Red Bones (Shetland Quartet 3)

Sandy had been a bit frightened of his uncle when he was a boy.
    There was a moment of silence. Then they heard Jackie slam the front door and the roar of the Audi as she drove it down the track to the road.
    ‘This is Jimmy Perez,’ Sandy said. ‘He’s my boss. You don’t mind him listening in while we talk?’
    There was a pause, a brief shake of the head.
    ‘Your father knew the men on the Shetland Bus? He built boats for them?’ Sandy had just bitten into a piece of flapjack, it was more crumbly than he’d been expecting and the oats fell out of his mouth as he spoke. He felt himself blushing, wondered what Perez would think of his clumsiness.
    Andrew continued to stare at him then nodded.
    ‘Did he ever talk to you about it?’
    ‘They built the yoals the Norwegian men used once they got to their country.’
    ‘Responsible work,’ Perez said. ‘They’d have known the Norwegians’ lives depended on it.’
    Andrew stared at him and nodded again. ‘The Whalsay men took the yoals out into open sea to test them.’
    ‘It must have been scary, out there in a tiny boat.’
    ‘They were young,’ Andrew said. ‘Reckless. They thought they’d live for ever. And they were all pals together.’ He stumbled occasionally over a word, but he knew what he wanted to say.
    ‘Jerry was with them too. Mima’s Jerry.’
    ‘He was just a boy. More reckless than anyone, my father said.’
    ‘You’ve heard they found some old bones at Setter?’
    This time the silence lasted so long that Sandy thought Andrew hadn’t heard him.
    ‘They don’t tell me things any more.’
    ‘The lass from the university found them.’
    ‘The one that died?’ This time the response was immediate and so sharp that Sandy was surprised. He hadn’t thought Hattie’s death had registered at all with his uncle.
    ‘She found a skull,’ he said. ‘At least my mother found it while she was working there as a volunteer. Then I believe it was the other one, Sophie, who found some bones.’
    There was a pause. Andrew raised a mug of cold coffee to his mouth and slurped it.
    ‘My boss seems to think the bones could come from that time,’ Sandy said. ‘That they might belong to a Norwegian man. Did your father ever talk about that?’
    Now Andrew turned towards Perez. ‘Why do you want to know? Why are you still here if the woman killed herself?’
    ‘Oh, you understand how it is,’ Perez said. ‘There are forms to fill in, boxes to tick.’
    Andrew nodded, apparently reassured. ‘Fishing got that way too in the end.’
    ‘So did your father talk about the dead Norwegian?’
    Another pause. Andrew seemed deep in thought. ‘He mentioned it.’ There was a brief grin, which reminded Sandy of how his uncle had been before the illness. The life and soul of any gathering, a teller of jokes, a dancer. He could fill a room with his laughter. He could drink more than any man on the island and still stay standing. ‘After a few drinks he’d talk about the war.’
    ‘What did he say?’
    ‘That he was shit-scared every time he went out to test a yoal. That maybe he owed his life to Jerry Wilson.’
    Sandy had a sudden flash of intuition. It was something in Andrew’s voice. ‘Is that why he kept quiet about the dead Norwegian?’
    Andrew looked up at him. ‘Has someone been talking?’ Again a reminder of the old Andrew, who had a fearsome temper when he was roused.
    ‘No.’ I’ve just learned a few skills from Perez. ‘Will you tell me what happened?’
    ‘How would I know? I wasn’t there.’
    ‘You’ll remember your father’s stories.’
    ‘Maybe they shouldn’t be told.’
    ‘Two people have died,’ Sandy said. ‘It has to stop. And folks will go on thinking Ronald shot Mima if we don’t find out what happened.’
    ‘They’ll soon forget.’
    ‘Will they?’ Sandy demanded. ‘Will his wife?’
    Andrew sat in silence again for so long that Sandy thought Jackie would soon be back from the shop.
    ‘I only know what my father told me,’ Andrew said at last. ‘I can’t say if it’s true. I think it’s true but I can’t be sure.’
    ‘I understand that. Old stories. Who knows what to believe?’
    ‘They say that Jerry Wilson shot a Norwegian lad.’
    ‘I heard that. It was because he’d betrayed some Shetland boys to the Germans.
    ‘No,’ Andrew said. ‘That was the story they put about on the island when folks started asking questions. But that wasn’t what happened. Not according to my