‘His watch, Siobhan, not mine. You parked outside the flat?’
‘More or less.’
‘Walk back with us, then. Here, you can take charge of Brillo.’
‘What for?’
‘It’s what detectives do, isn’t it? Follow leads?’
Clarke gave a groan, but she couldn’t help grinning too. It felt like the first time she’d cracked a genuine smile all day.
‘Mr Cafferty’s up on the roof terrace,’ Andrew told Rebus as he opened the door to him. Rebus nodded and made show of spreading his legs and arms, but Andrew shook his head. ‘You’re no longer perceived as a threat.’
‘You might want to reconsider that,’ Rebus said. Then, ‘What were you doing down Constitution Street?’
‘What do you mean?’
He affected a shrug. ‘Thought I saw you there. Just wasn’t sure if it was me or Fraser Mackenzie you were interested in.’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Must be a case of mistaken identity.’ Rebus met the taller man’s eyes. ‘But if it was you and you were trying not to be seen, you need to sharpen up. Same goes for that stunt you and your boss pulled with DI Clarke and her team. Haven’t seen me in weeks and reckon I must be going senile? I’m guessing the security cameras in the concierge office will tell a different story. If you’re going to lie to a murder inquiry, it has to be watertight. Wee tip for you there.’ He patted Andrew’s shoulder. ‘Now let’s go see the cripple before he turns into Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining.’
The roof terrace stretched the length and width of the building, hemmed in by waist-high glass panels and accessed by a glass-walled stairwell that had been fitted with a stairlift.
‘Mr Cafferty says you can use it if you like,’ Andrew commented as they passed the machine.
Rebus took each subsequent step with more determination. He patted his jacket pocket, making sure he had his inhaler, before stepping out onto the roof into something not far short of a gale. A few contemporary sculptures and a lot of potted plants had been added to the space. The plants looked lifeless, hunkered down until spring. Rebus was tempted to join them, but instead he zipped his jacket up to the chin and hid his hands inside the sleeves.
Cafferty was in a portable wheelchair rather than his electric. He sat at the very centre of the terrace. Rebus did a slow turn, the city and its rooftops spread out around him.
‘Impressive, no?’ Cafferty said. His mittened hands were pressed down against the tartan travel rug covering his lap and legs, stopping it from flying away. He wore a plain maroon beanie on his head and a scarf of the same colour around his neck. The only lighting was at floor level, so that his face remained largely in shadow.
‘How many days a year can you come up here, though?’ Rebus queried. ‘Without the fear of hypothermia, I mean?’
‘I told them there’s no picture,’ Cafferty stated, his eyes on the view eastwards towards the university and the dark hump of Arthur’s Seat.
‘I was just telling Andrew how stupid that was.’
‘Maybe so, but I like my business to remain my business.’
‘So you’ve worked out what the photo means?’
‘Enquiries are ongoing, as you might say.’ Cafferty’s gaze drifted towards Andrew for a moment. Rebus looked too. Andrew had taken up position by the top of the stairs. He was a decent distance away, but Rebus reckoned he’d still be able to hear every word. Cafferty turned his attention back to Rebus. ‘So what’s got you so het up that we needed to meet?’
‘Apart from my annoyance at you saying I’ve got dementia?’
‘Ageing is a cruel process, no shame in starting to forget things.’
‘One thing I did forget — but it came back to me — is that you and Elizabeth Mackenzie used to be an item.’
‘For about five minutes.’
‘A bit longer than that, I think. Then along comes the bold Fraser and sweeps her off her feet.’
‘Water under the bridge.’
‘Twenty years’ worth of water.’
‘Are you coming to a point any time soon?’
‘You still sold the agency to him.’
‘I’ve never let the personal get in the way of business. And I still don’t see what it has to do with the little job I gave you.’
‘No? When the first thing you handed me was QC Lettings?’ Rebus made show of studying the vista again. ‘City like this,’ he said, ‘things tend to connect, visible or not. You connect to Elizabeth Mackenzie, her daughter knows Jack Oram’s son, Jack Oram connects back to you.’
Cafferty stared at him. ‘Are you going to find Jack Oram or not? Seems to me you’re sticking your nose into everything but.’
‘If he’s not done another runner, I’ll find him. His son seems to think that’s what happened.’ He paused. ‘But I’m not at all sure I’ll hand him over to you.’
Cafferty stretched out a hand, palm up. ‘Then give me back my money.’
‘Why were you sent that photograph, Cafferty? And what are you doing about it?’ He watched Cafferty shake his head. ‘A cop killed in cold blood in a flat you used to own — a photo of the victim sent to you, either to taunt you or to alert you to where you could find him. No details, but a patch of wallpaper they knew you’d recognise. You had dozens, maybe even hundreds of flats on your books. Unlikely you’d remember all of them. Somehow you were expected to recall that one, though. And how about Francis Haggard himself? Don’t tell me the two of you never met back in the days when you were passing weekly brown envelopes across to Tynecastle?’
Cafferty’s face had grown stonier, his jaw clenched. He managed to loosen it, angling his head so he could make eye contact with Andrew.
‘Take this bastard downstairs — and keep an eye on him until he’s out the door. Then get your arse back here pronto so I can go indoors and start thawing out.’
Rebus stared at him a moment longer, knowing there’d be no more conversation. ‘You’re not getting that money back,’ he said. ‘And I’ll keep on digging — to get the answers I want rather than whatever it is you’re after.’ He could sense Andrew standing behind him. ‘Another hour or two up here and you’d be doing the world a favour,’ he added.
In place of an answer, Andrew took him by the arm and started marshalling him towards the stairwell. As they passed through the living area, Rebus wrenched himself free and headed for the coffee table. He got there three seconds before his minder. The grip on his arm was tighter this time as it steered him to the front door. Rebus was content to let it happen. He’d seen what he’d expected to see.
Both the photograph and the envelope it had come in were gone.
Day Five
16
As Clarke entered the MIT office, she saw that Trask was hovering by her desk. When she spotted Clarke, the DCI stomped towards her, guiding her back into the corridor.
‘You’re late.’
‘Maybe five minutes — I was here till almost ten last night.’ Clarke saw that they were heading in the direction of the two interview rooms. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Not enough space in my office,’ Trask said, pulling open the door to IV2. Two men were seated within. Clarke recognised Fox, but not the other. They could have been cut from the same cloth, though. She knew Gartcosh when she saw it. The man she didn’t know rose to his feet and offered his chair, there being only three in the room. But Trask waved his offer aside and nodded for Clarke to take the one remaining seat while she stayed on her feet.