‘Aye, maybe,’ Rebus said out loud.
Siobhan Clarke had once told him that he shared more with Cafferty than he liked to think. And maybe that was true. Could old men affect the world around them, play a part, still make their mark? The world itself might not want them, but sometimes that could make you all the more determined not to be shut out. You would be heard. You would be seen. Rebus was aware of how nobody looked at him twice these days as he walked down the street, queued to pay for a newspaper, stood at a bar waiting for his eye to be caught. He was nobody special, just one among multitudes. Sitting there in his Saab, he felt more than anonymous. He felt invisible.
Beth Mackenzie, on the other hand, drove into the car park as if launching an attack. Her cherry-red sports car was meant to be seen, as was the person who eventually climbed out. Make-up and hair immaculate; large sunglasses; a coat pretending to be an animal pelt; two-inch heels. She had tucked her rolled-up yoga mat under her arm. Having locked the car, she noticed Rebus walking towards her.
‘They have an off-peak rate for pensioners,’ she said, indicating the gym’s door. If she had noticed his bruised face, she wasn’t about to mention it.
‘No Gaby today?’
‘She doesn’t have my dedication. What the hell do you want, John?’
‘Why did you send Big Ger that photo?’
She removed her sunglasses and folded them. ‘Still harping on?’
‘Francis Haggard was one of the cops who turned him over that time.’
‘What?’
Rebus nodded. ‘Shinned up a drainpipe at the back of the building, threw the bags of cash down to his mates.’
‘I didn’t know.’ She blinked a few times, as if to digest the news.
‘You knew the story, though? The flat’s history?’
‘When Ger and me broke up, I stayed friends with some of his lads. They always liked to tell me things.’
‘Is that why you kept the wallpaper the way it was? If Cafferty ever had reason to see it, it would remind him?’
She considered for a moment, then took a deep breath. ‘I took Francis Haggard to look at the flat. He’d already told Fraser he was police, based at Tynecastle. I suppose it brought out the devil in me.’
‘You saw a chance to get Cafferty’s back up?’ Rebus watched her give a slow nod. ‘No love lost, eh? It’s some journey you’ve been on, Beth.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘From one gangster to another — no distance at all, really.’
‘The difference is,’ she said, baring her teeth, ‘one of them I made.’
‘Is that right?’
She had spun round and was starting to open the gym door.
‘Still got that photo on your phone?’ Rebus called out, causing her to pause. ‘Cafferty got rid of the print, denies ever having seen it. If you took it to Siobhan Clarke at Leith police station, told her you sent it to him, well, he’d have a bit of explaining to do. I mean, maybe you don’t want to cause him any additional grief...’ He gave an exaggerated shrug.
‘Siobhan Clarke?’ Beth checked, watching Rebus nod. Her hand went to the door handle again.
‘I saw Crosbie last night,’ Rebus added.
‘So?’
‘So the name obviously means something to you — interesting.’
Her head turned slowly towards him. ‘What’s interesting is that you think you’re smart. You’re really not. Crosbie works for Gaby, so of course I know him. I know lots of people, it comes with the territory.’
‘What else comes with the territory, Beth?’ But he ended up asking the question to a closed door, Mackenzie having disappeared inside. He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and stared down at his feet.
One of them I made.
One of them I made.
He knew those words would stay on a loop inside his head on the drive back into town.
26
Clarke had left Laura Smith propped up in bed with tea and iPad, earbuds in. She had placed the spare key on the duvet and told her to take things easy.
‘Are you kidding? I’ve got enough media requests to keep me busy till doomsday.’
On her way to Leith and the MIT, she phoned Ronnie Ogilvie.
‘I’m getting the road traffic CCTV in an hour or two,’ he told her. ‘Is Laura okay to answer a few questions?’
‘You might find yourself in a queue.’
‘I’m known for my sharp elbows.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Clarke ended the call just as she reached Leith. She parked by the links and headed into the police station. Christine Esson was already at her desk.
‘Laura Smith?’ she prompted Clarke.
‘You’ve heard, then.’
‘Ronnie told me. How’s she doing?’
‘She’s already working on how to turn a profit from it.’ Clarke sat down and made eye contact with Esson. ‘You’ve probably already worked out she’s behind the Courant, but what you don’t know is that James Pelham has been seen loitering outside her home.’
‘Because of the divorce photo?’
‘I assume so. What about those casinos — any luck?’
‘One says definitely no sign of Haggard on their security footage, and no staff remember seeing him. Four more are getting back to me later.’
‘Maybe give them another nudge?’
‘Liam and Noel are going to be phoning round the cab companies when they get here, see if any drivers remember picking him up from the tiki bar.’
They could hear voices climbing the stairs. A moment later, Trask and Fox walked in, both toting leather briefcases. Clarke noticed Fox studying his boss’s choice, which was a different design to his hard-shell. She would put money on him having ordered a similar model by day’s end. Trask stopped to ask for an update, which Esson provided. Satisfied, the DCI headed into her own office, leaving the door ajar. Fox placed his briefcase on his chair and approached Clarke’s desk.
‘Quiet night?’ he asked.
‘Lovely and quiet, up until someone chucked a petrol bomb into Laura Smith’s living room.’
His eyes widened slightly. ‘I hadn’t heard. Did we catch anyone for it?’
‘Not yet,’ Clarke said.
‘The price petrol is these days,’ Esson added, ‘we’re looking for someone with deep pockets.’
‘She’s by no means the first, is she?’ Fox said. ‘A dealer got hit at a caravan park yesterday.’
‘I hadn’t heard about that.’
‘You have now.’ He retreated to his own desk and started up his computer while Esson went to the kettle and switched it on.
‘Looks like you could use one,’ she told Clarke.
‘I hardly got a wink,’ Clarke admitted.
‘You honestly wouldn’t know it.’ Esson watched as Gamble and Leighton walked in, followed by King and Ritchie. Ritchie came up to her and offered to rinse the mugs.
‘Already done,’ she told him. ‘But there’s a juicy little quest waiting next to your computer. I’ll fill you in in a minute.’
‘Can’t wait.’ He was almost bouncing on his heels as he started towards his desk. King was already there and had read the note.