‘So the story you’re trying to foist on me is that he was murdered in cold blood because of his interest in a Second World War internment camp? That makes more sense to you than a personal grudge, a falling-out or a robbery?’
Rebus jabbed a finger towards Creasey. ‘Are you pinning this on my daughter?’
‘We’re keeping an open mind.’
‘Who else have you got? Jess Hawkins?’
‘Why him especially?’ Creasey sounded genuinely interested.
‘Because his Jim Jones Brigadoon cult is practically next door to Camp 1033.’
‘And?’
‘And he or one of his minions could have decided it was the only way to deliver Samantha to the cause.’
The two men stared at one another in silence for a moment. Rebus exhaled noisily and ran his hand through his hair.
‘I don’t know, Robin. I really don’t.’
‘Where does Lord Strathy fit into your theories?’
Rebus shook his head. ‘A favour for an ex-colleague in Edinburgh.’
‘This guy Fox?’
‘Not him, no. You know Strathy owns a lot of the land around here, including Camp 1033 and Hawkins’ commune?’
Creasey raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure I did know that.’
‘Keith wanted the community to buy the land the camp’s on, turn it into a visitor attraction.’
‘And?’
‘And now his lordship seems to have dropped off everyone’s radar.’
Creasey looked a bit more interested. ‘Since when?’
‘Good question. I’m not really sure. But my gut tells me the gardener at the castle — guy by the name of Colin Belkin — might once not have been such good friends with cops.’
‘He’s got a record?’
‘Worth a bit of digging, I’d say.’
Creasey worked his jaw as he did some calculations. ‘My team’s pretty stretched as it is...’
‘They all stuck in that Portakabin?’
‘We’ve got the use of the police station in Tongue — just as soon as we track down whoever has the key so we can unlock it.’
‘I could always lend a hand if you’re short of bodies.’
‘Nice try, John, but... well, you know damned fine what I’m going to say.’
‘I should butt out, go home, keep out of your hair — something along those lines?’
‘You should be focusing on Samantha and Carrie — they need you a lot more than the dead do.’ Creasey studied his watch.
‘Don’t let me keep you.’
‘I’ve got a thing in Inverness tonight. Need to get going.’
‘Had a chance to check my prints against those found in the Volvo?’
‘Yours, mine, Samantha’s and Keith’s. Plus a child’s partials that we’re guessing belong to your granddaughter.’ Creasey paused. ‘You know Samantha visited Hawkins’ place the day Keith died? Don’t bother answering — I can see the answer on your face. Does that sound to you like her fling with the man was over?’
‘You’re not having her, Creasey. No way I’m letting that happen.’
Creasey stared at him. ‘Nothing I’ve said has made a blind bit of difference, has it?’
‘I can assure you I’ve taken it on board.’
The slow shake of the head the detective gave in response told Rebus he wasn’t fooled. He watched as Creasey crossed the road to his car and climbed in. The door to the bar opened and Jimmy Hess emerged.
‘Best be off,’ he said, shrugging himself into his fleece.
‘Thank you for coming. I hope your grandfather perks up soon.’
‘He’s ninety-three years old. I doubt perking up is on the cards.’
‘But his faculties are intact — enough for Keith to have put a few questions to him?’
‘The pair of them talked. Not sure my grandad was much help. His memory’s not what it was, and it was such a long time ago.’
‘I wouldn’t mind a word with him at some point.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Who looks after him, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘Just me. We manage for the most part.’
‘Must be tough when you’re at work.’
Jimmy Hess’s face darkened a little. ‘I packed in my job so I could be more help. Part and parcel of being a family, eh?’ He looked up towards the gathering dusk. ‘You never know what’s round the next corner.’ He slipped the hood of his fleece over his head and began to walk.
After a moment or two, Rebus headed indoors. Joe Collins was napping at the table, hands resting in his lap. Music was playing through the speakers, but only just audibly. The bar was back to regulars again. The media had moved on; ditto the ghouls. Rebus hoisted himself onto one of the bar stools.
‘What’ll it be?’ May Collins asked.
‘Coffee, strong as you can make it.’
‘Bed not comfy last night?’
‘Brain wouldn’t switch off.’
‘You sure coffee’s the answer?’
‘I don’t know, May — what was the question again?’
She was laughing as she headed to the machine.
19
The Jenever Club hadn’t quite opened for the evening, but its door was unlocked, which was why Dennis Jones was able to walk in and demand to see Morris Cafferty.
‘People usually call me Big Ger,’ a voice barked from the mezzanine level.
Jones took the stairs two at a time. He had a large frame and still considered himself fit. Played badminton and squash. He’d been partnered with a colleague, Gillian Bowness, for a varsity doubles competition. That had been the beginning of his trouble.
Cafferty was seated at the last banquette along. He was on his own, and was folding closed the screen of his computer as Jones approached.
‘Take a seat,’ he said, ‘and tell me what’s on your mind.’
‘I think you already know.’ Jones was breathing hard, powered by adrenalin.
‘Does your wife know you’re here?’
‘All she told me was that someone had footage. Had to come from here, so I did a bit of digging. Didn’t take much in the way of detective skills.’
‘And now here you are, so what exactly is it I can do for you?’
‘I won’t let you do this to her.’
‘Who?’
‘Jenni.’
‘I assume you mean Assistant Chief Constable Lyon? What did she say to you?’
‘Just that she was fixing it and I wasn’t to worry. But if fixing it means dealing with trash like you...’
‘You’d rather it was all made nice and public?’ Cafferty gave the beginnings of a chuckle, stopping as he saw Jones’s hands forming themselves into fists. ‘Don’t do anything radically more stupid than you already have. Now sit down while I tell you something I haven’t yet told your good lady.’
He bided his time until Jones bent to his will and slid onto the banquette.
‘The footage we caught of you here is tame stuff — a smooch and a snog, a bit of powder up the nose. You should see what sometimes goes on. But I pride myself on knowing who’s who. Your uni job didn’t interest me, but your life partner did.’ He paused. ‘Which is why I had someone keep an eye on you for a week or two. That country park near your place of work — a beautiful spot and woefully under-used. Car park’s often completely empty...’ He was watching the effect his words were having. Dennis Jones began visibly to deflate. ‘Bit reckless really, don’t you think? Though I did admire your friend’s agility. Must be all that badminton.’ He paused again. ‘I can’t be sure what you told the missus, but pictures like that on the front page of a red-top... well, that’s a marriage killer right there.’
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. ‘This isn’t about you, Dennis. I doubt Jenni’s too bothered about you and your career. Hers, on the other hand...’ He leaned back again. ‘How do you think she’d react if she knew you’d come here? I’ll tell you: she’d be apoplectic, because you’re in danger of royally pissing me off. One call to the media, one email attachment, and she’s all over the papers. So while I can quite understand the macho posturing, it’s time for you to slope off home and leave your wife to deal with the shitty nappy you’ve left on her pristine floor.’