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‘Nobody likes a grass!’ she yelled into the room, before marching back into MIT. Sutherland had moved to the middle of the floor. All eyes were on Clarke.

‘Until recently,’ she stated, her voice betraying the slightest tremble, ‘people kept saying I was in Laura’s pocket — so why would I give the Ness fingerprint to Dougal Kelly? Don’t you see — it’s Steele. It has to be.’

‘Explain,’ Sutherland said, folding his arms.

‘I know how it looks.’ Clarke held up her hands as if in surrender. ‘But Steele and Edwards have been talking to Kelly, sharing gossip from the original inquiry, giving him dirt on practically everyone involved, except themselves.’

‘You’ve got a bit of history with them,’ Sutherland said.

‘I know this looks like I want payback.’

‘More to the point, can you prove it?’

‘Not without Dougal Kelly.’

Sutherland thought for a moment. ‘What was the meeting about anyway?’

‘Laura’s a mate. I thought it was just a catch-up.’

‘What did Kelly want?’

‘A contact on the inside, I think. We really didn’t get very far.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because he wanted to talk about the team on the original inquiry and how they’d fallen down on the job.’

‘You didn’t want to hear that?’

‘Not especially.’

‘Because it might have meant hearing something unflattering about John Rebus?’

‘Because,’ Clarke countered, ‘my focus is the current case, not what happened back then.’

Sutherland pursed his lips and stared at the floor, then raised his head and scanned the faces around him.

‘Thoughts, people?’

There were shrugs, and twitches of mouths, and a clearing of the throat from George Gamble.

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ Clarke said drily.

‘Your reporter friend, she’ll back up your story?’ Sutherland asked.

‘I’d hope so, since it happens to be the truth.’

‘Then again, she’s a mate — you said as much yourself — so she’d want to cover your back.’

‘Am I being reprimanded? Kicked into touch?’

‘Course of action yet to be decided.’

‘Thanks a fucking bunch.’ Clarke turned and started to leave.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Some fresh air — want someone shadowing me to make sure I don’t get up to anything?’ She waited for a response. When none came, she headed for the stairs.

Rebus was driving through the city when Christine Esson called him.

‘Bad time?’ she asked.

‘Bloody roadworks,’ Rebus snarled. ‘What can I do for you, Christine?’

‘I’ve done what digging I can. Ended up using a few aliases, so I can keep monitoring the chat. This is by way of an interim report.’

‘Fire away.’

‘Kristen wasn’t hugely popular among Ellis’s friends. They all fancied her, but none of them actually liked her. Too stuck-up and too mouthy. Nothing to suggest she wasn’t in love with Ellis, though, or was seeing anyone else. Her parents are a bit...’

‘Religious?’

‘Cold, I was going to say. After she died, they went deep and silent, their social media presence non-existent. Ellis’s mum, on the other hand, went into overdrive. Anyone bad-mouthed her son, she hit back hard. Mostly Facebook and Twitter for her, a mix of Snapchat, Tumblr, Instagram, Flickr, Reddit and WhatsApp for everyone else.’

‘Everyone else meaning...?’

‘Kristen and Ellis’s peer group.’

‘What about Ellis’s sister?’

‘She’s online a fair amount. I tried saying hello to some of her friends, but I think they twigged. Not sure my “voice” was right.’

‘You’re telling me you’re not down with the kids?’

‘Steady, Grandad.’

‘Is she still in touch with pals from her old school?’

‘Looks like.’

‘But no trouble integrating at her new one?’

‘Nope.’

‘Her dad says her old school had been letting her down.’

‘Can’t help you there. But about her dad...’

‘Yes?’

‘I think I found traces of him on a dating site — he only seems to have the one email address and used his real name. Having left his wife, he seems to be in the market for a younger model.’

Rebus’s brow furrowed. ‘How young?’

‘Nothing illegal — not that I can find. Late teens to late twenties.’

‘How did you find out?’

‘A tweet he sent to a mate he works with, thanking him for the tip. I scrolled back through the workmate’s timeline.’

‘He ever have dealings with Kristen?’

‘Anything between them could have been deleted.’

‘How about Kristen and Dallas?’

‘Same goes. Sorry I can’t be more helpful.’

‘It’s all helpful, Christine.’

‘One other thing. There’s always a fair bit of goading and sneering online, even between friends. One seems to have a go at Billie harder than the others. They go by the name Chizzy. I’m not sure Billie knows them, except online.’

‘What sort of stuff are we talking about?’

‘They’ll comment on a photo, saying Billie’s looking fat or spotty — that sort of thing. Pretty harmless, and always accompanied by winking or laughing emojis. But it’s the sort of thing a girl like Billie might take to heart.’

‘Any idea who Chizzy might be?’

‘Well that’s the thing.’ Esson paused. ‘I’m thinking Billie’s mother.’

‘What?’

‘I might be totally wrong, but it’s just a couple of the things Chizzy says. She spells “laughs” as l-a-f-z, for example. Seona Meikle does the same on her Facebook posts. I could be reading too much into it, of course.’

‘Can we find out Chizzy’s real identity?’

‘We’d need someone a bit more technical. I’m strictly amateur hour.’

‘What does that make me?’ Rebus asked.

‘Thing is, why would Seona be taunting her own daughter?’

‘I’ll need to think about that.’

‘Want me to keep going?’

‘If it’s no bother.’

‘I’m actually quite enjoying it.’

‘Just so long as it doesn’t cross the line into stalking.’

He heard her give a tut. ‘Incidentally,’ she said, ‘I even decided to check your social media presence.’

‘Oh aye? And?’

‘There isn’t one.’

‘Did that come as a surprise?’

‘Not in the least. But knowing how frugal you are...’

‘Tell me.’

‘You could FaceTime for free.’

‘I’m still getting the hang of phones without wires, Christine — don’t start bamboozling me.’

41

‘Well,’ Clarke said, ‘I thought Zombies v Bravehearts was bad, but it was Gregory’s Girl by comparison.’ The end credits had finished and the DVD’s main menu was showing on her TV screen. She was seated on the sofa next to Rebus. He had nodded off for a couple of minutes in the middle and missed absolutely nothing. She stepped over the dozing Brillo, crossed to her living room window and closed the curtains against the Edinburgh night.

‘Looked like they shot some of it in Craigmillar,’ Rebus said, popping open the empty DVD case. ‘Must have saved a fortune, not needing make-up for the demons.’

‘The two male leads were the same as in Bravehearts.’

‘Neither seems to have become box office gold.’

‘I googled them — they’re not actors any more.’