Thin Air: (Shetland book 6) by Ann Cleeves Read Free Book Online Page A

He bent double and tried to catch his breath to speak. Caroline stood up and stroked the hair from his forehead. She could have been comforting an anxious child.
    ‘We’ve found her! I need to tell the police.’ Then he noticed Perez, sitting in the shadow. ‘Who are you?’
    ‘He is the police.’ Caroline’s voice was impatient. ‘You’ve found Nell? Where is she? Is she OK?’
    Lowrie Malcolmson straightened. He ignored his new wife’s questions and directed his words to Perez. ‘Eleanor’s dead,’ he said. ‘You need to come with me.’ Then he put his arms round Caroline’s shoulders and pulled her to him. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Perez saw that he was crying. ‘I know how much she meant to you, and this shouldn’t happen to anyone. I’m so very sorry.’
    Caroline wanted to go with them, but Perez told her to stay where she was. ‘If this is a suspicious death we need the locus contaminated as little as possible.’
    She nodded, as if she could see that made sense. ‘Can I go to Sletts to tell the others?’
    ‘I’d rather you didn’t tell anyone yet. Not until we have something specific to say.’
    She nodded again.
    ‘Are you OK here on your own? Should I get someone to be with you?’
    ‘No,’ she said, and he thought again how strong she was. She could be an island woman from a previous generation, doing all the work on the croft and bringing up a family while her man was at sea; coping alone with the news that he’d been drowned in a storm. ‘Lowrie’s parents will be back soon. I’ll be fine.’
    Eleanor’s body lay on the headland south of Sletts. A murderer would have taken the most direct way from the scene, so Perez took a circuitous route to avoid further contamination. He thought the English people would probably have walked within a hundred yards of here during their exploration of the cliffs the day before. Just away from the marked footpath was a standing stone formed from granite. At its base a small peaty lochan. The stone was reflected in the water, with the colour of the sky and a small white cloud. But the reflection was disturbed by the shape that lay in the shallow pool. Eleanor Longstaff was on her back. Her feet were bare and Perez saw that the toenails were painted. She still wore the bridesmaid’s dress of the night before: full-length cream silk, which seemed to move when a breeze blew across the surface of the water. Her eyes were open wide and stared at the huge sky.

Chapter Seven
    Sandy Wilson was still waiting in the holiday house when the call came through from Jimmy Perez. He was hungry and wondering what they might do about lunch. And he was uncomfortable. These people had turned Sletts into a little piece of London, with their ground coffee and their English voices, the fancy food on the cupboard shelves. He was the Shetlander and yet he felt like a stranger. He went outside to take the call.
    ‘Meet us there, will you, Sandy, once you’ve found someone to sit in with the witnesses?’ Then a list of directions that Sandy jotted on the back of his hand, because he remembered nothing when he was flustered. ‘And while you’re waiting for someone to relieve you, see if you can track down James Grieve and Vicki Hewitt. This is a suspicious death and we want the pathologist and crime scene manager here. I know it’s Sunday, but work your charm, eh? It’d be great if we could get them in today. If not, first thing in the morning.’
    ‘What should I tell the folk in the house?’
    ‘Tell Eleanor’s man that she’s dead. He deserves that. He can decide whether or not to tell the rest of them. If Mary Lomax is back on the island, get her to sit in with them.’ Mary was the North Isles community police officer, middle-aged, motherly and perfect for the job. She’d grown up in Glasgow, but had taken to island life immediately. Apart from the accent, you’d have her down as a native Shetlander.
    Sandy phoned Mary. She said she was back in Unst and that