‘I know we had a sort of gentleman’s agreement, Matty,’ Rebus said.
‘But I’m about to find out you’re no gentleman?’
Rebus smiled. ‘You’re ahead of me.’
‘I wondered how long it would take.’ Matty paused, stared through the windscreen. ‘You know I’ll say no.’
‘Will you?’
‘I said at the start, no ratting on anyone I work with or work for. Just the punters.’
‘Not even many of them. It’s not like I’ve been milking you, Matty. I’ll bet you’ve dozens of stories you haven’t told me.’
‘I work tables, Mr Rebus. People don’t place a bet and then start yacking about some job they’ve pulled or some scam they’re running.’
‘No, but they meet friends. They have a drink, get mellow. It’s a relaxing place, so I’ve heard. And maybe then they talk.’
‘I’ve not held anything back.’
‘Matty, Matty.’ Rebus shook his head. ‘It’s funny, I was just thinking tonight about that night we met. Do you remember?’
How could he forget? A couple of drinks after work, a car borrowed from a friend who was away on holiday. Matty hadn’t been back long. Driving through the town was great, especially with a buzz on. Streets glistening after the rain. Late night, mostly taxis for company. He just drove and drove and, as the streets grew quieter, he pushed the accelerator a bit further, caught a string of green lights, then saw one turning red. He didn’t know how good the tyres were, imagined braking hard and skidding in the wet. Fuck it, he put his foot down.
Just missed the cyclist. The guy was coming through on green and had to twist his front wheel hard to avoid contact, then teetered and fell on to the road. Matty’s foot eased off the accelerator, thought about the brake, then went back on the accelerator again.
That’s when he saw the cop car. And thought: I can’t afford this.
They’d breathalysed him and taken him to St Leonard’s, where he’d sat around and let the machinery chew him up. Would it come to a trial? Would there be a report in the papers? How could he keep his name from getting around? He’d worked himself up into a right state by the time Detective Inspector John Rebus had sat down across from him.
‘I can’t afford this,’ Matty had blurted out.
‘Sorry?’
He’d swallowed and tried to find a story. ‘I work in a casino. Any black mark against me, they’ll boot me out. Look, if it’s a question of compensation or anything… like, I’ll buy him a new bike.’
Rebus had picked up a sheet of paper. ‘Drunk driving… in a borrowed car you weren’t insured to drive… running a red light… leaving the scene of an accident… ’ Rebus had shaken his head, read the sheet through one more time and then put it down, and looked up at Matty. ‘What casino did you say you work for?’
Later, he’d given Matty two business cards, both with his phone number. ‘The first one’s for you to tear up in disgust,’ he’d said. ‘The other one’s to keep. Have we got a deal?’
‘Look, Mr Rebus,’ Matty said now, as the car stopped for lights on Raeburn Place, ‘I’m doing the best I can.’
‘I want to know what’s happening behind the scenes at the Morvena.’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘Anything at all, it doesn’t matter how small it seems. Any stories, gossip, anything overheard. Ever seen the owner entertain people in his office? Maybe open the place for a private party? Names, faces, anything at all. Put your mind to it, Matty. Just put your mind to it.’
‘They’d skin me alive.’
‘Who’s they?’
Matty swallowed. ‘Mr Mandelson.’
‘He’s the owner, right?’
‘Right.’
‘On paper at least. What I need to know is who might be pulling his strings.’
‘I can’t see anyone pulling his strings.’
‘You’d be surprised. Hard bastard, is he?’
‘I’d say so.’
‘Given you grief?’ Matty shook his head. ‘Do you see much of him?’
‘Not much,’ Matty said. Not, he might have added, until recently at any rate.
Rebus dropped him at the foot of Broughton Street, headed back up to Leith Walk and along York Place on to Queen Street. He passed the casino again and slowed, a frown on his face. At the next set of lights, he did a U-turn so he could be sure. Yes, it was the Roller from Gaitanos, no doubt about it.
Parked outside the Morvena.
Six
‘Mind if I join you?’
Rebus was eating breakfast in the canteen and wishing there was more caffeine in the coffee, or more coffee in the coffee come to that. He nodded to the empty chair and Siobhan sat down.
‘Heavy night?’ she said.
‘Believe it or not, I was on orange juice.’
She bit into her muffin, washing it down with milk. ‘Harry tells me you had him working a tape.’
‘Harry?’
‘Our video wizard. He said it was a missing person. News to me.’
‘It’s not official. The son of an old schoolfriend of mine.’
‘Standing at a bar one minute and gone the next?’ Rebus looked at her and she smiled. ‘Harry’s a great one for gossip.’
‘I’m working on it in my own time.’
‘Need any help?’
‘Handy with a crystal ball, are you?’ But Rebus dug into his pocket and brought out the still from the video. ‘That’s Damon there,’ he said, pointing.
‘Who’s that with him?’
‘I wish I knew. She’s not with him. I don’t know who she is.’
‘You’ve asked around?’
‘I was at the club last night. A few punters remembered her.’
‘Male punters?’ She waited till Rebus nodded. ‘You were asking the wrong sex. Any man would have given her the once-over, but only superficially. A woman, on the other hand, would have seen her as competition. Have you never noticed women in nightclubs? They’ve got eyes like lasers. Plus, what if she visited the loo?’
Rebus was interested now. ‘What if she did?’
‘ That’s where women talk. Maybe someone spoke to her, maybe she said something back. Ears would have been listening.’ Siobhan stared at the photo. ‘Funny, it’s almost like she’s got an aura.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Like she’s shining.’
‘Interior light.’
‘Exactly.’
‘No, that’s what your friend Harry said. It’s the interior lighting that gives that effect.’
‘Maybe he didn’t know what he was saying.’
‘I’m not sure I know what you’re saying.’
‘Some religions believe in spirit guides. They’re supposed to lead you to the next world.’
‘You mean this one’s not the end?’
She smiled. ‘Depends on your religion.’
‘Well, it’s plenty enough for me.’ He looked at the photo again.
‘I was sort of joking, you know, about her being a spirit guide.’
‘I know.’
He met with Helen Cousins that night. They spoke over a drink in the Auld Hoose. Rebus hadn’t been in the place in quarter of a century, and there’d been changes. They’d installed a pool table.
‘You weren’t invited along that night?’ Rebus asked her.
She shook her head. She was twenty, three years younger than Damon. The fingers of her right hand played with her engagement ring, rolling it, sliding it off over the knuckle and then back down again. She had short, lifeless brown hair, dark, tired eyes, and acne around her mouth.
‘I was out with the girls. See, that was how we played it. One night a week the boys would go off on their own, and we’d go somewhere else. Then another night we’d all get together.’
‘Do you know anyone who was at Gaitanos that night? Apart from Damon and his pals?’
She chewed her bottom lip while considering. The ring came off her finger and bounced once before hitting the floor. She stooped to pick it up.
‘It’s always doing that.’
‘You better watch it, you’re going to lose it.’