‘Hvidahus, on the east side, not far away. It’s a newish bungalow. Henderson built it when his wife was first ill.’ Perez looked up at her. ‘And we should talk to the harbour master. Those are work clothes. Henderson was either getting ready for his shift at Sullom Voe or he’d just finished. It’d help fix the time of death to know when he was working.

They stared at each other again, and this time it was Willow who broke the silence. ‘Wait till Sandy gets here and I’ll come with you to Henderson’s place. I want to see where he lived. In the meantime, see if you can get the harbour master on the phone.’

Perez nodded and walked away from her to make the call.

Willow made the final phone call on her mental list: to Rhona Laing. A polite and distant male voice said that the Fiscal wasn’t available. When pressed, the man said that she had taken a couple of days’ leave. He was her assistant. Perhaps he could help?

Sandy Wilson and Vicki Hewitt turned up and then it was like any murder investigation. The same routine and the same questions: questions Willow knew the CSI would refuse to answer with any certainty.

‘Cause of death?’

‘Looks like a stab wound, as you said on the phone. I’d guess he was killed elsewhere, though.’

‘How long has he been dead?’ Again Willow found it impossible to be still. All those days in the big barn in the commune – the daily meditation, lying on her back, staring at the beams in the ceiling, learning to relax her body and focus her mind. All that for nothing here, when she should be calm, and every nerve and muscle tensed and twanged and she hopped from foot to foot like a kid needing a wee.

Vicki looked up and grinned briefly, gave the old and practised response. ‘Tell me when he was last seen and I’ll let you know. Between then and when you found him. Otherwise, wait for the pathologist. He’ll tell you what the man last had to eat.’

‘Dozens of people drive along this road every day. Someone would have noticed a corpse on the verge.’

‘Would they?’ Vicki said. ‘Of course, standing here we can tell it’s a man, not a dummy, but driving past, glimpsing the figures from the corner of your eye, and being accustomed to them being here . . . Did you know?’

Willow thought that something about the dummies had made her slow down and pull over, but Vicki was probably right.

‘It rained very heavily in the night,’ Sandy said suddenly. ‘Wouldn’t his clothes be wetter than that, if he was out here since yesterday?’