patience for it. He was more one for quick results. He was a fine builder. He started off working for Jerry Stout and learned the trade from him, then when Jerry died he took over the business. He and Jerry put a new roof on the Manse when Bella moved in. Then Lawrence converted the Herring House. Eve Eunson drew up the plans, but he did all the work on it. More of a labour of love. That’s what he called it. He was down there more than twelve hours a day, getting it ready for the opening. I did some labouring for him when I could. Bella didn’t pay him what he was due. Once the gallery was finished he had offers of work from all over Scotland. He didn’t need to live away. He could have stayed in Shetland and just travelled for the work.’

‘Why did he go?’

Kenny wasn’t sure how much to say. ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t there when it happened. He was besotted with Bella. Whatever she asked he did. He always had plans to marry her. That’s what I think. It was always a dream at the back of his head. No one else would live up to her. He saw other women from time to time, but you could tell he wasn’t serious about them. Bella kept him hanging on a string all the time the Herring House was being built, then once it was finished, I think she made it clear he had no chance with her. She was too selfish to settle down. She’d got what she wanted from him.’ Kenny knew he sounded bitter but he didn’t care. Whenever he thought about it, he was angry.

‘When was this, Kenny?’

‘It was that summer I was in Fair Isle working on the harbour. They’d asked Lawrence to do it, but he was tied up with the last finish on the Herring House and he put the work my way. He knew I was looking to expand the croft and the money would be useful. I never had the chance to say goodbye to him.’

‘He didn’t ask your advice about leaving?’

Kenny smiled to himself. When had Lawrence ever asked anyone’s advice? ‘That wasn’t his style,’ he said. ‘He was kind of impulsive. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone off without telling anyone. When he was nineteen he disappeared; he just left a note for my parents. That time it was backpacking round Australia.’

‘What did he intend to do this time?’

‘I think maybe the Merchant Navy. He was always talking about that. The way to travel and get paid for it. He was always easy in a boat. You know the kids in Biddista, they’re out in a dinghy almost as soon as they can walk. It was natural for him.’ Kenny stopped speaking for a moment. He was thinking of one of those still summer evenings. Him and Lawrence out after mackerel. The boat at anchor, moving with the swell. Lawrence on his feet, balanced, and laughing at some joke Kenny had made.

Perez looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

‘Besides,’ Kenny went on. ‘It was a great romantic gesture, wasn’t it, running away to sea? Lawrence would be one for the big romantic gesture.’

‘When did you last hear from him?’

‘I never have. He left a message with Bella to say he was leaving and he was never in touch with us again.’ He turned to Perez. ‘He could have phoned me at the hostel, couldn’t he? To say goodbye. We didn’t have mobiles then, but he could have tracked me down somewhere. Maybe he was frightened I’d persuade him to stay.’

‘Will you recognize him, do you think?’ Perez asked.

‘I’ve been thinking about that. I got out some photos.’ There’d been one of him, Lawrence, Edith and Bella standing on the jetty grinning into the camera. He couldn’t remember who’d taken it. Aggie maybe. Though surely she’d have been married by then. She wouldn’t still be living at home. But she’d come back to Biddista whenever she could. She’d never been able to stay away.

‘All the same, it’s been a long time. And people look different when they’re dead.’

‘He had a birthmark on his right shoulder,’ Kenny said. ‘However he’s changed, I’ll know him by that.’

‘We could check that for you. If you don’t want to look at the body again.’

But Kenny shook his head. If this did happen to be Lawrence, he wanted to identify him for himself. This was his brother.

Then, it seemed, it was time to look at the body. Kenny couldn’t tell why suddenly they decided the time was right. Nobody came in to tell them. He thought the delay had probably just been an excuse to get him talking.

The body was lying on a steel table. There was no one else in the room. Perez stood by the table and prepared to lift back a sheet so Kenny could see the face. The English policeman still hadn’t said anything, except for a few words of greeting when Perez had introduced him, but he’d followed them in and now stood at Kenny’s shoulder. Kenny wished he’d move back a bit to give him some space. Perez turned and Kenny nodded to show he was ready.

As soon as he saw the face he knew it wasn’t Lawrence. There was no likeness. He wondered how he could ever have doubted his first impression. He should never have listened to Aggie Williamson. He should never have got caught up in her panic. Lawrence had a full, deep forehead and a mouth which was wide, even when he wasn’t laughing. This man had delicate features, thin lips. It could have been a woman’s face, if it hadn’t been for the slight stubble on the chin, the hairy eyebrows. Kenny had a terrible desire to giggle. He pictured the corpse suddenly as one of those drag queens who appeared sometimes on the television, with a false bosom and a blond wig. He supposed it was the release of tension, the relief.

He realized he should say something.

‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s not Lawrence. Definitely not.’

‘We’ll just look for the birthmark, shall we? Just to make sure. You know how the mind plays tricks.’ And Perez folded the sheet back again, very neatly, like a nurse or a soldier preparing a bed for inspection. Now the shoulders and the top of the body were exposed. They must have taken off his clothes. The man’s chest was covered in fine grey hair. Kenny thought he’d been a self-conscious man. He’d shaved his head when his hair turned grey. Lawrence could be vain, right enough, but there was no birthmark on the shoulder. This wasn’t him.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve not seen this man before in my life.’

‘Are you sure?’ Perez was poised, holding the sheet in both his hands. He was leaning across the body. ‘This couldn’t have been the man you saw running away from the Herring House the night of the party?’

Kenny thought about that. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘It could have been. If he was dressed in black. He seems the right sort of height and build. But I couldn’t swear to it. He was a long way off.’

Then Perez replaced the sheet and they returned to the small room with the dusty silk flowers. Kenny had thought the meeting would be over now. It would be all right to go. He imagined Edith waiting for him at home. He’d wasted most of the afternoon, driving here and then sitting in this room, waiting.

But it seemed the Englishman had other ideas. ‘You don’t mind if I just follow up a couple of points?’ Kenny wasn’t sure if he was asking Jimmy Perez or him.

‘Will it take long?’

‘Not long at all.’

‘Could we go out then?’ He wanted to escape that strange, sweet smell. He needed some fresh air.

‘Of course we can go out. Let’s get you a drink somewhere. I expect you could do with one. I could use one myself. You’d think you’d get used to dead bodies in this business, but I never have.’

So Kenny found himself in the Lerwick Hotel, tucked in a corner in the bar. A couple of men were sitting at a table in the restaurant, drinking coffee after a late lunch. Businessmen of some kind, Kenny thought. Something to do with oil or tourism. They weren’t local. Otherwise the place was deserted.

Taylor came back from the bar with three whiskies and a jug of water. Kenny couldn’t remember ordering a drink, but perhaps he had. He was more shaken than he’d realized. Probably it was good not to go back to Edith straight away in this state. Taylor waited until his glass was nearly empty before he put his question.

‘Someone killed that man,’ he said. ‘They strangled him and then stuck a noose round his neck and hoisted him up on to the rafter. Do you know anyone who would have been capable of that?’

‘It wouldn’t have taken such a deal of strength.’ Kenny thought for the first time of the practicalities. ‘He was a slight man. Not a lot of weight to him. The rope to make the noose was there in the hut. Anyone could have done it.’

Taylor smiled. His head was like a skull just covered in skin. When he smiled all his teeth were suddenly visible. ‘I wasn’t thinking of that. Though you’re right of course. But I wasn’t thinking about who might be capable physically. I meant mentally. Who do you know who could do that? Follow the man, or lure him into the hut, kill him, set out the body so it looked like suicide. Who would be calm enough to do that? Who would have the nerve?’

Вы читаете White Nights
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату