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‘Has the weapon been found?’ he asked, not really interested in the answer.

‘Teams are out and about just now.’

‘Who’s leading the MIT?’

‘No idea.’

‘Could it be Siobhan?’

‘Is there any reason you’re asking me rather than her?’

‘You’re far more charming and approachable. Still traipsing down to Anfield for the occasional match?’

‘I need to be getting back to work, John.’

‘Hint taken. Thanks for the tour.’ Rebus peered into the other rooms: galley-style kitchen, bathroom, three bedrooms. ‘Bit excessive for one person, no?’

‘I had the same thought. Plus the fixtures and furnishings are a cut above. Only oddity is that wallpaper in the living room. I saw that you noticed it too. Pretty antiquated, I’d say.’

‘Anyone from the lettings agency been for a look?’

‘Not as far as I know.’

‘They will.’ Rebus winked and shook Atwal’s hand. ‘Thanks again,’ he said, turning to go.

But Atwal insisted on accompanying him to the ground floor, helping him remove his protective suit.

‘I really am leaving,’ Rebus assured him.

‘I trust you implicitly, John,’ Atwal answered, ‘but all the same...’

As they stepped outside, they saw that an argument was taking place at the cordon. Rebus offered Atwal another wink. ‘Told you,’ he said.

Fraser Mackenzie recognised him and broke off from remonstrating with the officer on guard duty, pointing a finger at Rebus instead.

‘How come you get to be that side of the tape? It’s my bloody property!’

‘The whole tenement?’ Rebus asked.

‘Two flats, but they’re among my best.’

‘Probably in demand, then?’ He pretended to muse.

‘Always.’

‘Francis Haggard seemed to have acquired his at short notice.’

‘It was available.’

‘Lot of space for a single tenant. You knew he was police?’

‘What does it matter?’

‘Not only police, but suspended from duty and charged with slapping his wife about.’

Mackenzie tried to compose himself. ‘I had no idea. And you still haven’t answered my question.’ He shifted focus to Haj Atwal. ‘Surely the owner of the property is allowed to gain entry? To size up any redecoration that’ll need doing.’

‘You got off lightly, Mr Mackenzie,’ Rebus answered. ‘Shouldn’t need much more than Tommy Oram and some elbow grease.’ He lifted the tape and stepped to Mackenzie’s side of it, resting his eyes on Atwal. ‘Your choice if you let him through or not, Haj. I wouldn’t.’

He strode off in the direction of Leith Links and his car. He hadn’t got far when he heard Mackenzie behind him.

‘What are you doing here? What has any of this got to do with Jack Oram?’

Rebus stopped and turned to face him. ‘You tell me.’

‘What is there to tell?’

‘Do you often do favours for police officers, Mr Mackenzie? Or maybe just for ones based at Tynecastle? Is that something else you acquired from Cafferty?’

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘The flat you put Haggard in, it belonged to Cafferty before you, yes?’

‘It was part of the original portfolio,’ Mackenzie agreed.

Rebus had caught a glimpse of someone in the distance, over Mackenzie’s shoulder. The man turned a corner and was gone while he was still trying to focus. Same build and hair as Cafferty’s helper Andrew. Rebus brushed past Mackenzie and headed to the end of the street, but whoever it was had vanished. Now Mackenzie was coming towards him.

‘Maybe a phone call to my lawyer will get me past that cordon,’ he was saying. He had the device in his hand and was already dabbing at it with a finger.

‘Interesting choice of decor,’ Rebus said. ‘The living room wallpaper, I mean.’

‘Beth’s department,’ Mackenzie commented.

‘Judging by the state of your office,’ Rebus added, ‘that’s probably no bad thing.’

He was almost back at the Saab when he changed his mind and began walking towards Leith police station instead. He stood across the street from the building and took out his phone, wondering how much to tell Siobhan. His call wasn’t answered, but thirty seconds later, a text arrived.

Bit busy here. I suppose you’ve heard.

Changes things a bit, Rebus messaged back. Please tell me Fox isn’t in charge.

He had to wait only a few moments for her reply.

Not quite.

He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. He decided he would try to catch up with her properly later in the day. Instead, as he walked to his car, he called Cafferty.

‘News?’ Cafferty barked when he answered.

‘A question,’ Rebus said.

‘Fire away.’

‘That photo on your table, the one showing a man in a living room...’

‘Snooping behind my back, Strawman?’

Strawman — Cafferty’s nickname for him. It usually meant Rebus had drilled into a nerve.

‘It came in one of your own envelopes — MGC Lettings. Since sold to Fraser Mackenzie. The flat in the shot belongs to him, too. Very distinctive wallpaper.’

‘So?’

‘So why send it to you?’

‘Who the hell knows?’

‘Have you asked?’

‘What’s this all about?

‘You’ve not heard about the murder on Constitution Street? In one of the flats run by QC Lettings? Rented out to the victim, who happened to be a cop?’

‘Anyone we know?’

‘In a manner of speaking. He’s one of the Crew, or was until he was suspended from duty.’

‘The abusive husband?’

‘Looks to me like someone sent a picture of him to you, and now he’s on a mortuary slab.’

‘You sure it’s him in the picture?’

‘I dare say the inquiry team will want to check.’

‘What the hell is this? You trying to stir up shit?’

‘Where you’re concerned, there’s never a spoon far away.’

‘This has got the square root of nada to do with me.’

‘You might want to tell the inquiry that.’ Rebus paused. ‘So what have you done about it?’

‘The photo? Not a damned thing.’

‘Mind if I ask why?’

‘I do mind, yes. You’re not CID any longer, Strawman. I think sometimes you forget that.’

It took Rebus a moment to realise that Cafferty had rung off. Sitting in his Saab, he texted Clarke again.

The murder flat is owned by QC Lettings. I’ve had dealings with them about Jack Oram. Could there be a connection?

She called him back almost immediately.

‘What sort of connection?’ she demanded.

‘As of right now, I’ve no idea. But there’s something else.’

He heard her sigh. ‘What?’

‘Has to be done face to face, Siobhan.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it does.’

She considered for a moment. ‘I can drop by the flat this evening.’

‘Yes, you could. On the other hand, I can be with you inside of a minute. And back when I was working cases, we didn’t let a gift horse go to waste.’

It took her a few moments to decide. ‘I’ll meet you at the front desk,’ she said.

14

True to her word, she was waiting for him inside the police station’s front door.