He could tell she was confused by his questions. What could this have to do with an old woman’s death? But his interest pleased her too. ‘Mostly over the internet. I hope to develop the business, to teach the old skills to other people. That’s why we built on at the side of the house. The idea is to run residential fibre workshops. I only started advertising at the end of last year and I’ve already got some takers. A small group from the US have booked up for the summer. We won’t be quite ready to put them up in the house – especially with a young baby – so they’ll stay in the hotel and come here for workshops.’ For a moment her anger seemed to dissipate and her face lit up. Work mattered to her. ‘What will they think when they hear about this? It’s the sort of business where you pull in customers by word of mouth. No one will come to the island if they think they’re going to get shot!’

‘Fibre workshops?’ It seemed an odd sort of title. Besides, he was hoping it would calm her to talk about it.

‘Any of the crafts based around wool.’

Perez saw now that she must be wearing one of her own creations, a hand-knitted jersey in natural fleece colours, mostly greys and moorit, a rich dark brown. ‘You spent most of the evening together?’

‘I had dinner ready for Ronald when he got back,’ she said. ‘Neither of us got much sleep the night before. The baby was restless, colicky. I knew Ronald would be tired. And James slept for most of the afternoon.’

Again Perez would have liked to ask where the couple had met. Even on this short acquaintance they seemed an ill-matched partnership. Perhaps Sandy’s description of Ronald had coloured his opinion, but Perez thought the man came across as vague, passive, even allowing for the shock of Mima’s death. Although she looked younger than her husband, Anna was forceful and ambitious. But she cared enough for him to have prepared a meal, to understand that like her he’d had a long, tiring week.

‘Any visitors?’

‘Sorry?’ Ronald frowned.

‘Did you have any visitors yesterday?’

‘Sandy came for lunch to see the baby.’

‘And in the evening?’

‘Aunt Evelyn called in just as we’d finished eating.’

Perez wondered what sort of a cook Anna was. If she was interested in the old Shetland crafts, was she a traditional cook? He wished there was a lingering smell of the food, some dirty pots by the sink, to give him a clue. Why did it matter? Why was he so fascinated by the minute details of other people’s lives? He wanted to recreate in his mind the scene in the kitchen before Ronald had gone out after the rabbits.

‘Who’s she?’ he asked, trying to focus again on the conversation.