Fran’s parents were waiting for them, had probably been looking out for the taxi for hours. Cassie was their only grandchild, but it was more than that. She was all they had left of their daughter. Perez could understand why she was so important. They glimpsed traces of the girl they’d known and the woman they’d lost in Cassie’s eyes, in the way she ran, and in her stubbornness and her fierce independence. They lived in a neat little house in a tree-lined suburb, which had become more fashionable since they’d bought it. There was a new coffee shop on the corner. A woman in an extravagant floral dress walked down the street clutching a small white dog and ignored them.

Fran’s mother took Cassie to the room that had once been Fran’s. It smelled of paint. Perez wondered if the couple had been up all night decorating it. There was a view over city gardens, and everything was green and lush.

‘You’ll stay for an early supper, Jimmy? I thought we’d eat soon because Cassie will be tired.’ She smiled and he thought she was a very good woman. She made such an effort to keep the blame from her voice.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m pushed for time. You know.’

‘But you’ll have a cup of tea at least.’

So he agreed to a cup of tea. He had to respond in some way to her generosity of spirit. Downstairs Fran’s father already had the kettle on. They sat in the tiny garden on uncomfortable wrought-iron seats, balancing the cups on a wobbly wrought-iron table, while Cassie played with the neighbour’s cat and they all tried to pretend there was no tension or awkwardness. He thought even Cassie was relieved when he took his leave. He stood on the doorstep and said he would be there early on Thursday morning to take the girl home. That provoked the only crack in the mask of cordial civilization.

‘So soon, Jimmy?’ Fran’s mother cried. ‘Is that all we have? One full day?’

‘I have to be back in the islands for work.’ The words mild. ‘And Cassie has school.’ He understood that deep down they wanted to capture Cassie and bring her up themselves. How could they entrust her safety to the man who’d allowed their daughter to be killed? But Fran had bequeathed Cassie to him and they all had to respect her wishes.

‘Of course.’ She’d already recovered her composure. ‘You said that it would only be a flying visit.’

‘Why don’t you come up and stay with us?’

‘We will.’ But they’d only been in Shetland once since Fran had died and he knew they’d found the experience distressing. It reminded them of how far she’d grown away from them, even before her murder.