Perez turned round just for a moment. ‘Sorry, not now. Give me a few minutes.’

‘Jimmy, it’s important.’

For a moment Perez hesitated. Despite himself he always felt sorry for Maurice. ‘Really,’ he said. ‘This won’t take long. Wait in the flat and I’ll be along as soon as I’ve finished here.’ And he turned his back so he didn’t have to look at the man’s sad, pleading eyes.

In the bird room, he made it formal, as if this was an interview room at the police station. Perez asked all the questions. Sandy sat in a corner, a notebook on his knee.

Despite the bloody nose, Hugh still managed a grin. ‘Shouldn’t you caution me, Inspector? Have a tape recorder running so there’s no misunderstanding? I doubt Sandy could run to shorthand.’

‘This is just an informal chat,’ Perez said. ‘But we can ship you out in the boat tomorrow if you prefer. Talk to you in Lerwick. That way you could have a solicitor present. I’m not quite sure what the horde of reporters still very interested in the case would make of that. They might just misinterpret helping the police with their inquiries. Your parents might not be too pleased to have your name all over the tabloids.’

‘No need for that,’ Hugh said quickly. ‘Of course I’m only too pleased to help.’ He dabbed at his nose with what looked like a tea towel.

‘I’ve always wanted to travel,’ Perez said. ‘Never really had the chance.’

‘You should!’ Hugh’s face lit up. Here he was on safe ground. The eccentric Englishman abroad, the charmer, the storyteller. ‘My favourite part was coming back along the old silk route. Most of those places, they don’t see a European from one year to the next. There’s something about a desert—’

‘But expensive,’ Perez interrupted. ‘Even roughing it, you have to eat. And you’d want the occasional beer.’ He got up and switched on the light. Outside, it was almost dark, the time of day Shetlanders called ‘the darkenin’’.

‘Hey, my parents were glad to get me out of their hair. They thought it would be educational. Money well spent, they thought.’

‘Until recently,’ Perez said. ‘Recently, I understand, they’ve been less obliging. You’ve had to look elsewhere to fund your adventurous lifestyle.’

There was a moment of silence.

‘Why did Angela Moore give you two thousand five hundred pounds?’

Another moment of silence, then a return of the practised grin. Perez thought he would always be a con man. In the past he’d have been one of those quacks selling snake oil and charms to delusional and desperate people.

‘Hey, she fancied me,’ Hugh said. ‘What can I say? She didn’t want me to leave so she offered me money to stay on. Was I going to turn it down?’