‘Matt won’t be happy,’ she stated. ‘He keeps family and business separate.’
‘That’s nice. Through here, aye?’ Laidlaw began to squeeze past her. It was a calculated risk. One gesture from her and the gorilla in the car would come bounding up the path. But as he walked down the hall, his feet making no discernible sound as they stepped on a good half-inch depth of expensive-looking pale carpet, he heard the door behind him click shut. He glanced into the living room as he passed it. The voluminous three-piece suite looked new. Maybe there’d been a trip to Carrick Furniture.
‘He’s in the garden,’ she called out. ‘Through the dining room extension.’
Matt Mason was dressed for the weather, a fleecy jacket zipped to his neck and a flat cap on his head. Beneath the cap, the hair was thinning. He wasn’t much over five feet two in height, stocky with it. He sat at a round metal table, a walking stick propped next to him. The morning paper was open at the sports pages, alongside an empty mug.
‘I see Colin Stein’s leaving Rangers,’ Laidlaw said. ‘Who the hell are you?’ Mason responded, watching as Laidlaw dragged out the chair opposite and sat himself down.
‘I’m CID. The name’s Laidlaw.’
‘It’s a name I’ve heard.’
‘Just wanted to check that there’s no good news. You being up and about confirms it.’
‘You’re the owner of a smart mouth, Laidlaw. You want to be careful how you drive it though.’
‘A bit like one of Cam Colvin’s taxis, eh? Some garage proprietor is going to be popping the champagne and booking a week in the sunshine.’
‘I take it he got hit?’
‘Don’t pretend it’s coming as news to you.’
‘It is, though.’
Laidlaw shook his head slowly. ‘It’s not John Rhodes’s style, and Colvin isn’t canny enough to attack his own business so he could lay the blame on the opposition. You, though...’ He jabbed a finger towards Mason. ‘Seems to me you’ve got most to gain from Colvin and Rhodes fighting each other.’
‘Is that right?’
‘Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.’
Mason considered for a moment. ‘No, you’re probably right. All the same, I didn’t do anything to Colvin’s taxis. They belong to Betty Fraser, and I like Betty. I knew her father back in the day. She’s the one losing money while the cabs are being fixed. Colvin will still demand his cut at month’s end.’
Laidlaw was breaking the seal on a fresh packet of cigarettes. He paused. ‘If you don’t mind?’ he said. It was a small concession, but a concession nonetheless. Mason acknowledged as much with his eyes.
‘Puff away,’ he said.
Laidlaw used his lighter. The tobacconist had changed its flint and topped up the gas.
‘That’s a nice one,’ Mason said, admiring it.
‘Present from my brother. He didn’t like that I used to be fitter than him. Decided to hobble me by facilitating my habit.’
Mason smiled a thin smile. ‘What are you really doing here?’
‘Just getting a feel for things.’ Laidlaw took in his surroundings. ‘All your own work?’
‘We’ve got a gardener.’
‘Bearsden seems to be the place, eh? For men going up in the world, I mean. Cam Colvin’s not too far away, and Bobby Carter had recently moved into the vicinity. I know you grew up in the Gallowgate; not the easiest of upbringings. Yet here you are, and that’s what separates the likes of you and Colvin from John Rhodes.’
‘Because Rhodes still lives in the Calton? You think that makes him — what? — more authentic?’ Mason gave a sneer. ‘To my mind it makes him lazy. His world’s shrinking around him and he can’t even see it.’
‘Whereas you and Colvin are always hungry for more — more power, more money, more territory?’
‘It’s called capitalism, Laidlaw.’
‘Not the way you do it. Your style is more totalitarian regime with punishment beatings and disappearances. History isn’t on your side.’
‘In which case I say: fuck history.’
‘That’ll look perfect on your headstone. Seen much of Archie Love lately?’
‘Who?’
‘What drugs did they give you in hospital, Matt? They seem to have affected your brainpan. Love’s the guy who gets players to throw games so you can make the extra few quid you so sorely don’t need while heaping on them a lifetime of guilt and self-loathing. He’s also the father of Jenni Love, who was seeing Bobby Carter on the fly. Ringing any bells now? You might have thought you were doing Love a favour by getting rid of Carter. Maybe you didn’t know Jenni had split up with him. Maybe you thought you’d be wrapping your tentacles around her father that bit tighter, so he wouldn’t suddenly get cold feet. And wouldn’t it be grand if Carter’s death could in some way be pinned either on John Rhodes or one of Cam Colvin’s own team?’
Laidlaw broke off, studying Mason’s face as if he were a surgeon about to operate on its owner. ‘I’m just wondering if you’re clever enough to have thought all that through, and now that I’ve seen you in the flesh, I’m having grave doubts. Very grave doubts. Added to which, the armed guard out front tells me you think you’re under threat. Question is: who from? I doubt you’re going to tell me. In fact, I’d guess you don’t really know. If you did, you’d have felt compelled to do something noisy and public about it. So there you are, that’s why I came here — like I said, to get a feel for things.’ He rose to his feet.
‘How long have you been in the police?’ Mason asked.
‘Long enough.’
‘What was it about the job that attracted you?’
‘The privilege of studying human nature close up. That and the pension plan.’
Mason managed another thin smile. ‘See, most cops I meet, there’s not much behind the eyes, your boss Ernie Milligan being a prime example, but you strike me as different.’
‘Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr Mason.’
‘I’m not flattering you, son, but you already know that. You’ve a good enough conceit of yourself. You know your strengths, but remember to watch out for your weaknesses, too.’
‘And what might those be?’
‘I think you’re maybe a bit more idealistic than you let on. You believe in things like justice and fair play.’
‘And you’ve culled all of that from our chat here today? You should open a psychiatric practice.’
‘One more thing, then. Just remember that you might be guilty, too — guilty of overthinking things.’
‘I’ve faced that accusation before; I dare say I’ll face it again.’ Laidlaw’s eyes went to Mason’s walking stick. ‘I’ll be hopping along now.’
‘Do that — and don’t ever think about coming back.’
Halfway to the house, Laidlaw paused and turned his face towards Mason. ‘Does that guy still work for you, the one who bites chunks off people’s faces for a living?’
‘The Snapper, you mean? He got gum disease. They had to whip out all his teeth.’
‘Ending his business model in the process? I suppose that’s the problem when you only have the one skill. A bit like taking Spanner Thomson’s spanner away from him. Without it, he’s just a guy called Thomson with an empty pocket. Maybe that’s how you see Cam Colvin without Bobby Carter. Must be nice to sit here in your garden relaxing and protected while Colvin and Rhodes burn each other’s houses down.’
‘I’d be lying if I said the thought didn’t give me a nice warm glow.’ Mason picked up his paper again and started perusing the racing section. Laidlaw couldn’t be sure that he was a betting man necessarily. Maybe he just liked studying the form.
There was no sign of Mason’s wife in the house. Laidlaw continued smoking as he walked down the deserted hallway, flicking cigarette ash onto the carpet in his wake.