‘Have you booked your travel?’ Sandy asked. Back to the facts again. He felt happier already. ‘We could help with that.’

‘I’m speaking to you from Heathrow,’ she said. ‘I’m already checked in for the Aberdeen flight. I get into Sumburgh late afternoon.’

‘OK.’ Sandy was in awe of someone who could arrange travel so quickly, on a whim. ‘We’ll arrange for someone to meet you.’

‘Will it be you?’ Annabel asked, and for the first time she sounded anxious.

‘I’m not sure.’ Sandy was out of his depth again. ‘Would you like it to be?’

‘Yes.’ The voice incisive. ‘I would.’

He looked across at Willow, who nodded. ‘Well then,’ he said. ‘Yes, I’ll be there. And we’ll organize accommodation for you.’

‘Ah,’ she said. ‘Of course you will. I should have had more faith.’

Willow asked Sandy to go with her to interview Maria Markham. It was on the way to the airport, and she said Jimmy Perez could supervise the incident room as soon as he got back from Aith. He could keep tabs on the information coming in. Sandy wasn’t sure what Perez would have made of that. Maybe he would have liked to meet Jerry Markham’s girlfriend, but when he arrived back at the station Perez didn’t say anything. He just nodded and took Sandy’s place by the phone.

Maria Markham saw them in the hotel office on the ground floor, not in the flat. Sandy thought she wanted to keep them away from her personal space. She was wearing office clothes too – a grey, fitted suit, which looked a little too large, as if she’d already shrunk after hearing the news of her son’s death. Her hair was clean and pinned back from her face and she’d put on lipstick.

‘Peter’s out,’ she said. ‘He has a friend who’s a sailor and has offered him a day on the water. I encouraged him to go. He needed to get away from this place, just for a day. It was killing him. He didn’t love Jerry as I loved him. Inevitably. A father doesn’t have the same bond. But now he feels guilty, and thinks if he’d loved Jerry more, he’d have kept him safe. Quite ridiculous, but I can’t help feeling that too. That somehow it was Peter’s fault. We all need someone to blame perhaps and, until the killer is found, I only have my husband.’ She paused, embarrassed by the confessional stream of words. ‘I’m sorry. All this must sound very silly.’

‘We will find the killer, Mrs Markham.’ Willow sounded so confident that Sandy almost believed her too. ‘But we need your help. That’s why we’re intruding on your grief again.’