‘I know that, Josephine.’
She turned to Clarke. ‘And now he’s passing the baton to you, is that it? Or just bringing you on board?’
‘I wanted DI Clarke to understand why it matters,’ Fox answered her.
‘And I do,’ Clarke said quietly. She was about to add something, but when her phone pinged, she decided to check it. There was a text from Christine Esson on the screen. She frowned and locked eyes with Fox. ‘We maybe need to be going,’ she announced.
‘What’s up?’ he asked.
‘I’ll tell you on the way.’ Then, to the woman seated opposite, ‘A reckoning is coming, Josephine, I promise you that.’
The smile Kilgour gave was world-weary. Her eyes drifted towards the photos of her younger self. She was still staring at them as Clarke and Fox rose to their feet and started to leave.
‘So tell me,’ he said as they headed across town.
‘First of all, what was really going on back there?’
‘I just wanted you to—’
‘Yeah, but what was really going on?’
He was silent for a moment, pretending to concentrate on the traffic.
‘Professional Standards — my old stamping ground — are about to start recruiting. ACC Lyon asked for my input, and I told her I couldn’t think of anyone better.’
‘Than me?’
‘It’ll come with a promotion to DCI, and I think it’s a good fit for you.’
‘It also comes with pariah status.’
‘Temporary pariah status,’ he said with a thin smile. ‘The posting only lasts four or five years, but the promotion is permanent.’ He turned his head towards her. ‘When Jennifer Lyon knocks on your door, promise me you’ll look surprised.’
‘Christ’s sake, Malcolm...’ It was Clarke’s turn to fall silent and contemplate the world outside the Merc’s windscreen. ‘And this is the trade-off?’ she eventually said. ‘When I say yes, I repay you by keeping up the heat on Tynecastle?’
‘A small price to pay.’
She began to nod slowly. ‘Fleck really got to you, didn’t he?’
‘More than most.’
‘Why, though?’
‘Because he’s a virus,’ Fox stated. ‘And we all know what viruses can do.’ He signalled to turn at the approaching junction. ‘Now what was the message you got on your phone?’
‘It was from Christine. Fraser Mackenzie is at Leith.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we asked him to explain the rock-bottom rent Francis Haggard was being charged. Christine says he’s turned up with a lawyer. There being no one else in the office, the DCI said she’d sit in on the interview.’
‘And you’re not happy about that?’
‘I’d just rather I was there.’
Fox thought for a moment. ‘Can I tell you something in confidence?’
‘You can try.’
‘That bouncer outside the nightclub...’
‘The one they called C?’
‘Dickinson has him down for the caravan park attack. The Mackenzies are putting the frighteners on any and all competition.’
‘Makes sense.’
‘Dickinson wants it kept hush-hush for now. He trusted me, and now I’m trusting you.’
‘Noted.’
‘And the job offer?’
‘I’ll think about it.’ She glanced at the car’s speedometer. ‘You sure you don’t want to push it above twenty, just this one time?’
‘If you insist,’ Fox said, pressing down on the accelerator.
‘To work Professional Standards, don’t you need to be cleaner than clean?’
‘You’re clean enough.’
‘Despite past proximity to John Rebus?’
‘There were things you suspected and things you could have asked.’ Fox gave a shrug. ‘But nothing you should be beating yourself up about — unless you know different?’ His eyes were still on the road ahead. When Clarke decided the question didn’t really need answering, he seemed content enough.
By the time they’d parked and were approaching Leith police station, Fraser Mackenzie was leaving, accompanied by a silver-haired lawyer who looked both distinguished and expensive. Clarke and Fox climbed to the MIT office. Trask’s door was closed, Esson back at her desk.
‘So what did he say?’ Clarke demanded.
Esson stopped typing. ‘Apparently it’s a COVID thing. Anyone on the front line — NHS, police, you name it — merits a discount as a thank-you for everything they’ve done. I did ask who else had benefited from the offer, but he couldn’t immediately think of any examples. Nor is it public knowledge.’
‘A pack of lies, in other words.’ Clarke looked towards Trask’s door. ‘How did she do?’
‘She was frosty. Both Mackenzie and his solicitor commented on it. Any idea why?’
‘The word from Gartcosh is that Mackenzie’s taken over Cafferty’s operations.’ Clarke noticed the look Fox was giving her.
‘As few people as possible,’ he said, to remind her of Dickinson’s words. All three of them turned as Tess Leighton and George Gamble walked in.
‘Not every day you visit a casino and hit the jackpot,’ Leighton said, while Gamble, breathing heavily, knocked on the door of Trask’s office. A few seconds later, Trask emerged, her eyes on Fox and Clarke.
‘Where did you two get to?’
‘Just had to pop out,’ Clarke said. ‘Sorry you ended up having to interview Fraser Mackenzie.’
‘Working the shop floor does make a change.’ Trask saw that Gamble was bursting to say something. ‘Out with it then, George.’
‘We’ve got him on film,’ Gamble obliged, having dabbed his face with a handkerchief. ‘Seemed to be spending more on drink than at the actual tables. Took some cash out of a machine — even though the casino charges for the privilege — and eventually had to be spoken to by security.’
‘Oh?’
‘He was having trouble locking his knees,’ Tess Leighton continued. ‘Staff called him a cab. There’s footage of him outside as he’s poured into it.’
‘So we’ve got a licence plate?’
‘Till’s always uses the same firm. Just need to phone them and ask who was behind the wheel that day.’
Trask nodded. ‘This gets us a bit further along, but there are gaps we still need to fill.’ She had walked to the murder wall and was studying the timeline. ‘Do we have the security footage?’
‘It’s on its way,’ Gamble assured her.
‘Then in the meantime, feel free to follow up with the cab company. And find out what’s taking Colin and Jason so long.’ She crooked a finger in Fox’s direction. ‘Malcolm, my office.’
Fox followed her in and closed the door, content to stay standing though she gestured towards a chair before sitting down across from him.
‘So where were you?’ she asked.
‘Brainstorming,’ he answered. ‘Thought getting out of the office for a breath of air might help.’
‘And did it?’
‘Not especially.’ He paused. ‘Was it wise to sit in on the interview with Fraser Mackenzie?’
‘Why?’
‘Geoff Dickinson seemed to think it was important Mackenzie not realise we’re on to him.’
She leaned a little further back in her chair and studied him. ‘This is first and foremost a murder inquiry. We owe it to Francis Haggard and his widow not to forget that.’
‘Absolutely, ma’am.’
‘Good. Now get the hell out of my office and try to avoid wandering off again.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Fox said. As he left, he thought to himself: that was twice he’d used the term ‘ma’am’ and twice she hadn’t said to call her Kathy. Seemed the honeymoon was over.