‘Straight home,’ she warned him.
‘Yes, Mum.’
Then she was gone. Rebus let the engine idle for a couple of minutes, then turned off the ignition and got out. The evening was bitter, felt like some sleet blowing in. He fastened his jacket, started whistling softly again, and began to follow her.
One side of the pavement was out of use altogether, as was the carriageway. Two uniforms were waiting at the door to one of the tenements, along with Christine Esson. Rebus stayed back until they’d gained entry to the building. When he got to the main door, it had locked itself again. None of the buzzers had names next to them, just flat numbers. Two key boxes had been affixed to the door frame, a sign that there were short-term lets on the stairwell. He tried a buzzer at random.
‘Fuck is it now?’ a hoarse male voice crackled from the tiny speaker.
‘Food delivery for your neighbour. They’re not answering.’
There was another muttered curse, but the door clicked open and Rebus was in. He could hear noises from above, a fist thumping at a door. Then Clarke’s voice: ‘Definitely the right flat?’
‘Well, he’s either comatose or not at home,’ a male voice replied. ‘Want us to wait or what?’
‘Could be anywhere between here and Corstorphine,’ Esson then said. Rebus heard the clatter of a letter-box flap being closed. He guessed Clarke had bent down to take a look. She had, after all, learned from the best. ‘Pubs will be open for a while yet,’ Esson was saying. ‘We could put out a description?’
Rebus had heard enough. He retraced his steps silently to the main door, pulled it open as stealthily as he could, and came face to face with Malcolm Fox. Fox eased his gloved hands into his coat pockets.
‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said.
‘I could say the same,’ Rebus countered. ‘But your bird has flown, so he won’t be going to any safe house with you tonight, DI Fox.’
‘Why am I not surprised you’re so well informed? Though that does beg the question as to how. Did Alan Fleck send you?’
‘No.’
‘But he’s a good friend of yours?’ Fox gave a smile as cold as the sleet hitting both men’s faces. ‘I’ve been getting myself better informed, too.’
The door behind them opened, Clarke’s face falling as she saw Rebus.
‘It’s making more sense all the time,’ Fox commented.
‘Straight home, you said.’ Clarke’s eyes remained on Rebus.
‘Curiosity got the better of me.’
Clarke turned her attention to Fox. ‘What brings you out this time of night?’
‘Same as you, I dare say.’
‘Not even close,’ Clarke informed him. ‘Haggard has breached his bail conditions, and now it looks like he might have done a runner.’
‘Stands to reason,’ Rebus said. ‘He’s bound to know custody awaits.’
Fox manoeuvred himself between Rebus and Clarke. ‘Is there any reason why we’re debating this in front of a civilian?’ he demanded, turning as the door opened again, Esson and the two uniforms emerging. Esson was just ending a call.
‘Word’s gone out,’ she assured Clarke. Then, recognising the other two figures, ‘Hello, John. Malcolm, long time.’
‘So do you need us to stick around?’ one of the uniforms asked as his radio squawked.
A window above them rattled open. ‘Any chance of moving the party on?’ a voice demanded, sliding it shut again. Rebus recognised the voice from the intercom.
Clarke gestured towards the two uniforms. ‘I want you back here every hour on the hour until your shift ends. You ring Haggard’s bell, you knock on his door. Whoever takes over from you, same schedule stays until I say so, understood?’
There were nods of agreement as the two young officers headed off towards their patrol car and a bit of warmth.
‘Is that us done?’ Esson asked, keen to get back home.
‘I need a lift,’ Clarke informed her.
‘I’m happy to...’ The look Clarke gave him made Rebus leave the sentence unfinished. She turned to Fox.
‘What are you doing here, Malcolm?’
‘My guess,’ Rebus butted in, ‘would be that Malky comprises a one-man snatch squad.’
‘More to the point, Siobhan,’ Fox countered, ‘is what you’re doing here with a civilian who’s been named this very day during an interview with an officer accused of domestic assault.’
‘The only name I heard during that interview was a retired sergeant called Fleck.’
‘You know as well as I do who else he was talking about, names or no names.’
‘How did you get hold of the interview?’
‘I thought I told you, I’m working directly for the assistant chief constable. That tends to open a few doors.’
‘It would help if you didn’t look so smug about it,’ Rebus said. ‘But then I’m guessing you look smug whether you’re brushing your teeth or taking a dump.’
Fox ignored him, focusing on Clarke instead. ‘He just gave you a lift here, didn’t he? Probably means you were at his flat. I find that all a bit too cosy. Correct me if I’m wrong.’
‘This is my case, not yours,’ Clarke stressed. She could sense Christine Esson stiffening slightly. ‘Our case, I mean.’
‘Christine’s case actually,’ Fox said. ‘You’d be nowhere near it if COVID hadn’t intervened. And I very much doubt Christine would have gone haring off to share news of what was said in a police interview. Christ, Haggard’s defence will have a field day.’
‘We didn’t talk about the case,’ Rebus interrupted.
Fox stared at him. ‘Do you think my head zips up the back?’
‘Makes it easier for your bosses to shovel their shit in.’
‘I think we’re in danger of losing sight of something here,’ Esson said, raising her voice. ‘Cheryl Haggard is a victim of domestic abuse. An hour or two ago her partner stormed into what should be a place of refuge. We need to protect her, and that means tracing him. Standing around here shouting the odds doesn’t seem to me to be helping much.’
‘Christine’s right,’ Clarke said. ‘Everything else can wait.’
‘Of course,’ Fox said with a slight dip of the head. Clarke gestured to Esson, and the two women began hurrying away. Esson seemed to be complaining about the non-delivery of a promised cake.
‘Plenty places open nearby,’ Fox told Rebus, rubbing his hands together. ‘A quiet drink and a chat, what do you say?’
‘I say whatever it is you think you’re going to accomplish here, you’re wildly mistaken.’
Fox studied him. ‘If this goes to court and Haggard tells his tale, that could end up bad news for people like your good friend Alan Fleck — him and anyone else in his orbit. Maybe you should think about that, John. Could even be some jail time waiting at the end of the process.’
‘You’d come visit, though, wouldn’t you?’
‘I think I might, yes.’ A smile spread across Fox’s face. ‘You never know, maybe I’d even enjoy it.’
Rebus took a step towards him.
‘Careful, John. Wouldn’t want your health taking a sudden turn for the worse. It’s already on a shoogly enough peg, from what I hear.’ Fox began to back away, turning his collar up. Rebus watched him go, the blood pounding in his ears.
6
Fraser Mackenzie was first to arrive at the restaurant. He liked it because the food was great and the tables nicely distanced. They kept the background music low, and the maître d’ always offered a complimentary glass of fizz. He’d been there only five minutes, kept busy with the wine list, when James Pelham approached across the restaurant floor, his usual large strides seeming to eat up the distance. He was chuckling by way of greeting and flung a hand out for Fraser to clasp.