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`They're worried this Rat Line will connect to whoever killed Lintz?’

`I'm not sure it goes that far,' Rebus said.

`Meaning?’

He looked at Clarke. `Meaning I'm not sure it goes that far.’

`Well,' Hogan said, `looks like he's off my back for a little while at least, for which I'm grateful.’

He got to his feet. `Get anyone a coffee?’

Clarke checked her watch. `Go on then.’

Rebus waited till Hogan was gone, then thanked Siobhan again. `I wasn't sure you'd be able to spare the time.’

`We're giving Jack Morton a wide berth,' she explained. `Nothing to do but bite our fingernails and wait. What about you, what are you up to?’

`Keeping my nose clean.’

She smiled. `I'll bet.’

Hogan came back with three coffees. `Powdered milk, sorry.’

Clarke wrinkled her nose. `Actually, I've got to be getting back.’

She stood up and put on her coat.

`That's one I owe you,' Hogan said, shaking her hand.

`I won't let you forget.’

She turned to Rebus. `See you later.’

`Cheers, Siobhan.’

Hogan put her cup beside his own. `So we got Abernethy off my back, but did we get anything else?’

`Wait and see, Bobby. I didn't exactly have much time to devise a strategy.’

The phone rang, just as Hogan took a mouthful of scalding coffee. Rebus picked up.

`Hello?’

`Is that you, John?’

Country and western twanging in the background: Claverhouse.

`You've just missed her,' Rebus told him.

`It's not Clarke I wanted, it's you.’

`Oh?’

`Something I thought you might be interested in. It's just filtered down from NCIS.’

Rebus heard Claverhouse pick up a sheet of paper. `Sakiji Shoda… I think I've pronounced that right. Flew into Heathrow from Kansai Airport yesterday. SouthEast Regional Crime Squad were apprised.’

`Terrific.’

`He didn't hang around, caught a connection to Inverness. Stayed the night in a local hotel, and now I hear he's in Edinburgh.’

Rebus looked out of the window. `Not exactly golfing weather.’

`I don't think he's up here for the golf. According to the original report, Mr Shoda is a high-ranking member of the… can't make it out on the fax. Socky-something.’

`Sokaiya?’

Rebus sat up.

`That looks about right.’

`Where is he now?’

`I tried a couple of hotels. He's staying at the Caly. What's the Sokaiya?’

`It's the upper echelons of the Yakuza.’

`How does it read to you?’

`I was going to suggest he's Matsumoto's replacement, but it sounds to me like he's a few grades higher.’

'Matsumoto's boss?’

`Which meant he's probably here to find out what happened to his boy.’

Rebus tapped a pen against his teeth. Hogan was listening, but not getting any of it. `Why Inverness? Why not direct to Edinburgh?’

`I've been wondering that.’

Claverhouse sneezed. `How pissed off will he be?’

`Somewhere between "mildly" and "very". More importantly, how are Telford and Mr Pink Eyes going to react?’

`You think Telford will drop Maclean's?’

`On the contrary, I think he'll want to show Mr Shoda that he can do some things right.’

Rebus thought back to something Claverhouse had said. `South-East Crime Squad?’

`Yes.’

`Rather than Scotland Yard?’

`Maybe the two are the same?’

`Maybe. Do you have a contact number?’

Claverhouse gave it to him.

`You'll speak to Jack Morton tonight?’

Rebus asked.

`Yes.’

`Better tell him about this.’

`Talk to you again.’

Rebus put down the receiver, picked it up again, got an outside line and made the call. Explained his reason for calling and asked if there was anyone who could help him. He was told to hold. `Is this to do with Telford?’

Hogan asked. Rebus nodded. `Hey, Bobby, did you ever talk to Telford again?’

`I tried a couple of times. He just kept saying: "It must've been a wrong number".’

`And this was echoed by his staff?’

Hogan nodded, smiled. `Tell you a funny thing. I walked into Telford's office, and someone was at his desk, back to me. I apologised, said I'd come back when he'd finished with the lady. Well, the "lady" turns, face like fury…’

`Pretty-Boy?’

Hogan nodded. `And pretty fucking angry the last I saw him.’

Hogan laughed. `Putting you through,' the switchboard told Rebus. `How can I help you?’

The voice sounded Welsh. `My name's DI Rebus, Scottish Crime Squad.’

Rebus winked at Hogan: the lie would give him more clout. `Yes, Inspector?’

`And you are…?’

`DI Morgan.’

`We had this message this morning…’

`Yes?’

`Concerning Sakiji Shoda.’

`That would be my boss has sent you that.’

`What I'm wondering is, what's your interest?’

`Well, Inspector, I'm more of an expert on vory y zakone.’

`That clears things up then.’

Morgan chuckled. "`Thieves within the code". Meaning mafiya.’

`Russian mafia?’

`That's it.’

`You'll have to help me here. What's that got to do with…?’

`Why do you want to know?’

Rebus took a sip of coffee. `We've had a spot of bother with the Yakuza up here. One victim so far. My guess is that Shoda is the victim's boss.’

`And he's up there for a sort of unofficial committal?’

'We don't have the committal stage in Scotland, DI Morgan.’

`Well, pardon me for breathing.’

`Thing is, we've also got a Russian gangster up here. I say he's Russian, word is he's Chechen.’

`Is it Jake Tarawicz?’

`You've heard of him?’

`That's my job, sonny boy.’

`Well, anyway, with the Yakuza and the Chechens in town…’

`You've got a nightmare scenario. Understood. Well, look… What about if you give me your number there, and I'll call back in five minutes? Need to put some facts together first.’

Rebus gave him the number, then waited ten minutes for the call back. `You were checking me out,' he told the Welshman.

`Got to be careful. Bit naughty of you to say you were Crime Squad.’

`Let's just say I'm the next best thing. So is there anything you can tell me?’

Morgan took a deep breath. `We've been chasing a lot of dirty money around the world.’

Rebus couldn't find a clean sheet of paper to write on. Hogan gave him a pad.

`See,' Morgan was saying, `the old Soviet Asia is now the biggest supplier of raw opium in the world. And wherever there's drugs, there's money needs laundering.’

`And this money makes its way to Britain?’

`On its way elsewhere. Companies in London, private banks in Guernsey… the money gets filtered down, getting cleaner all the time. Everyone wants to do business with the Russians.’

'Why?’

`Because they make everyone money. Russia's one giant bazaar. You want weapons, counterfeit goods, money, fake passports, even plastic surgery? You want any of that, it's in Russia. The place has open borders, airports nobody knows exist… it's ideal.’

`If you happen to be an international mobster.’

`Exactly. And the mafiya have made links with their Sicilian cousins, with the Camorra, the Calabrians… I could go on forever. British villains go shopping there. They all love the Russians.’

`And now they're here?’

`Oh, they're here all right. Running protection and prossies, dealing drugs…’

Prostitutes, drugs: Mr Pink Eyes's territory; Telford's territory.

`Any evidence of a hook-up with the Yakuza?’

`Not that I know of.’

`But if they moved into Britain…?’

'They'd be trying to control drugs and prostitution. They'd be laundering money.’

Ways to launder money: through legitimate businesses such as-country clubs and the like; by swopping dirty money for casino chips at an establishment like the Morvena.