Ian Rankin - Black and Blue

‘Did these come from Lawson Geddes?’ Rebus asked, handing them back.

‘I’ve no idea. They were just in with all the other Bible John junk.’ Ancram slipped them back into the file, counting them as he did so.

‘They’re all there,’ Rebus said. Jack Morton’s chair scraped the floor: he was checking how long till the tape had to be switched.

‘So,’ Ancram said, ‘we’ve got Geddes and Spaven serving together in the Scots Guards; we’ve got Geddes chasing Spaven during the Bible John inquiry — and getting booted off the case; then we wind forwards a few years and what do we have? Geddes still chasing Spaven, but this time for the murder of Elizabeth Rhind. And getting booted off the case again.’

‘Spaven definitely knew the victim.’

‘No argument there, Inspector.’ Pause: four beats. ‘ You knew one of the Johnny Bible victims — does it mean you killed her?’

‘Come up with her necklace in my flat and ask me again.’

‘Ah, well this is where it gets interesting, isn’t it?’

‘Oh good.’

‘You know the word serendipity?’

‘I pepper my speech with it.’

‘Dictionary definition: the ability to make happy chance finds. Useful word.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘And Lawson Geddes had the gift, didn’t he? I mean, you get an anonymous tip-off about a consignment of stolen clock-radios. So you hoof it over to a garage, no search warrant, no nothing, and what do you find? Leonard Spaven, the clock-radios, and a hat and shoulder-bag — both belonging to the murder victim. I’d call that a very happy chance find. Except it wasn’t chance, was it?’

‘We had a warrant.’

‘Signed retrospectively by a tame JP.’ Ancram smiled again. ‘You think you’re doing all right, don’t you? You think I’m doing all the talking, which means you’re saying nothing incriminating. Well listen, I’m talking because I want you to know where we stand. Afterwards, you’ll have every opportunity for rebuttal.’

‘I’ll look forward to that.’

Ancram referred to his notes. Rebus’s mind was still half on Borneo and those photographs: what the hell could they have to do with Bible John? He wished he’d looked at them a bit harder.

‘I’ve been reading your own version of events, Inspector,’ Ancram went on, ‘and I begin to see why you had your pal Holmes take a good look at them.’ He looked up. ‘That was the idea, wasn’t it?’

Rebus said nothing.

‘See, you weren’t quite a seasoned officer back then, for all Geddes had taught you. You wrote a good report, but you were too conscious of the lies you were telling and the gaps you were having to create. I’m good at reading between the lines, practical criticism if you like.’

Rebus had a picture in his mind: Lawson Geddes shivering and wild-eyed on his doorstep.

‘So here’s how I think it went. Geddes was following Spaven — out on a limb by this time; he’d been ordered off the case. He tracked him to the lock-up one day, waited until Spaven was gone and then broke in. Liked the look of what he saw, and decided to plant some evidence.’

‘No.’

‘So he breaks in again, only this time he has some of the victim’s stuff with him. Now, he didn’t get it from an evidence locker, because according to the records nobody removed a hat or a bag from the victim’s abode. So how did he get it? Two possibilities. One, he waltzed back into her home and took it. Two, he already had it on him, because right from the start he had the idea of fitting up Spaven.’

‘No.’

‘To the first or to the second?’

‘To both.’

‘You’ll stand by that?’

‘Yes.’

Ancram had been leaning further over the desk as he’d made each point. Slowly he sat back again, glanced at his watch.

‘Cigarette break?’ Rebus asked.

Ancram shook his head. ‘No, I think that’s enough for today. You made so many cock-ups in the course of that false report, it’s going to take me time to list them all. We’ll go through them next meeting.’

‘I’m excited already.’ Rebus got up and reached into a pocket for his cigarettes. Jack had switched off the recorder and ejected the tape. He handed it to Ancram.

‘I’ll have a copy made immediately and sent to you for verification,’ Ancram told Rebus.

‘Thanks.’ Rebus inhaled, wished he could hold his breath for ever. Some people, when they exhaled no smoke came out. He wasn’t that selfish. ‘One question.’

‘Yes?’

‘What am I supposed to tell my colleagues when I drag Jack here into the office with me?’

‘You’ll think of something. You’re a more practised liar these days.’

‘I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but thanks anyway.’ He made to leave.

‘A little birdie tells me you put the nut on a TV reporter.’

‘I tripped, fell into him.’

Ancram almost smiled. ‘Tripped?’ Waited till Rebus had nodded. ‘Well, it’s going to look good, isn’t it? They got the whole thing on video.’

Rebus shrugged. ‘This little birdie of yours... anyone in particular?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Well, you have your sources, don’t you? In the press, I mean. Jim Stevens for one. Nice little friendship the two of you have got.’

‘No comment, Inspector.’ Rebus laughed, turned away. ‘One more thing,’ Ancram said.

‘What?’

‘When Geddes was trying to pin the murder on Spaven, you interviewed some of Spaven’s friends and associates, including...’ Ancram made show of looking for the name in his notes. ‘Fergus McLure.’

‘What of it?’

‘Mr McLure’s recently deceased. I believe you went to see him the morning he died?’

Who’d been talking?

‘So?’

Ancram shrugged, looked satisfied. ‘Just another... coincidence. By the way, DCI Grogan called me this morning.’

‘It must be love.’

‘Do you know a pub in Aberdeen called the Yardarm?’

‘It’s down by the docks.’

‘Yes, it is. Ever been inside?’

‘Maybe.’

‘A drinker in there says definitely. You bought him a drink, talked about the rigs.’

The wee man with the heavy cranium. ‘So?’

‘So it shows you were at the docks the night before Vanessa Holden was murdered. Two nights in a row, Inspector. Grogan’s beginning to sound very edgy. I think he wants you back in his custody.’

‘Are you going to hand me over?’ Ancram shook his head. ‘No, you wouldn’t want that, would you?’

Rebus almost blew some smoke in Ancram’s face. Almost. Maybe he was more selfish than he thought...

‘That went as well as could be expected,’ Jack Morton said. He was in the driver’s seat, Rebus electing to sit in the front with him.

‘Only because you thought there’d be a bloodbath.’

‘I was trying to remember my first aid training.’

Rebus laughed, releasing tension. He had a headache.

‘Aspirin in the glove compartment,’ Jack told him. Rebus opened it. There was a little plastic bottle of Vittel there, too. He washed down three tablets.

‘Were you ever in the Scouts, Jack?’

‘I was a sixer in the Cubs, never made the transfer to Scouts. I had other hobbies by then. Are the Scouts still going?’

‘Last I heard.’

‘Remember Bob-a-Job week? You had to go round the neighbours, washing windows, digging their gardens. Then at the end, you handed all the cash over to Akela.’

‘Who promptly stuck half in his pocket.’

Jack looked at him. ‘There’s a touch of the cynic in you, isn’t there?’

‘Maybe just a touch.’

‘So where to now? Fort Apache?’

‘After what I’ve just been through?’