‘Was there anything else, Inspector?’
‘Just one thing. Stuart and you were extras in Zombies v Bravehearts. I saw you on the DVD, remember?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t suppose the pair of you had taken anything? You seemed a bit... glassy.’
‘Better that than wooden.’
‘You’re not going to get in trouble, Derek. I just need to know.’
‘There was plenty of stuff on set, if that’s what you’re asking. Pills and weed mostly — coke for those who could afford it.’
‘Supplied by a man called Gram?’
‘Now that you mention it.’
‘Ever know his surname?’
‘Don’t think so.’
‘Could you describe him?’
‘Just... really ordinary.’
‘Local accent?’
‘I think so.’
‘Apparently he had a friend who might have been an extra alongside you.’
‘I can’t help. It was a few days, a long time ago, in a haze of whatever was on offer. Then when Stuart went missing...’ Shankley sighed. ‘I’m sorry, I just don’t remember.’
‘If you do, you know where to find me.’
‘Can you tell me what this has to do with Stuart’s death?’
‘Not at this exact moment. Goodbye, Mr Shankley.’
‘Inspector?’
‘Yes?
‘Would it help to take a look at Stuart’s flat?’
‘What?’
‘His parents hung on to it. I was allowed to clear out my stuff, but after that...’
‘They’ve still got it?’
‘According to Dougal Kelly.’
Clarke paused. ‘I didn’t realise you two knew each other.’
‘He interviewed me for the book he’s writing. Told me the place hasn’t been touched in twelve years. Family never wanted Stuart declared dead — maybe Catherine thought he’d come back to it one day.’
‘Could you get me the key?’
‘Best if it’s someone else who asks. I’ve been persona non grata ever since Stuart vanished.’
‘Yet you’ll be in the book?’
‘Not if Catherine gets the final say. I really think the only reason she keeps Kelly around is that he’s become a surrogate.’
‘For Stuart, you mean?’
‘You’ve noticed they look similar?’
‘Maybe.’
‘It’s the eyes, the mannerisms...’
‘I’ll ask Kelly if he can get me the key.’
‘I wouldn’t mind tagging along — if that’s okay. Just to refresh my memory.’
Kelvin Brodie was standing in the doorway, clearing his throat to announce his presence. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Clarke told Shankley, ending the call. She walked towards the lawyer.
‘Might have something for you,’ he said.
Through in the interview room, the film had been paused. Jackie Ness was on his feet, leaning over the laptop screen, palms pressed to the desk.
‘I’m pretty sure,’ he said. ‘Pretty sure.’ He lifted one hand and touched first one face and then another. ‘Those two there.’
Clarke peered at the screen. ‘The zombies with their faces caked in mud and gore?’
‘Real mud, fake gore.’
The eyes were just about discernible, but little else. Height and hair colour were almost impossible to guess.
‘Will they be in other scenes?’ Clarke asked.
‘Look,’ Brodie said impatiently, ‘you’ve got your identification. I’m not sure what further gains will be made by—’
‘It’s a good film,’ Jackie Ness broke in. ‘I’d forgotten that. Still an hour to run.’
‘And Cops v Demons after that,’ Clarke reminded him. ‘Another classic. So, please, do keep watching. Both of you.’ And with a fixed smile for the benefit of the solicitor, she made her exit.
Next stop: Malcolm Fox’s room. If anything, the mounds of paperwork around him had multiplied. He had loosened his tie and the top button of his shirt.
‘Still here, then?’ Clarke said.
‘Managed to convince ACC Lyon I wasn’t quite finished.’
‘Murder inquiry, Malcolm. Got to be more exciting than pushing paperwork around a desk at Gartcosh.’ She saw him sweep his eyes across the contents of the room and gave a smile. ‘Different then,’ she corrected herself. ‘But tell me, with that big forensic brain of yours, anything in this lot about a break-in at Stuart Bloom’s flat?’
‘When?’
‘Week after he disappeared. Neighbours phoned it in; our lot went out to have a look.’
Fox gave a frown of concentration. ‘I’m pretty sure there’s nothing here.’
‘So much for joined-up thinking.’
‘Nobody put two and two together?’
‘Probably reckoned it was opportunist — guy’s not at home, so the place is unguarded.’
‘What did they take?’
‘Derek Shankley reckons very little, if anything.’
‘Any idea what it means?’
‘Maybe that whatever they wanted wasn’t there. Or it was there and they took it.’
‘The contents of the safe?’
Clarke shrugged. ‘From what Derek says, whatever was in that safe didn’t exactly fire Stuart up.’
‘But someone still wanted it back?’
‘Or else didn’t know it was worthless.’ Clarke scanned the room again. ‘Always supposing he didn’t hand it over to Jackie Ness at their final meeting.’
‘What does Ness say?’
‘No break-in, ergo nothing to hand over. Where’s your babysitter?’
‘Tess reckons I’m one of you lot now.’
‘Just the one dinner date so far?’
‘We had a drink last night. It was meant to be a film, but nothing took our fancy.’
‘I should have invited you round to mine for a DVD.’
‘Cops v Demons?’
‘The very same.’
‘Did you glean anything?’
‘Handcuffs very like the ones used on Stuart Bloom.’
‘And?’
‘We may have a lead on their supplier.’
‘A cop?’
‘No.’
‘But they are police issue?’
‘Of a certain vintage. Guy who provided them was a dope dealer.’
‘Cafferty?’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘He ran the trade back then.’
‘Except he’d gone quiet after those overdoses.’ Clarke paused. ‘So things are pretty hunky-dory with Tess, eh?’
‘I’d say so.’
‘She said anything about me?’
‘I’ve reassured her you’re one of the good guys.’
‘What about the rest of the team?’
‘They know that you and I go way back.’
‘Meaning they’re unlikely to open up to you?’ Clarke nodded her understanding.
‘Sutherland’s had a private word with each of them, though, according to Tess. He’s on your side.’
‘Might end up not being his call.’
Fox caught her meaning. ‘ACU?’
‘Heard anything from them lately?’
‘Steele wanted to know how his interview had gone down with MIT.’
‘Hope you told him: like a cup of cold sick.’
‘I was maybe a bit more diplomatic.’
Clarke pressed her hand against the nearest tower of paper. ‘Is there enough in here to see someone put on a charge?’
‘Almost certainly.’
‘But not Steele and Edwards?’
‘Probably not.’
‘Skelton and Newsome?’ She watched him nod slowly. ‘Bill Rawlston?’ He let his hand waver in front of him, meaning maybe. ‘John Rebus?’
‘Oh, John for definite.’
‘Alerting Shankley to the raids on Rogues?’
‘For starters, yes.’
‘You mean there’s a main course?’