Иэн Рэнкин - In a House of Lies

‘No.’

‘And as far as you know, Brian Steele wasn’t taxed with that job without your assistance?’

‘No.’

‘Any theories about the handcuffs?’

‘No.’

Clarke made an exasperated sound and turned to Crowther again. ‘Anything you want to add, DC Crowther?’

‘I’m just wondering if Detective Constable Edwards was ever dropped on his head as a baby.’

Edwards’s eyes drilled into Crowther’s, but the smile stayed in place. ‘You should mind your manners,’ he warned her. Then, pointing a chubby finger in Clarke’s direction: ‘You also don’t want to be hanging around with her. She’s got her hand so deep in a certain reporter’s pocket, she could probably fondle her arse.’

‘Tell Steele to get a better script-writer for next time,’ Clarke said. ‘One who can do jokes at the very least.’

Afterwards, Steele put his arm around Edwards’s shoulders as they walked back down the stairs, heads close together as they conferred. Clarke and Crowther stood at the top, watching. Neither man cast a backward glance.

‘Wasn’t that bad a line, actually,’ Clarke admitted. ‘If only more of our clothing had pockets...’

In the MIT room, Graham Sutherland was just finishing a phone call.

‘Bloody soil results won’t be in until tomorrow,’ he said, not managing to hide his frustration. ‘Lab has been all over the VW without finding anything new. Some of the vegetation that’s grown through the chassis doesn’t match what’s growing in the gully, but it’s just the usual bindweed and stuff that you’d find more or less anywhere in the lowlands. Means the car was sitting somewhere for a considerable period of time, long enough for the plant life to penetrate it from ground level.’ He had walked to the whiteboard and was looking at the photos of the boot’s interior. ‘Mould, spores, moss and plenty of dead bugs.’ He glanced towards Clarke. ‘An episode of CSI would have wrapped this up by now.’

‘Slightly bigger budget than us, I dare say.’

Sutherland just about managed a smile. ‘Anything from the ACU interviews?’

‘Just that they weren’t thrilled I was the one asking the questions — so thanks for that, Graham.’

‘Has that DVD arrived from Glasgow yet?’

‘On its way here in a car.’

‘If it does feature a similar set of handcuffs...’

She nodded. ‘More questions for Jackie Ness. We need to ask him about the break-in anyway.’

‘The break-in Sir Adrian says didn’t happen?’

‘Huston’s sticking to his version.’

‘Ness’s lawyer is going to be far from thrilled if we bring his man back in again.’

‘For about two minutes,’ Clarke conceded. ‘After which he’ll be booking a nice skiing holiday paid for by his client’s fees. Anyway, I really need to peruse the film first.’ She watched Sutherland nod his agreement. ‘There are also still a few interviews we’ve not done — I’m thinking of Cafferty, plus John Rebus.’

‘What exactly is it you think Cafferty will tell us?’

‘Sounds like he was closer to Jackie Ness than we thought. All we originally knew was that he’d put some money into Ness’s business. Then it turned out he’d actually watched a day’s filming. Now, he finds Larry Huston for Ness.’

‘Fine,’ Sutherland decided after a bit of thought. ‘Bring him in.’

‘And Rebus?’

‘What’s the one thing we’ve learned from putting questions to Steele and Edwards, Rawlston and Newsome?’ Clarke couldn’t think of an answer. ‘Precisely,’ Sutherland told her. ‘I doubt John Rebus will be any different.’

‘Been a while, Siobhan,’ Cafferty said, settling into his chair in the interview room. Then, turning towards Emily Crowther: ‘DI Clarke used to be one of our best customers at my club.’ He dug some cards from his pocket and slid them towards Crowther. ‘A few comps for you. The Devil’s Dram, it’s on Cowgate. Bring your friends — that’s what Siobhan here used to do.’

‘Back in the days before you owned it,’ Clarke snapped back.

‘Aye, you were happier when Darryl Christie was in charge.’ Cafferty folded his arms. He wore a shiny blue suit and a lemon-coloured shirt, open at the neck to display a profusion of silvered chest hair.

‘We have a few questions about Larry Huston,’ Clarke ploughed on.

‘Am I supposed to know him?’

‘He broke into a few safes for you back in the day.’

‘Oh aye?’

‘Including Adrian Brand’s.’

‘Is that right?’

‘We have a statement from him.’ Clarke pretended to study it for a moment. ‘You’d been asked by Jackie Ness to find someone and you put him in touch with Huston.’

‘And this is all a matter of record, is it? What does Jackie Ness say? Come to think of it, what does Sir Adrian say?’ A smile was slowly spreading across Cafferty’s face.

‘I don’t suppose you could put us in touch with Conor Maloney?’

‘Name sounds Irish.’

Clarke gave a theatrical sigh. ‘You can play as many games as you like, but you know we’ll never stop digging.’

‘Last I heard, Gartcosh had given up, fed up with their shovels hitting solid rock.’

‘Whatever was in that safe might have been of interest to Conor Maloney. A couple of days later, Stuart Bloom had disappeared off the face of the earth. You’re telling me there’s no connection?’

Cafferty turned his attention back to Crowther. ‘Siobhan learned her shtick from John Rebus, but she’ll never be quite his equal. Mind you, back when Rebus was on the force, interviews could end up a lot messier — blood to be wiped from the floor and the walls. Suspects tended to trip over their own feet and got suddenly clumsy around stairs. Nowadays you’re all scared you’ll end up on report.’ His eyes were on Clarke again. ‘Or being investigated by ACU.’

‘Who found nothing,’ Clarke felt obliged to reply.

‘Nothing they could make stick,’ Cafferty agreed. ‘Just like you and this Larry Huston story — you’re going to get nowhere with it. What are you going to do — charge me with being an accessory to a crime that never happened? Was it ever reported to the police? Did Brand ever put in an insurance claim?’

‘Which is interesting in itself, don’t you think? Maybe he was scared Maloney would find out about the theft. You knew, though, and maybe you passed the news along.’

‘Why would I do that?’

‘Just to be friendly with someone you thought could be useful to you.’

Cafferty shook his head. ‘I don’t blame you for trying, Siobhan, really I don’t, but bringing me here was never going to get you anywhere. What’s more, I think you always knew that, so why am I here? Rebus been whispering in your ear?’

‘Has he been whispering in yours? Seems to me you knew we’d be coming for you and you knew why.’

‘I’ve known the man longer than you have, Siobhan. We know he likes nothing better than playing both sides. It’s as true now as it was back then.’

‘What does that mean?’

Cafferty just shook his head again and began buttoning his suit jacket. ‘We done here? You’ve wasted enough of my time to make me irritated, so you can report back to Rebus that there’s that satisfaction at least.’

‘Do you think Conor Maloney had anything to do with Stuart Bloom’s death?’ Clarke had risen from her chair at the same time as him, her eyes locked on to his.

‘Maybe once upon a time I did,’ Cafferty admitted after a moment.

‘And now?’

‘He’d have made it more public, to make sure everyone got the message. A bomb under the chassis, that sort of thing. Whatever else Maloney is, he’s never been one for subtlety.’