Colvin looked at the array of bottles below the row of optics. There were only two malts. He lifted the fuller one and released the cork stopper, pouring an inch into a glass and sliding it towards Rhodes.
‘Have one yourself,’ Rhodes said. Then, turning towards Paterson and Menzies: ‘Not you two, though. You can fuck off outside. Gerry will keep you company. If you get bored, you can start comparing cocks. Got to warn you, though, his dad must have been more horse than man.’
The two men looked to Colvin for their instructions. When he nodded, they made for the exit, the scarred man following them out. Colvin was refilling his own glass. He and Rhodes hoisted their drinks at the same time.
‘Here’s to business,’ Rhodes said, eyes fixed on Colvin’s. He took his time as he nosed then sipped and savoured the malt. ‘The taxis had nothing to do with me,’ he said eventually.
‘Who then?’
‘I’ve got my suspicions.’
‘Matt Mason?’
Rhodes gave a look that could have meant anything. ‘I’m hoping to know for sure by the end of the day. I’ll keep you posted.’
‘And I’m supposed to trust you?’
‘That’ll be up to you. But the way you’re haemorrhaging men, any fight between us would be pretty one-sided.’
‘Don’t count on that.’
Rhodes allowed himself a smile. ‘You might like a scrap, but you’re not the fighter you used to be — if you ever were.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘The knife between your shoulders, the one thing everyone knows about you. Funny that when I went asking, no surgery or receptionist knew anything about it. Not that that matters — print the myth, as they say in the trade. But a myth lasts only so long.’
‘And you’re immortal, are you?’
‘Not at all. That’s what separates us, Colvin — I know I’m only as good as the day I’m living.’ Rhodes tapped a meaty finger against the bar top. ‘Meaning this day right here.’ He watched Colvin try to process what he was saying. ‘Bit too philosophical for you? All right, change of tack — what’s the score with Thomson and Ballater? Neither looked too thrilled when they stomped out.’
‘I know you talked to Spanner.’
Rhodes offered a shrug. ‘I like to know what’s going on. CID had him on their radar. I needed to find out how serious that was.’
‘And also whether he was ripe to switch sides.’ Colvin’s eyes were on the door. He was wishing he hadn’t given Ballater back the razor; doubted a broken bottle would be enough against Rhodes. The man had rested one buttock on a stool while Colvin remained on the serving side of the bar, fists bunched on top of a drip tray.
‘You probably think I should have been to see you earlier,’ Rhodes said, ‘paying my respects and keen to convince you Bobby Carter’s death had nothing to do with me?’
‘Not really,’ Colvin answered. ‘Steering clear meant you looked confident, like you could afford to float above it all.’
‘I always knew you had your wits about you,’ Rhodes drawled. ‘Makes me wonder why you insist on surrounding yourself with the people you do.’
‘Same as you and Scarface, maybe. Neither of us likes competition.’
‘That may be a factor,’ Rhodes conceded before finishing his drink. ‘So what do we do now, you and me? Bit of naked wrestling on the floor? Pistols at dawn in Bellahouston Park?’
‘I still need to know who killed Bobby.’
‘I’m not sure I can help you there.’
‘You positive about that?’
‘The stuff that’s been happening since, I’m going to get to the bottom of, but not Bobby Carter. If I take care of that bit of business, do we call a truce?’
‘I’m not totally convinced I believe you about Bobby.’
Rhodes peered into his drink and gave a sigh that would have passed muster on the stage of the Theatre Royal. ‘You know he was thinking of setting up on his own? Bobby, I mean. He wanted to discuss it with me.’
‘Why you rather than me?’
‘Makes sense — if he could get the likes of me and Matt Mason on his side, it would make talking to you that bit easier.’
Colvin shook his head. ‘I’ll tell you what Bobby was doing — putting out feelers, because he had the notion someone was playing both sides.’
‘Are you sure about that? If you ask me, he’d seen too many Mafia flicks and thought the same shit would work in our Dear Green Place.’ Rhodes stared across the bar at Colvin. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if you really knew the guy at all. Maybe you just liked having him around because it meant you got to ogle his wife occasionally.’
Colvin’s eyes darkened and he squared his shoulders. Rhodes disarmed him with a smile as cold as a walk-in freezer. ‘You’ve been spotted at her house, Cam, that’s all I’m saying. Next time you’re there, ask to see Bobby’s map of Glasgow. He didn’t show it to me because I stood him up. But he did show it to Matt Mason. Apparently he was very proud of the way he’d only taken tiny bites out of Mason’s territory and mine. You didn’t fare quite as generously. That’s why he needed Mason and me on board before he brought it to you. You weren’t going to be happy about it, not happy at all. That’s the kind of man you seem willing to raze this city to the ground for. Bear that in mind, eh? Whatever else Bobby Carter was, he was not your Robert fucking Duvall.’
‘You need to leave now before I do something I won’t regret.’
Rhodes slid from the stool, drawing himself to his full height. ‘You come at me or mine, you better believe you’ll regret it.’ His eyes were drawn to the glass strewn across the floor. ‘Bit of tidying-up to do, Colvin. Don’t let me stop you fetching your dustpan.’
‘We cross paths again, you’re a dead man.’
‘At least I’ll be a dead man who never had to lie about getting knifed in the back.’
Rhodes gave a wave of one leather-gloved hand as he made his exit. Colvin stood in silence for a moment before topping up his glass. His hand shook a little, but not much. He drained his drink, exhaled, then launched the emptied glass at the nearest wall.
35
Laidlaw knocked once on the door before entering and caught Ernie Milligan red-handed as he took possession of the football programme he’d just asked Archie Love to sign. He rolled it up and stuffed it into his pocket, trying to look unflustered.
‘What do you want, Laidlaw?’ he snapped.
‘A word with you — if you’ve finished with the memorabilia.’ Laidlaw saw the swelling on Love’s forehead. ‘If you need someone to corroborate that DI Milligan inflicted that injury, I’m your man.’
‘DC Laidlaw sometimes mistakes policing for an old episode of Jokers Wild,’ Milligan stated for Love’s benefit.
‘Seriously, though...’ Laidlaw made show of examining the bruise. ‘Looks the sort of damage a hammer might do — a hammer or a spanner. Am I right?’
‘I tripped in the dressing room,’ Love said.
‘Of course you did.’ Laidlaw straightened up and followed Milligan out of the room. Milligan was scowling as he closed the door. He was about to say something, but Laidlaw got there first.
‘Describe Bobby Carter’s house to me.’
‘Didn’t I see you there just yesterday?’
‘You barred me from going inside, though, so humour me.’
‘Hallway, living room and kitchen, downstairs toilet, three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs.’
‘Just the three bedrooms?’
‘The boys share, though they’re itching for their sister to move out so they can have a room each.’
‘Anything else?’
Milligan folded his arms while he considered. ‘Top-quality furniture, carpets are a bit loud for my taste. There’s a decent-sized back garden plus a garage at the side.’