Blue Lightning by Ann Cleeves

and the privileged knowledge of their domestic affairs. It was the enjoyment that was the problem for her: she’d find it acceptable if he considered it a duty and a chore. She wondered if that was all she was to him. An interesting specimen and someone else to investigate. Then he caught her eye and smiled at her, a brief flash of affection. She saw him as she’d seen him first – the dark, untidy hair, the tired eyes. She felt a deep and inappropriate moment of lust and thought everything would probably be all right.
    Outside in the lobby the phone rang. She sensed Perez tense. ‘It won’t be for you, surely,’ she said. ‘Work would use your mobile.’
    ‘Angela was a bit of a media star. I’m worried Maurice and Poppy Parry will start being hassled by reporters once the news gets out.’
    He opened the bird room door, but came back when he realized Ben was already answering. He left the door ajar and they stood quietly so they could overhear the assistant warden’s side of the conversation. As soon as he realized the conversation was about birds, some rare swan, Perez turned away.
    ‘Have you recorded this?’ He nodded to a pile of books and papers on the desk. ‘It all seems a bit random. What do you think she was doing?’
    ‘Maybe it isn’t related at all. Could be stuff she’s been working on over the past few weeks and just hasn’t put away yet. It seems she was hardly obsessively tidy.’
    Fran took a photograph of a book that was lying face down, close to one long hand. The book had been written by Angela Moore and there was a photo of the woman, the trademark hair clipped away from her face, on the back jacket. ‘ On the trail of the slender-billed curlew ,’ Fran read from the blurb. ‘ The species everyone thought was extinct, rediscovered on the silk trail of Uzbekistan. A modern tale of adventure and exploration .’ She looked up at Perez. ‘Didn’t they make a television series about that?’
    He looked up briefly. ‘Yes, it was the first programme to make her famous. She led the expedition into the desert and found a small number of the birds. Soon after the series was broadcast she moved here to Fair Isle. It caused a bit of a stir on the island, having someone who was almost a celebrity moving in.’
    ‘Why would she want to read her own book?’
    ‘I’m not sure.’ He straightened up and considered the matter seriously. ‘Perhaps she was writing an article and wanted to check a fact. Or perhaps she just wanted to cheer herself up. It was her moment of glory, after all.’
    He went back to his methodical investigation of the papers on the desk, carefully marking the page where the book had been opened, before adding it to the black bin bag.
    Outside in the lobby, they heard the ring that showed the phone had been replaced and there was a sudden flurry of activity. Ben Catchpole was shouting something unintelligible up the stairs and they heard running footsteps, the sound of the Land Rover being started. Through the window they saw the youngest of the visiting birdwatchers running across the yard and out onto the hill.
    ‘What’s all that about?’ Fran thought it sounded urgent and wondered why Perez was being so relaxed. ‘Shouldn’t we go and find out?’
    He looked up briefly from sorting through a bunch of printed papers. ‘It’ll be a rare bird,’ he said. ‘It happens all the time. I told you, they’re kind of obsessed.’
    Big James came to the North Light to help Perez move Angela’s body into the lorry. Fran was relieved. All the time she was taking photographs she’d been wondering how she and Jimmy would manage to roll the woman in the polythene and carry her outside. She didn’t have much strength and imagined spilling Angela on the grass among the sheep droppings and rabbit holes, the indignity of a farcical pantomime trying to manoeuvre her into the back of the lorry. At least with the field centre empty of guests and Maurice and Poppy hidden away in