‘I’d stick him in here if I could.’
Christie stabbed a finger in Rebus’s direction, eyes glowing. ‘You promise that? On your daughter’s life?’
‘You taking anything, Darryl?’
Christie snorted. ‘Everyone in here’s taking something. It’s almost as rife as Barlinnie. The only thing you’ll see more of than drugs is wagging tongues. Not much else to do but gossip. Plenty old-timers who’ve had dealings with Cafferty down the years. I maybe know things you don’t.’ He paused to lick his lips. ‘Your lot have stopped targeting him, haven’t they? No investigations, surveillance, phone taps? Nobody’s paying a blind bit of attention, because Police Scotland has become one giant fucking psychiatric case.’
‘DI Fox works at Gartcosh. I can ask him if Cafferty’s being—’
‘I’m telling you, Cafferty’s been let off the hook. He’s running the drugs, the brothels, the fences, the illegal immigrants. He’s taking a cut from everyone and everywhere and nobody’s doing anything to stop him.’
Rebus saw it in Christie’s sunken eyes: Cafferty had become an obsession, an infatuation, almost to the point of madness.
‘I’m out of the game, Darryl,’ he reasoned. ‘If you want Police Scotland to target Cafferty, give them what you’ve got.’
Christie shook his head. There was sweat beading on his forehead and he wiped it away. ‘There’s not enough — not in the here and now. But then along comes Stuart Bloom...’
Rebus stared at him. ‘You can tie Cafferty to Bloom?’
‘There was a guy in here, one-time safe-breaker. Past it now, of course. He’s back outside. Used to do jobs for Cafferty from the eighties on, was still with him in 2006. He knows a lot of what Cafferty was up to back then.’ Christie was nodding to himself, eyes never leaving Rebus. ‘You knew Cafferty then too, John — Larry mentioned you once or twice to people. Larry Huston. Name mean anything?’
‘I think I remember it.’
‘Get Larry to tell you what he knows.’
‘Why don’t I just hear it from you?’
Christie seemed to admit the reasonableness of this. ‘Huston was out of here before I arrived, so it’s all second- and third-hand — that’s why it’s better for him to tell you.’ He took a step forward, then another, leaning in so his mouth was close to Rebus’s ear. Rebus caught a blast of halitosis when he spoke.
‘They’re looking at pinning Bloom on you and yours. Wouldn’t it be better all round if Cafferty took the fall?’
His fist passed Rebus’s head and thumped once on the door. It opened immediately, the same warder standing there.
‘Thanks, Bobby,’ Christie said.
‘No problem, Darryl.’ Then, to Rebus: ‘Let’s go get you your phone.’
30
The team watched the press conference on the monitor in the MIT office. Mollison looked and sounded the part, parrying questions with professional aplomb while Graham Sutherland sat next to him, wriggling and twitching as if he would never get comfortable. When the cameras cut to the press pack, Clarke saw that Dougal Kelly had been allowed in and was seated next to Laura Smith, both of them recording the audio on their phones. More than one journalist wanted to know if the handcuffs were standard police issue and whether there were identifiers on them. Others asked about the questioning of Jackie Ness and the forensic team at Poretoun House. Mollison managed not to give much away while sounding as if he were being frank and open.
‘It’s a definite skill,’ George Gamble commented.
‘That’s why he earns the big bucks,’ Callum Reid added. Reid was watching like an avid student in a lecture theatre, Mollison the professor he wanted one day to become. Clarke shuffled further back to where Malcolm Fox was standing, at his favoured spot just by the door.
‘I hear you took my advice,’ she said in an undertone.
‘Dinner with Tess, you mean?’ He watched her nod. ‘How did you know?’
‘Word got around. So how did it go?’
‘It was fine.’
‘Did you happen to mention she was on the bench till I turned you down?’ She saw his look and shook her head. ‘Your secret’s safe with me. But tell me, was it just dinner, or did things...?’
‘Just dinner,’ Fox stated, giving her another look.
‘You’ll miss her when you’re sent back to Gartcosh — any news on that front?’
‘No.’
They watched as the press conference began to wind down. The media liaison office got busy handing out briefing notes, but there was sudden movement, Dougal Kelly confronting Sutherland and Mollison, phone held out in front of him like a microphone.
‘You wouldn’t take my question but I’m asking it anyway,’ Kelly was shouting. ‘Is it true that a fingerprint on the handcuffs has been identified as belonging to Jackie Ness? Why has this information been withheld from the family?’
‘We’re not at liberty to discuss—’
Mollison’s words were drowned out by a barrage of questions from the room. Was that why Ness had been brought in for questioning and why his former home was being examined by a forensic team? Mollison’s face had turned crimson, a mix of rage and embarrassment. He was waving away the questions with one hand and guiding Sutherland towards the exit with the other. The journalists were asking Kelly for more details, their recording devices thrust in his direction. Was he sure? How did he know? Tess Leighton had turned away from the monitor and was making for Fox and Clarke.
‘It was all going so well,’ she commented.
‘Mollison’s going to be raging,’ Fox added.
‘With Graham bearing the brunt of it.’
‘I dare say he’ll share it around when he gets back.’
‘Or before,’ Callum Reid said, answering his phone. ‘Yes, we saw,’ he told Sutherland. ‘All of us, yes.’ He listened for a moment. ‘We’re wondering that ourselves. Should we pull Kelly in and ask him?’ He listened again, shaking his head for the benefit of the room. ‘You’re right, probably wouldn’t play well. But does that mean we shouldn’t do it?’ Another shake of the head. ‘So when the phones start ringing, what do we say? “Not a bloody thing”,’ he quoted, eyes on Clarke. ‘Understood.’ Clarke’s own phone vibrated. An incoming text from Laura Smith: I had no idea. Well, of course. Kelly hadn’t got the info from Laura. It had to be Steele and Edwards again. But could she say as much without it sounding as if she just wanted them stitched up?
Reid’s call with Sutherland had finished. ‘Ten minutes he’ll be here,’ he said.
‘What should we do about Ness?’ Fox enquired.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Press are going to be all over him again.’
‘Not forgetting the Bloom family,’ Leighton added. ‘He’s got a lot of grief coming his way.’
‘Might be easier all round for him just to confess,’ George Gamble said from behind his desk while cracking his knuckles.
‘Is protective custody an option?’ Leighton asked. Callum Reid offered a shrug.
‘Boss’s decision rather than ours. I’d say he’s going to have something else at the forefront of his mind, though.’
‘Who leaked,’ Fox said with a slow nod.
‘Who leaked,’ Callum Reid agreed.
There was still colour in Graham Sutherland’s cheeks when he entered the office. His team waited in silence for him to speak. He eased himself on to the corner of his desk and folded his arms.
‘Mollison is rightly furious. That was a hijacking, pure and simple. But like the best stunts, it got a result. That doesn’t mean anything’s changed. We still have plenty of work to do and that’s what we need to focus on. Siobhan, you’ve got Glasgow this evening, yes?’ He watched as she nodded. ‘And you’re taking Emily?’