Иэн Рэнкин - In a House of Lies

‘You can’t be here,’ Sutherland stated. ‘We’ve a suspect and his solicitor along the hall; if she gets wind that anyone can just walk in off the street...’

Rebus held up a hand to say he understood. ‘Just wanted a word with Siobhan and she’s not been picking up messages.’

‘I’ve been a bit busy, John. Can it wait?’

‘Only take five minutes,’ Rebus persisted.

‘Outside then,’ she eventually conceded.

They headed downstairs in silence, through the reception area and on to the pavement. Clarke sucked some air into her lungs, shaking her head at Rebus’s offer of gum.

‘You’ve got someone?’ he asked. ‘The farmer I put you on to?’

She nodded and sketched the morning out for him.

‘In which case,’ he said, ‘my news can wait.’

‘You sure?’

He nodded.

‘It’s about Ellis Meikle, though?’

Another nod.

‘And is it good news?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘You don’t sound very certain.’

‘I was going to say we should go have a chat with the uncle, but it might be best if I did that myself. You’re up to your eyes as it is.’

‘I don’t need to be there?’ She watched him shake his head. ‘Did you at least manage to have a bit of fun, John?’

‘Fun?’

‘Playing detective again, I mean.’

‘All the fun in the world, Siobhan.’ Rebus stretched out an arm. ‘It’s just one huge amusement park out there, happy families everywhere you look.’

She looked like she was struggling to think what to say, so Rebus patted her on the arm and told her to get back inside. She started to obey, but paused.

‘Remember that still centre you told me about?’ she said. ‘That’s how the interview room feels to me right now.’

Rebus nodded slowly before crossing the road to his waiting car. Instead of turning the ignition, he just sat there chewing, staring into space.

‘Families, eh?’ he muttered to himself. He was thinking of the Meikles, but of cops, too. One big unhappy, dysfunctional family. Steele had told him that it was ugly when cops ratted on fellow officers, because it was like a betrayal of family. Certainly that was the way it had been in Rebus’s day. You covered up for the faults and foibles of your colleagues. Many a time a patrol car or van had come to the Oxford Bar to take him home. He’d wake up on his bed fully dressed, no idea who had got him up the two flights of stairs or how they’d managed it. Nothing was ever said — that was just how it was with families. Ellis Meikle reckoned he was where he needed to be. His father meantime was working hard at providing Billie with a settled home life. What right did Rebus have to interfere? A result had been achieved, and it seemed to suit everyone — with the possible exception of Dallas Meikle.

Yes, Dallas Meikle.

The next person Rebus needed to speak with.

Sian Grant was in the corridor between the interview room and the MIT office, Phil Yeats alongside her. Clarke came to a stop in front of them.

‘My client has a name he’d like to give you,’ the lawyer said.

‘Go ahead.’

‘On the understanding that you acknowledge you are receiving his full cooperation and that this will be taken into account in any future proceedings.’

‘It will.’ Clarke was almost holding her breath. The lawyer handed over a scrap of paper. Clarke looked at the name written on it. ‘Phil,’ she said, ‘take Ms Grant back to her client. The interview will restart in a couple of minutes.’ Then she walked into the MIT office and over to Sutherland’s desk, holding the scrap of paper in front of her. Sutherland looked up from the call he was making to the fiscal’s office.

‘Glenn Hazard,’ she said. ‘Aka Graeme Hatch.’

‘Brand’s PR guy?’ Sutherland had lifted the phone away from his face.

‘Brand’s PR guy,’ Siobhan Clarke confirmed. ‘We need to let DCS Mollison know.’

Sutherland nodded thoughtfully. ‘You do it,’ he told her. ‘Explain to him how the dots got joined. Try not to talk down your own role.’

Their eyes met as Clarke smiled.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook with ACU, mind.’

‘Oh, I’ve got a few plans of my own for them,’ Clarke said, turning away to make the call.

‘I’m due at work in an hour,’ Dallas Meikle said, recognising the figure on his doorstep.

‘This won’t take that long,’ Rebus assured him. ‘Is Ellis’s mum home?’

‘Aye.’

‘Then maybe we could talk somewhere else.’ He tugged on Brillo’s lead, confident that, even untethered, Dallas Meikle would follow.

Rebus was on the bench in the play park by the time Meikle caught up. He offered him gum but Meikle shook his head and gave Brillo’s head a firm rub. Then, having decided that neither man nor dog was about to bite, he eased himself down next to Rebus.

‘I’ve done what I can,’ Rebus began, staring out across the park. ‘I’ve re-read everything in the files, talked to a few people, visited Saughton twice.’

‘And?’

‘And in doing so, Siobhan Clarke has kept her side of the bargain.’

‘So what have you found?’

Rebus shook his head slowly. ‘That’s between Ellis and me. He’ll tell you if he wants to; maybe one day that’ll happen.’

‘You got the truth from him, though?’

‘I got most of the story, I think.’

‘But you won’t tell me?’

‘I don’t remember that being part of your deal with DI Clarke.’ Rebus turned his gaze to Dallas Meikle. ‘You wanted the case re-examined and that’s what I’ve done. Some would have skimmed the evidence and court transcripts — I did a lot more than that. Some of the stuff I found out, you probably don’t want to know — might make things a bit difficult between you and Ellis’s mum.’ He paused, expecting Meikle to say something. When he didn’t, Rebus angled his head slightly. ‘Except maybe she’s already let you in on at least one of her secrets. Aye, probably after I called her out on it. How does it feel, knowing Billie’s own mum was bullying her online?’ Meikle’s expression darkened but he kept his mouth shut. ‘Fair enough,’ Rebus eventually said, ‘but now you need to do the right thing.’ He paused again. ‘And remember this — Siobhan could have reported you. If she had, you’d be in the middle of becoming a court transcript yourself.’

‘That’ll happen anyway, won’t it? By handing over those two cops, I’m condemning myself.’

‘Not if you say you took it straight to the authorities; not if you say you’d never got round to making any anonymous calls.’

‘Making it my word against theirs.’

‘How did they get her mobile number and home address to you?’

‘Walked into the bar and handed them over.’

‘Still got the bit of paper?’ Rebus watched the man nod. ‘CCTV in the pub?’ A further nod. ‘Suddenly it’s not just your word against theirs. Idiots even told you who they were.’

‘Told me not to use a traceable phone — suggested one of the call boxes near the pub. Told me not to say anything during the calls. But they wanted to know when she started sounding rattled. And if I didn’t think it was working, I could always pay her a visit.’

‘So you had to have some way of contacting them...?’

Meikle dug a business card from his back pocket, DS Brian Steele’s name on it along with his address at ACU and the Police Scotland crest, with the force’s motto beneath — Semper Vigilo , ‘Always Vigilant’.

‘Know what those words mean?’ Rebus asked, pointing them out to Meikle.

‘Not much cop at languages.’

‘Ask Billie sometime; she might have the answer.’