‘You didn’t want anyone making the connection?’
‘There wasn’t any connection, but you’re right — wouldn’t have stopped people trying.’
‘Which film was this?’
‘Some zombie flick with kilts and claymores.’
‘Siobhan Clarke just watched the DVD of that. You know Bloom actually appears in it? Him and his boyfriend both.’
‘News to me. I’ve probably got a copy here somewhere.’
Rebus looked towards the TV. There was no DVD player. ‘Nothing to play it on, though.’
‘Why would I? It was a pile of shite.’
‘Did Ness ever ask you for help other than financial?’
‘Against Adrian Brand, you mean? Like I said back then, I had nothing to do with that.’
‘Doesn’t quite answer my question.’
‘Maybe he asked and maybe I said no.’
‘You were scared of Conor Maloney?’
Cafferty gave a snort. ‘You know me better than that, John.’
‘If that golf course had gone ahead, with Maloney and his paramilitary money involved, wouldn’t that have been seen as the first step?’
‘Towards him pushing into Edinburgh?’ Cafferty brushed the notion aside.
‘How did Maloney get friendly with Brand anyway?’
‘Some golf course in Ireland. They both owned a share. Country club type thing, that’s what Brand wanted to bring to Scotland.’
‘How did it feel when he went to Maloney rather than you?’
‘It’s ancient history, John. An archive’s the place for it.’
‘How did you feel, though? If not threatened exactly, then maybe pissed off at the snub, at the lack of respect it showed?’
Cafferty made a show of yawning. ‘I’m beginning to think it’s too early in the day for decaf, and way too late in the day for this little chat.’ He pushed back his chair and rose slowly to his full height. ‘Besides, I’ve got things to do, and you’ve probably got a dog to walk.’
On the TV, Catherine Bloom was no longer making her speech. Instead, aerial footage of Poretoun Woods was playing, with an old photograph of Stuart Bloom in the top right corner of the screen.
‘Ness wanted me to buy that place, you know,’ Cafferty commented. ‘Sticking point was, I had to carry on with the upgrading of both house and woods. He had it all planned out, and I had to sign up to every last bit of it.’
‘So you’ve been to Poretoun House?’
‘Not since it was sold.’
‘And the woods, too?’
‘Just the one day — I watched a bit of the filming. The acting wasn’t up to much, but give Jackie his due, he always found some very pretty faces to point his camera at.’
‘I know — we interviewed a slew of them.’
‘Not with enough rigour to keep Madam Bloom happy.’ Cafferty’s eyes were on the TV again, though the story had changed to politics. ‘One thing I see the new inquiry’s keeping to itself,’ he mused.
‘What’s that?’
‘Bloom was wearing handcuffs.’
‘And how could you possibly know that?’
Cafferty fixed Rebus with a look. ‘Some of us are still in the game, John. Police issue, were they?’
‘They’re still being tested. Who have you got on the inside?’
‘More to the point, how come you know about the handcuffs? Siobhan been whispering in your ear? That counts as a leak, I’d say, especially when the person she’s leaking to was part of the original case and might yet be a suspect.’
‘Handcuffs could have come from anywhere. I dare say you or your pal Maloney would have known where to find some.’
‘Few quid to the right cop,’ Cafferty agreed. ‘Plenty of them on the take in 2006. Then there are people like your old boss Bill Rawlston — good friend of Adrian Brand’s back in the day, used to be on his table at the odd charity event. Not forgetting the deceased’s boyfriend’s dad — a pal of yours, I seem to remember.’
‘Anyone else you want to add?’
Cafferty pretended to think. Rebus decided not to wait for a reply.
‘Brian Steele and Grant Edwards,’ he stated. ‘They did a bit of work for Brand — and for you.’
‘For me?’
Rebus nodded, his eyes locked on Cafferty’s. ‘Don’t think I don’t know.’
‘And what is it you think you know?’
‘You met with Conor Maloney one time, not long before Stuart Bloom went missing. Took Steele and Edwards along as muscle.’
‘Just Steele, actually.’ Cafferty thought for a moment. ‘Your pal in Glasgow CID? Makes sense they’d have Maloney on their radar.’
‘From the moment his plane touched down in Glasgow,’ Rebus acknowledged. ‘Steele was in uniform back then, which means he’d have carried handcuffs as a matter of course.’
‘The day he was with me, he was in a nice sharp suit — I remember being a bit narked because he almost put my own tailoring to shame.’
‘What did you tell Maloney about Stuart Bloom?’
Cafferty shook his head. ‘You really think this is going to work? Siobhan won’t fall for it, and neither will anyone else. It’s you and yours they’ll be focused on, and rightly so. You’re selling dodgy merch, John — frankly, I’m a bit embarrassed for you. But it does make me wonder how desperate you are... and whose tracks you’re trying to cover. Take a bit of advice — you’re not a well man. It’s time you adjusted to that reality and tried to relax and enjoy yourself rather than knocking your pan out with all this stuff.’
Rebus rose to his feet. ‘Thing is, this is me relaxed and enjoying myself. You, on the other hand...’
‘What?’
Rebus gestured towards Cafferty’s forehead. ‘Vein in your temple there started beating out a tattoo five minutes ago — and that means my work here is done.’
Cafferty stayed seated as Rebus headed for the door. Only after it had closed did he press a finger to his temple. Rebus was right, he could feel the pulse there, and he wasn’t entirely sure any length of gym workout would cure it.
15
Rebus hadn’t been to Poretoun Woods since the early days of the misper inquiry. It seemed to him a bit less managed, its natural wildness taking hold. The track into the woods was easily identified thanks to the many visits by police and other professionals. Deep ruts showed where a tractor had towed the VW to a waiting trailer. One marked police car indicated that some poor sod was still on guard duty — to what end, Rebus couldn’t say. The crunch of twigs and leaves underfoot signalled his arrival, giving the uniform time to lever himself up from the tree he’d been resting against.
‘At ease, son,’ Rebus said. ‘I’m just having a look, that’s all.’
‘Off limits to the public,’ the constable stated.
‘I’m attached to the inquiry.’
‘Then how come I wasn’t told you were coming?’
‘They’ve got too much on their plate at Leith as it is,’ Rebus improvised. ‘Sorry to have to tell you, but you’re not their highest priority.’
His tone seemed to reassure the constable. Rebus reckoned the lad would have been in primary school twelve years back. The acne on both cheeks had probably bothered him since soon after.
‘No point me asking if you’ve seen anything unusual?’
‘A few gawpers from the village,’ the officer confided. ‘Couple of reporters. All they want is a photo of where it happened, even if it didn’t happen here.’
Rebus studied him. ‘You’ve heard, then?’
The uniform nodded. ‘Car might have been transported here with the deceased in it.’
Rebus was peering over the crime-scene tape down into the gully.
‘There’s a rope if you want a closer look.’