course. I’ll make an effort to keep an open mind.’

  ‘Well, you’re an incomer yourself! Fair Isle might be close enough as the crow flies, and there are connections, I know, but Shetlanders and Orcadians are a different kind of breed.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I suppose they are.’ The trite saying was that Orcadians were farmers with a boat, and Shetlanders were fishermen with a croft. It held some truth. Orkney was less bleak, more wooded, more fertile. Rounder and softer, despite some dramatic cliffs. Willow said that the landscape here was less macho than Shetland and Perez thought she was right. If islands could be gendered, Orkney would be feminine.

  ‘You want me to find out from Vaila if Archie had any contact this week with visitors?’

  ‘Aye.’ Perez laughed again more awkwardly. ‘Something like that.’

  Perez drove to the hotel. Archie’s car was still parked there and Perez thought that was something else he should do. The crime scene team were due in on the lunchtime ferry, and he’d need to keep it uncontaminated until they arrived. He suspected it wouldn’t be locked – only visitors locked their cars here – and he was tempted to have a thorough look inside. Instead, he used gloves to take the keys from the ignition and clicked it shut. It was the best he could do until the team could take over.

  The hotel looked out over the water. It was welcoming in the low winter sunlight, and there was a fire in the bar inside. He realized how hungry he was; he’d not had a meal the night before and it wouldn’t have been right eating in front of Vaila. The landlord was preparing for any lunchtime customers and recognized him.

  ‘What a terrible business this is, Jimmy!’

  Naturally, everyone on the island would know of Archie’s death by now. ‘Can you do me a strong coffee and a bacon sandwich?’

  ‘Of course I can. Anything you need, just say.’ Bill was a new islander. He’d arrived originally from Belfast and there was still the accent to set him apart. He’d been running the hotel with his Orcadian wife for thirty years, but the awareness of difference was there, all the same. ‘Annie will sort you out.’ Annie was his wife, a quiet, nimble woman, who kept things running smoothly in the background. She’d looked middle-aged when she was twenty, and now, approaching her sixties, she didn’t look any different. Bill was a joker. He could have the whole bar in fits, smooth over any tension by turning it into laughter. Despite the difference in ages, he and Archie had been close friends.

  ‘This was Archie’s second home,’ Bill said now. ‘I can’t imagine the place without him.’

  ‘You were expecting him in last night?’

  ‘His pals were expecting him, sure enough.’

  ‘They were surprised when he didn’t turn up?’ Perez was distracted briefly by the smell of bacon frying from the kitchen beyond the bar. Annie MacBride was working her magic.

  ‘I don’t know if there was a definite arrangement, but aye, there was some comment at his not being here.’ A pause. ‘They thought Vaila was cracking the whip. There’s a lot to do this close to Christmas if you have a family.’

  ‘And then Vaila turned up looking for him?’

  ‘Yes, she braved the storm and drove down the road to collect him. At first, we thought she was getting her own back for all the times she’d stayed at home with the bairns, that she’d left him in the house with the lads and was in the bar for a bit of craic herself.’ A pause. ‘There was a kind of cheer when she came in. Ironic, you know.’

  Perez nodded. He could picture the scene.

  ‘Then it turned out she’d been expecting him here.’ Bill looked out at Perez. He was a big man, with shaggy white hair. His large head always reminded Perez of an animal. Maybe an old English sheepdog. ‘At first there was no panic. We thought he’d be in one of the houses drinking, keeping one of the old boys company on a wild, winter night. It was the sort of thing he might do. He was a kind man.’

  ‘He was.’

  And I loved him, Perez thought again.

  ‘But Vaila had seemed certain that he’d be here,’ MacBride went on. ‘She said he’d been out visiting in the afternoon. So she used her mobile to get in touch with all their friends, and we got on the landline to go through the Westray directory to speak to everyone else on the island and nobody had seen him.’

  ‘How did Vaila seem when she arrived in the bar?’ Perez hated asking the question. ‘Did she look as if she’d spent any time out in the gale?’

  Bill looked at him sharply. ‘No! Nothing like that. A bit damp maybe, but it was raining so hard that she’d get wet just running from the car.’

  There was an awkward silence before Perez asked the next question. ‘Do you have any guests staying?’

  ‘Not many just now. A middle-aged couple who met here in Westray and are celebrating some kind of anniversary. The Johnsons. He’s a professor, a bit of a celebrity because he’s appeared on the telly. An expert in the history of the island, apparently. He brought a film crew in a while ago. We were hoping they’d stay here, but they were in and out in a day. She’s something arty. And Godfrey Lansdown, who’s an elderly guy, a regular. A kind of naturalist writing a book about the island.’ A pause. ‘We’re expecting more visitors in tomorrow and the day after. Mostly folk who used to live here or relatives of islanders. Will that be okay, Jimmy?’

  Perez nodded. ‘There’ll still be areas cordoned off, but I don’t see why not.’

  ‘I’d hate to turn customers away. This time of year, we’re grateful for all the business we can get.’

  ‘Where are your guests now?’

  Bill shrugged. ‘They all went out straight after breakfast. The prof and his wife were getting the ferry to Papay, I think. Godfrey said he wanted to make the most of the light for a walk.’

  ‘Did they know Archie’s dead?’

  ‘They knew he was missing last night. They all went out this morning before the news came through that you’d found the body.’

  They’ll know by now, Perez thought. Even on Papay the news will be out. Papa Westray was a small island with a great community spirit, linked to Westray by ferry and history.

  ‘I’ll need the full names and contacts of your visitors.’

  Bill paused and then nodded. ‘Of course. But I’m not sure how well they’d have known Archie, apart from meeting him in here. Why would they want to have killed him?’ There was a hopeful edge to the question. It seemed to Perez that Bill too would much rather one of the ferry-loupers was the killer than an islander.

  Annie appeared before Perez could reply. She looked grey and tired. Nobody had managed much sleep the night before. She set a plate with the sandwich and a mug of coffee in front of Perez.

  ‘This is a terrible business, Jimmy. You’ll clear it up soon.’ She looked out at the room decorated with a tree and lights and strings of paper lanterns. He knew what she was saying: Clear it up by Christmas. Please bring things back to normal by then.

  It hadn’t quite been a question and he didn’t answer. He wasn’t one for giving false promises.

  ‘Why don’t you get a coffee for yourselves? I’d like to talk to you both before folk start coming in. I need to know who was here last night. When people left.’ He paused, wondering how much of Archie’s death he should give away, then he thought that news would get out soon enough and he needed information more than secrecy.

  Annie sat beside him without bothering to get herself a drink. Bill came out from the bar and took a seat next to her.

  ‘I’m interested in the story stones,’ he said. ‘They’re kept in the heritage centre, aren’t they?’

  ‘Aye. Apparently, the prof is an expert. He went in to look at them when he first arrived. We arranged for the centre to be open for him.’ She shot him a look across the table but didn’t ask why he wanted to know. Maybe listening to other folk’s tales in the bar had made her incurious.

  ‘Would you mind having a look this morning? See if they’re both still there.’

  ‘Sure.’ Still, she didn’t ask why he wanted to know, but she had a question of her own.

  ‘When did Archie die?’

  Jimmy knew what Doc Grieve would say. ‘Vaila last saw him after having had supper with the boys. I found him at nearly seven o’clock this morning. So between those times. It’s not like in the films. Impossible to be more precise.’

  ‘It could have been anyone then?’ Annie sounded distraught.

  Perez nodded. ‘But maybe more likely soon after he left Nistaben. Otherwise, surely, he’d have turned up here where everyone was expecting him.’ Nistaben was at the other end of the island, close to the Rapness ferry terminal, but no more than fifteen minutes’ drive away.

  His car is here though. So what does that mean?

  Bill shot a glance at Annie.

  ‘What?’ Perez said. ‘You think he might have been somewhere else?’

  ‘He was always a ladies’ man. You know that, Jimmy.’

  ‘Aye, when he was younger. Not now!’

  Silence.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘There’s a young Englishwoman who’s renting Quoybrae, the big house just out of Pierowall. She makes jewellery from silver and sea glass. Bonny stuff. Sells it in Kirkwall but mostly online. Rumours are he’s fallen for her.’

  ‘Were his feelings reciprocated?’ Perez knew better than to ask if the rumours were true. Bill wouldn’t have spoken about them otherwise. Besides, Archie had a history of making a fool of himself over women.

  ‘Not at first,’ Annie said. ‘But I had a feeling she was warming to him.’

  ‘Tell me about her.’

  ‘Her name is Rosalie Greeman. She’s in her thirties. She arrived in the late spring, and we thought she’d just be here for a couple of months while the weather was good, and the nights were light. You know what it’s like, Jimmy. These arty folk fall for the dream but they can’t cope with the dark days and the lack of facilities.’

  ‘Is she single?’

  Annie nodded. ‘It seems so. She doesn’t speak much of her life before she came to the island, but there are stories of course. I heard that her man died young. An accident or illness maybe. There was a lot of sympathy for her.’

  Perez nodded. He could understand that. He’d lost Fran, the love of his life, when he was a relatively young man too. After his divorce, he thought he’d never get close to another woman, and then one snowy midwinter he’d met and fallen head over heels with Fran, a single mother. She’d left him Cassie, her child. A gift and a responsibility.

  Annie was still speaking. ‘But then people’s attitude changed a bit when they thought she was having an affair with Archie.’ A pause. ‘I hoped that the rumours wouldn’t chase her away.’

  Perez hadn’t heard any of these rumours. Westray was quite a different place from Orkney mainland and news didn’t always travel. Archie wouldn’t have mentioned it. He thought Perez was strait-laced and would have known that he’d disapprove.

  ‘But Rosalie’s staying through the winter?’

  ‘Aye. It seems she’ll make this her permanent home. She’s become a part of island life now: she helps out with art classes at the school, trained to join the fire crew and takes her turn up to the airstrip with the fender when the planes are due in. In the summer she volunteered in the heritage centre.’

  ‘She’s liked?’

  This time the answer came immediately: ‘Yes, generally.’ A pause. ‘Perhaps I was more worried that Archie would have chased her away, rather than the gossip of Westray folk.’

  ‘He was making a nuisance of himself?’

  ‘Not exactly a nuisance, but he was kind of flirty. At first, I thought there was no harm in it if he was making her feel good about herself. In the last month or two, I’ve wondered if there might be something more serious between them.’ Annie looked up at Perez. ‘A couple of times he was seen coming out of her house, when he had no real reason to be there.’ She shrugged. ‘It could have been nothing, but you know how people talk.’

  Perez knew. ‘Vaila must have been aware of the gossip.’

  ‘This is Westray, Jimmy. There are things we don’t speak of to the people concerned, but we’re all aware of the gossip.’

  ‘Was Miss Greeman in here last night?’

  They shook their heads in unison, sad, it seemed, that they couldn’t provide the woman with any kind of alibi.

  ‘Can you give me a list of everyone who was in last night?’

  ‘Of course.’

  There were six of them. Most of the names were familiar to Perez. He’d met them in here on his visits to Archie and Vaila. He’d eaten meals in many of the houses and listened to their music. Perez made a note of the names, finished his sandwich and coffee and stood up.

  ‘I might need a room for the night. Have you got one free?’

  ‘Sure. There’s a lovely double and I’ll reserve that for you. And a couple of singles in case Phil and Ellie need to stay over.’

  Perez nodded his thanks and walked outside.

  Chapter Four

  PEREZ MADE HIS WAY BACK TO Nistaben. It was seven miles away, and he drove slowly through the fertile farmland, still frosty in the shade of walls and houses. He wasn’t looking forward to this. He parked outside the byre and heard the cows moving inside as he made his way to the house. He paused there for a moment and looked in through the window at Vaila and Ellie. It was only early afternoon, but already the sun was low in the sky and the women were caught in a deep red glow. They were both sitting at the kitchen table. Vaila must be back from her parents’ house and Ellie had joined her as he’d asked. He supposed Phil Bain was still with the pathologist, helping. Or getting in the way.

  There was more tea in the pot on the table in front of the window. He thought they’d all be swimming in the stuff by the end of the day. Perez wondered suddenly, with a sharp longing, if he’d get home to Orkney mainland that night to see Willow and his son. Probably not. It was just as well he’d booked himself into the hotel. There might be press turning up once word of the murder got out. They’d see a killing on a remote island where nobody bothered locking their doors as a great story. Especially just before Christmas. It would be like one of those old-fashioned mystery stories set between the wars. He pulled out his phone, planning to call his woman, but Ellie glanced up, saw him and waved. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and went inside.

  Vaila had been crying. The initial shock seemed to have passed and the grieving had begun. Perez felt a stab of sympathy and had to remind himself again that she wasn’t a friend and a bereaved wife now, but a potential suspect. If Archie had been playing away with the arty Englishwoman at Quoybrae, Vaila had motive as well as opportunity. He couldn’t believe that she’d killed her husband, but he had to train his thoughts to consider the possibility.