middle of an African savannah and it still wouldn't seem enough for him. The boundaries must be somewhere inside his head. A stupid thought. He'd drunk the Scotch too quickly.
He realized they were all talking about bringing in Magnus Tait, about how they'd handle it, who'd do the interview. One local and one member of the Inverness team, they decided. And they'd play it gently. Taylor had looked at the Catriona Bruce notes. There'd been an implication that Tait had been roughly handled, he said. No one was going to play silly buggers like that this time. He wasn't having the case thrown out because one of his team lost it. And they were all one team now.
He was including Shetlanders too. He looked around and seemed to embrace them in a sweep of his arm.
Perez could tell that he meant every word of it. Anyone else talked like that and it would make you feel like puking.
Taylor could get away with it. He had them eating out of the palm of his hand.
'I don't think we should jump to the conclusion that Magnus Tait is a killer! Jimmy Perez hadn't meant to speak.
Perhaps he'd been infected by Taylor’s fervour. He sat in his corner, swirling the oily whisky in his glass.
'Why?' Taylor stopped stretching. He crouched, a hand on each side of his body on the floor to steady himself, reminding Perez again of an ape. His face was level with Perez's now.
Perez listed the concerns, the problems he'd been worrying over as he sat in the car. The victims were different. If Tait was a killer, why had he waited this long to do it again? Catherine Ross was a streetwise girl from the city. She was physically strong. She wouldn't stand there waiting for Magnus to murder her.
'If not Tait, who then?' Taylor demanded.
Perez shrugged. All the circumstantial evidence pointed to Magnus, but he didn't want to sleepwalk into an arrest without considering the alternatives.
'I don't have any theories,' he said. 'I just want to keep an open mind!
'Was there a boyfriend?'
'Maybe. She stayed with someone the night before she disappeared!
'And we don't know who that was?'
'Not yet. I've been asking around. He shouldn't be too hard to trace!
'A priority to find out, wouldn't you say?' Nobody answered.
Suddenly Taylor stood up again. 'I'm off to my bed,' he said. "Tomorrow’s going to be busy. I need my beauty sleep and so do you!
Perez thought that Taylor wouldn't be one for sleeping much. He imagined him awake all night, walking backwards and forwards, caged in his room.
Chapter Fourteen
Jimmy Perez walked to his house. It was only five minutes from the hotel. He stopped once to look across the harbour to a huge factory ship. The vessel was lit up but there was no sign of anyone working. The narrow streets were empty. In the cold he felt sober and clearheaded.
He lived on the waterfront in a tiny house crammed between two bigger ones. There was a tidemark on the external stone wall and in rough weather the salt spray whipped against even the upstairs window. The house was cramped, damp and impractical. There was no parking. If his parents stayed he had to sleep on the sofa. He'd bought it on a romantic whim after Sarah had left and he'd moved back to Shetland. He couldn't quite regret it. It was like having a home on a boat. Inside it was much like a boat too. Very tidy. Everything in its place.
He didn't care about his appearance but he cared how the house looked. The walls of the living room were lined with horizontal wood panels, neatly fitted carvel-fashion, painted grey. An attempt, he realized now, to hide the effect of the damp. Wallpaper would be impossible. The only window was small and looked out over the water.
He could stand in the middle of the galley kitchen and touch each wall.
It was precisely midnight when he stepped through the door. Taylor had said he wanted everyone in the Incident Room an hour before first light the next day, but Perez wasn't ready for sleep. As he switched on the kettle to make
He realized they were all talking about bringing in Magnus Tait, about how they'd handle it, who'd do the interview. One local and one member of the Inverness team, they decided. And they'd play it gently. Taylor had looked at the Catriona Bruce notes. There'd been an implication that Tait had been roughly handled, he said. No one was going to play silly buggers like that this time. He wasn't having the case thrown out because one of his team lost it. And they were all one team now.
He was including Shetlanders too. He looked around and seemed to embrace them in a sweep of his arm.
Perez could tell that he meant every word of it. Anyone else talked like that and it would make you feel like puking.
Taylor could get away with it. He had them eating out of the palm of his hand.
'I don't think we should jump to the conclusion that Magnus Tait is a killer! Jimmy Perez hadn't meant to speak.
Perhaps he'd been infected by Taylor’s fervour. He sat in his corner, swirling the oily whisky in his glass.
'Why?' Taylor stopped stretching. He crouched, a hand on each side of his body on the floor to steady himself, reminding Perez again of an ape. His face was level with Perez's now.
Perez listed the concerns, the problems he'd been worrying over as he sat in the car. The victims were different. If Tait was a killer, why had he waited this long to do it again? Catherine Ross was a streetwise girl from the city. She was physically strong. She wouldn't stand there waiting for Magnus to murder her.
'If not Tait, who then?' Taylor demanded.
Perez shrugged. All the circumstantial evidence pointed to Magnus, but he didn't want to sleepwalk into an arrest without considering the alternatives.
'I don't have any theories,' he said. 'I just want to keep an open mind!
'Was there a boyfriend?'
'Maybe. She stayed with someone the night before she disappeared!
'And we don't know who that was?'
'Not yet. I've been asking around. He shouldn't be too hard to trace!
'A priority to find out, wouldn't you say?' Nobody answered.
Suddenly Taylor stood up again. 'I'm off to my bed,' he said. "Tomorrow’s going to be busy. I need my beauty sleep and so do you!
Perez thought that Taylor wouldn't be one for sleeping much. He imagined him awake all night, walking backwards and forwards, caged in his room.
Chapter Fourteen
Jimmy Perez walked to his house. It was only five minutes from the hotel. He stopped once to look across the harbour to a huge factory ship. The vessel was lit up but there was no sign of anyone working. The narrow streets were empty. In the cold he felt sober and clearheaded.
He lived on the waterfront in a tiny house crammed between two bigger ones. There was a tidemark on the external stone wall and in rough weather the salt spray whipped against even the upstairs window. The house was cramped, damp and impractical. There was no parking. If his parents stayed he had to sleep on the sofa. He'd bought it on a romantic whim after Sarah had left and he'd moved back to Shetland. He couldn't quite regret it. It was like having a home on a boat. Inside it was much like a boat too. Very tidy. Everything in its place.
He didn't care about his appearance but he cared how the house looked. The walls of the living room were lined with horizontal wood panels, neatly fitted carvel-fashion, painted grey. An attempt, he realized now, to hide the effect of the damp. Wallpaper would be impossible. The only window was small and looked out over the water.
He could stand in the middle of the galley kitchen and touch each wall.
It was precisely midnight when he stepped through the door. Taylor had said he wanted everyone in the Incident Room an hour before first light the next day, but Perez wasn't ready for sleep. As he switched on the kettle to make
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