‘Why haven’t you charged Ness with my son’s murder?’ Catherine Bloom exploded. ‘Why are you so hell-bent on protecting him?’
‘We’re preparing a case.’
‘He is the case! His fingerprint was on the handcuffs!’
‘Obviously,’ Kelly said, his voice conciliatory, ‘the procurator fiscal doesn’t think there’s enough to take to trial.’ His eyes were on Bloom, head angled slightly.
‘It was Steele, wasn’t it?’ Clarke asked him. ‘He told you the print belonged to Jackie Ness.’
Kelly turned his attention towards her. ‘You really think I’d tell you?’
‘That’s why I’m asking.’ Clarke gestured towards the police station. ‘We can always chat in there if you’d prefer.’
‘That sounds like a threat,’ Catherine Bloom said, eyes reduced to slits. ‘And all because Dougal exploded your cosy conspiracy of silence.’
‘Mr Kelly’s outburst helped push Jackie Ness over the edge.’
‘Aye, and after attacking a man, he gets off with a fine — what’s that if not evidence of you lot going easy on him?’
Clarke shook her head. ‘Think what you like, Mrs Bloom.’
‘I will, don’t worry.’
Clarke was still shaking her head as she turned and crossed the road again. As she reached the far pavement, a horn sounded. She couldn’t tell if it was a complaint aimed at her or a thumbs-up for the silent protest.
Ten minutes later, when she checked from the window, Bloom and Kelly were gone. Her phone rang, not a number she recognised. She answered anyway.
‘It’s me,’ Dougal Kelly said. ‘I put Catherine in a cab back to the hotel, told her I felt like walking.’
Clarke squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, feeling bone tired. ‘None of what you’re doing is helping. If your book is all that matters to you, fair enough, but if you care about the family, you’ll make Catherine see sense. She needs to get her life back.’
‘Stuart won’t get his back.’
‘Is it justice she wants or revenge?’
‘She wants closure, I think. You know they can’t even fix a date for the funeral until the fiscal releases the body, and that might not happen till after any trial. Twelve years they’ve been waiting.’
‘Will a few more weeks or months really make such a difference?’
‘Every day weighs on them.’ Kelly sighed. ‘Martin’s started drinking again. Catherine’s stopped speaking to him.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. Would it help if I said I really think we’re getting close?’
‘I’m not entirely sure Catherine would believe it.’
‘I don’t know if I believe it myself — but I keep saying it so I don’t give up.’
‘That story you told us about the safe in Brand’s office... Would it be best kept out of the spotlight?’
‘As of right this second, yes, probably.’
‘Yet you blurted it out.’
‘A moment of madness.’
There was silence on the line for a few moments. She could hear him walking past other pedestrians, buses rumbling close by. ‘I’m sorry I spoiled your lunch with Laura,’ he eventually said.
‘You did a lot more than that, Dougal.’
‘If you’d been in my shoes, you’d have asked about the fingerprint too.’
‘Would I?’
‘The way Ness reacted, doesn’t that make him look like a guilty man?’
‘Guilty of being pushed too far, maybe.’
‘You really think he’s innocent?’
‘I’m trying to keep an open mind. It was Steele, wasn’t it? He’s been feeding you stories about the original inquiry, and now he’s served up Jackie Ness for dessert.’
‘I’ll deny it in public.’
‘Of course you will, but this is just between us.’ She listened to his silence. ‘For my own satisfaction.’
‘Let me buy you another lunch.’
‘Not a good idea.’ She saw that someone from the front desk had arrived in the doorway, holding what looked like a glossy black DVD case.
‘By way of apology,’ Kelly was saying.
‘I’ll think about it,’ Clarke told him, ending the call.
39
Rebus recognised her and got out of his car, locking it after him. Billie Meikle had a key out, ready to open the door to her tenement, but had paused to watch a group of students as they passed, probably heading home from the university. She was dressed in her school uniform and was toting a heavy-looking backpack.
‘Billie?’ Rebus said. ‘Is your father at home? Can I come up and have a word?’ She gave him a troubled look. ‘I’m with the police,’ he explained. ‘Nothing to worry about, it won’t take long.’
She didn’t say anything, just pushed at the door and held it while he followed her inside.
‘You moved schools, eh?’ he asked as they climbed the stone stairs. He was praying the flat would be no more than a flight or two up. ‘How’s it working out?’
‘It’s great.’ She had stopped at the first landing and was unlocking a red door with no name on it.
‘You like living with your dad?’ Rebus tried not to sound too breathless.
‘Yeah.’
She was fourteen, her hair a mass of brown curls, falling over her forehead, half covering her eyes. Gawkiness would leave her soon, as would the puppy fat. She was already thinking of college, thinking of joining those students she had paused to study.
The flat was minimally furnished, not enough books to fill the single bookcase in the hall, the seating in the living room angled so that the vast flat-screen TV was the focus of attention.
‘He’ll be home soon,’ she said.
‘I’m happy to wait. Do you see much of your brother?’
Her cheeks reddened. ‘Just the weekly visit.’ She was shedding her outer coat and blazer, the backpack hitting the floor with a thump.
‘I saw him yesterday,’ Rebus told her. ‘I’m fixing for him to have an easier time of it inside.’
She seemed uncertain what he meant but thanked him anyway. ‘Do you want a coffee?’
‘I’m fine,’ Rebus said, settling on one of the chairs. ‘You got homework to be getting on with?’
‘Always.’ She had hoisted the backpack onto the small round dining table and was emptying it. ‘Maths, biology, geography, English...’
‘Can’t help you with any of those.’
She pretended an interest in a textbook while asking her next question: ‘How was he?’
‘Your brother’s doing okay.’
‘He doesn’t like that he’s in with... with people who...’
‘That’s one of the things I’m trying to change.’
‘Why?’ Now she looked at him, keen for knowledge.
‘Because it’s not right, I suppose.’
She considered this and nodded slowly in agreement.
‘You visited your mum that day, didn’t you? Did Ellis seem his usual self?’
‘He was on his computer mostly. He had a couple of mates round.’