‘I need to show you this.’ Mary set a big notebook in front of him. It was Fran’s sketchpad. She’d been working in it all the time they were on the island. Notes and doodles and ideas for paintings. Including the picture of Sheep Rock she’d planned to make for his parents.

Perez was relieved. They’d found the book and thought he would want it as a memento. Then worried that it might upset him. No big deal. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d found scraps of her work all over his house. There’d be more in her place in Ravenswick. One day, perhaps, he’d collect her stuff together, have an exhibition in the Herring House gallery in Biddista.

‘I was tempted just to throw it away,’ Mary said, ‘but James said I shouldn’t. He said we should leave the decision to you.’ She opened the book and turned the pages, put it back on the table again.

It was a page of writing, large and bold and obviously Fran’s. Done in charcoal. She’d often left notes for him in the kitchen at Ravenswick in exactly the same form. Just dropping Cass at Duncan’s. Wine in the fridge. Can you make a start on supper? For a moment he couldn’t bring himself to read it. It brought her so close to him, made him realize all over again what he’d lost. And when he did read it he could hear her speaking in his head. Making a joke, but serious at the same time:

To whom it may concern. In the event of my sudden death, for example in that bloody little plane or if the boat should capsize, I entrust my daughter Cassandra to the care of James Alexander (Jimmy) Perez. He thinks of her as his own and I can think of nobody better to look after her.

Then came the signature that Scottish art experts and gallery owners would recognize.

That was it. Two sentences. Perez could hear the gulls calling outside. He said nothing. Had Fran realized that he thought of Cassie sometimes as a replacement for his unborn child? They’d never discussed it. Too mawkish, he’d thought. Too daft.

‘I think it’s too much to ask,’ Mary said crossly. ‘To become legal guardian of another man’s child. Besides, Hunter would never stand for it. Just tear this up. Who would know?’

For a moment Perez was tempted. This was the last thing he wanted, not because he didn’t care for Cassie. He adored her more now than ever; she was all he had left of Fran. But because the only way he could cope with the gut-wrenching guilt was to become dead himself. Not to feel. Not to think. You couldn’t bring up a child if you were emotionally dead.

‘I’d know,’ he said. And he thought Hunter would stand for it. He was a pragmatic man, not given to sentiment. He loved Cassie but he wouldn’t want to wash her clothes or clean up her snotty nose if she had a cold. And it made sense in another way. The alternative would be for Fran’s parents to take Cassie south with them and Hunter wouldn’t want that either. It would be a muddle and Perez would have to involve Hunter again in his life in a way that would be a daily penance, but they could make it work. He took the paper from his mother’s hands. ‘It’s the least I can do for Fran, don’t you think?’

It was almost as if he’d been in court and a life sentence had been handed down. He felt the relief of reparation, but the pain of facing the real world again. For him there could be no escape into drink or manual labour. No turning wood or keeping sheep. He’d keep his job to provide for Cassie. There’d be no involvement this time in his work though. No empathy. Jimmy Perez the detective was coming back to life, but he’d be a harder, less forgiving man.

Praise for Ann Cleeves

BLUE LIGHTNING

‘A real, page-turning thriller. It is beautifully crafted, belonging to the golden age of well-fashioned detective fiction . . . a terrific, atmospheric novel’

Frances Fyfield

‘Cleeves is excellent not just on the mystery, but on the atmosphere of Fair Isle, and the effect of its strange character on the human population’

Independent

‘Great atmospheric suspense’

Mirror

‘Blue Lightning, the final book in Ann Cleeves’

Shetland quartet, is also the best and the darkest. The setting is Fair Isle, full of birds and beauty, but, in Cleeves’ hands, deeply sinister’

The Times

‘The definitive detective thriller . . . The pace quickens and rises steadily to a thrilling and violent crescendo. The end is completely unpredictable and shocking . . . Beautifully crafted and exciting with a gripping storyline, this is a must for those who like their fiction mature and thoughtful and their authors intelligent and imaginative’

Sunday Express

RED BONES

‘Like a smoky Shetland peat fire, this elegantly written, slow-burning intrigue shrouds you in mystery and crackles with inner heat’

Peter James

‘Red Bones gives us plenty to chew on; an intricate plot, quirky characters and that special Shetland atmosphere, at once eerie and beautiful, that Ann Cleeves is making her own. Let’s hope she keeps on going through all the colours of the northern lights!’

Reginald Hill

‘Ann Cleeves’ fellow crime fiction practitioners (from Colin Dexter to Peter Robinson) have been lining up to sing her praises, and it’s unlikely that there will be any blip in that chorus of praise on the evidence of Red Bones, which is quite as assured and entertaining as its predecessors’

Barry Forshaw

‘Cunning character play and deception play their part in this satisfying tale, bringing about a denouement that turns everything in the plot neatly and bewilderingly on its head’

Scotsman

WHITE NIGHTS

‘White Nights is a pleasure to read. Interesting characters, great setting, intriguing plot, and nothing to turn the sensitive stomach! And the bonus when we finish it is that we know we’ve got two more to look forward to’

Reginald Hill

‘In true Agatha Christie style, Cleeves once again pulls the wool over our eyes with cunning and conviction’

Colin Dexter

‘A most satisfying mystery set in an isolated and intriguing location. Jimmy Perez is a fine creation, and I hope Ann Cleeves’ Shetland series will be with us for a long time to come’

Peter Robinson

‘Cleeves deftly paints in the personalities and their relationships, as the police inquiries disrupt the close-knit community. It’s a good, character-led mystery, which displays the art of storytelling without recourse to slash and grab’

Sunday Telegraph

‘A carefully constructed, atmospheric and interesting mystery’

Literary Review

RAVEN BLACK

‘Raven Black breaks the conventional mould of British crime-writing, while retaining the traditional virtues of strong narrative and careful plotting’