Ian Rankin: Set in Darkness

‘Two of you,’ Cafferty mused. ‘That means corroboration.’

Rebus turned to Siobhan. ‘Go wait outside.’ She didn’t move. ‘Please.’ She hesitated, then turned and stomped off.

‘A fiery one that.’ Cafferty laughed, sitting forward, face suddenly showing concern. ‘How are you, Strawman? Thought I was going to lose you there.’

‘Where’s Hutton?’

‘Christ, man, how should I know?’

Rebus turned to the bodyguard. ‘Go to Warriston Crem, check the name Robert Hill. Cafferty’s minders tend to live short lives.’ The man stared at him blankly.

‘Has Barry not turned up, then?’ Cafferty was feigning amazement.

‘You killed him. Now you step into his shoes.’ Rebus paused. ‘Which was the plan all along?’

Cafferty just smiled.

‘What’s Bryce Callan going to say?’ Rebus watched the smile broaden still further. He began nodding. ‘Bryce okayed it? This was where it was always headed?’

Cafferty spoke in an undertone. ‘You can’t go around bumping off people like Roddy Grieve. It’s bad for everyone.’

‘But you can murder Barry Hutton?’

‘I saved your neck, Strawman. You owe me.’

Rebus pointed a finger. ‘You took me there. You set the whole trap, and Hutton walked into it.’

‘You both walked into it.’ Cafferty was almost preening. Rebus wanted to stick a fist in his face, and Cafferty knew it. He looked around at the elegant surroundings. Chintz and antimacassars, chandeliers and sound-deadening carpets. ‘Wouldn’t do, really now, would it?’

‘I’ve been thrown out of better places than this.’ Rebus glowered. ‘Where is he?’

Cafferty sat back. ‘You know the story about the Old Town? Reason it’s so narrow and steep, there’s some big serpent buried under it.’ He waited for Rebus to get it; decided to supply the punchline himself. ‘Room for more than one snake under the Old Town, Strawman.’

The Old Town: the building works around Holyrood — Queensberry House, Dynamic Earth, Scotsman offices... hotels and apartments. So many building sites. Lots of good, deep holes, filling with concrete...

‘We’ll look for him,’ Rebus said. Cafferty’s words in the garden of remembrance: where there’s no body, there’s no crime .

Cafferty shrugged. ‘You do that. And be sure to hand your clothes in as evidence. Maybe his blood’s mixed in there with yours. Maybe it’ll be you who has to do some explaining. Me, I was here all evening.’ He waved an arm casually. ‘Ask around. It was a hell of a party, a hell of a night. By next Hogmanay... well, who knows what we’ll all be doing? We’ll have our parliament by then, and this... this will all be history.’

‘I don’t care how long it takes,’ Rebus warned. But Cafferty just laughed. He was back, and in charge of his Edinburgh, and that was all that mattered...

I’d like to thank the following: Historic Scotland, for providing a tour of Queensberry House; The Scottish Office Constitution Group; Professor Anthony Busuttil, University of Edinburgh; the staff at Edinburgh Mortuary; staff at St Leonard’s police station and Lothian and Borders Police HQ; the Old Manor Hotel, Lundin Links (especially Alistair Clark and George Clark).

The following books and guides were helpful: ‘Who’s Who in the Scottish Parliament’ (a supplement provided with Scotland on Sunday , the issue of 16 May 1999); Crime and Criminal Justice in Scotland by Peter Young (Stationery Office, 1997); A Guide to the Scottish Parliament edited by Gerry Hassan (Stationery Office, 1999); The Battle for Scotland by Andrew Marr (Penguin, 1992).

The lyrics to ‘Wages Day’ are by Ricky Ross. The track can be found on the Deacon Blue albums Raintown and Our Town: the Greatest Hits .

I’d also like to thank Angus Calder for permission to quote from his poem ‘Love Poem’, and Alison Hendon, who brought another poem to my attention and gifted me the title of this book.