Ian Rankin - Rather Be the Devil

‘Lip-reading, John,’ Rebus muttered. ‘There’s a hobby you could take up.’ He unlocked the Saab and got in, turning up the heat. His Marchmont flat was only five minutes away. Brillo would be needing a walk.

Their meeting with Darryl Christie had been arranged for seven, but then changed by Christie to eight. When they’d arrived at his door, however, his mother was ready with an apology that Darryl was ‘a bit busy’ and could they come back in another hour?

They returned to their two cars, parked kerbside. Fox waited a minute or two before opening the passenger-side door of Clarke’s Astra.

‘Does it really make sense for us to sit in separate cars?’

‘Up to you,’ Clarke said. But she didn’t look exactly welcoming as he climbed in. She busied herself with her phone while Fox stared through the windscreen at his surroundings.

‘Thought I just saw my namesake,’ he eventually offered.

Clarke glanced up. ‘They do get foxes here.’ As if on cue, the security lights came on outside Christie’s neighbour’s house. A lean shape could be seen stalking past.

‘Why do you think they chose this spot? Whoever thumped Darryl, I mean — why outside his actual house?’

‘Doesn’t need to be any real reason.’

‘Is his address public knowledge?’

‘I wouldn’t have thought so.’

‘Which might narrow things down a bit.’

‘It might,’ Clarke conceded. After a further fifteen seconds, she gave up the pretence of being busy on her phone, and half turned towards him instead. ‘But I’m more interested in why he was singled out in the first place.’

‘I went to his betting shops this afternoon.’

‘Oh?’

‘Just for a look-see.’

‘Christine told me she’d copied you in on his various businesses. Mind if I ask why you zeroed in on them rather than any of his other interests?’

‘Maybe they were at the top of the list.’

‘They weren’t, though, were they?’

Fox considered for a moment. ‘HMRC are interested in him. They think he’s laundering money.’

‘You mentioned that in Page’s office.’

‘If he’s cleaning up cash for various gangs from all over the country, any one of them could have taken against him.’

‘For short-changing them?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What if I throw Cafferty’s name into the ring?’

‘Wouldn’t put anything past him. But he’d probably only make a move if he thought Darryl was weakened by something.’

‘Such as?’

Fox shrugged. ‘Maybe we’ll get an inkling when we talk to Darryl.’

‘ I’ll be doing the talking, Malcolm. You’re there to listen.’

‘Understood.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Is this us thawing out here?’

‘Maybe a little. Have you asked Gartcosh about intelligence sharing?’

‘They’re mulling it over.’

‘Nice to feel we’re all part of the same big happy family...’ Clarke broke off and watched as Gail McKie padded down the path, opening the gate and making for the Astra. Clarke slid her window down, and McKie’s face appeared in the gap.

‘He’s ready for you,’ she said, turning back towards the house.

‘Right then,’ Clarke said to Fox, sliding the window closed and pulling the key from the ignition.

McKie was waiting for them inside the front door. ‘He’s in the living room,’ she said. ‘Told me not to bother offering a drink — you won’t be staying long.’

‘Are your other two sons around for a quick chat after?’ Clarke enquired. McKie shook her head.

‘Out with mates.’

‘That’s a pity.’

‘They’ve really nothing to say.’

‘They need to tell me that for themselves.’

Clarke pushed open the door and stepped into the living room. Flower-patterned sofa, almost the entire floor covered with a huge colourful rug, something Persian or Indian. Flowers in vases on occasional tables, and seated in the very centre of the room on a dining chair fetched from elsewhere, Darryl Christie. He was dressed in a shell suit and gleaming trainers, but looked stiff and pained. His nose had been strapped, the eyes still puffy and bruised.

‘How are you?’ Clarke asked.

‘I’ve felt better.’ He spoke quietly, as if each word hurt.

‘Cracked ribs, I hear.’

‘They’ve got me in some sort of corset thing.’ His eyes had settled on Fox, who stood hands in pockets at Clarke’s shoulder.

‘You’re looking a lot better than last time we met,’ Christie commented. Fox’s face remained stony. ‘If you’re wondering about the dining chair, it’s better for me than an armchair. But go ahead and make yourselves comfortable.’

They settled side by side on the sofa. Christie lifted a hand slowly, rubbing it across his hair, hair that needed a wash. There was stubble on his chin and cheeks, and the knuckles of his left hand were grazed.

‘Lost a tooth, too,’ he told them. ‘Hence the whistling.’ He tried for a grin, so they could see the gap.

‘We’ve asked up and down the street,’ Clarke said. ‘Nobody saw or heard anything, and the few bits of CCTV we’ve collected don’t seem to have caught whoever did it. That’s why we’re hoping you can help.’

‘Sorry to disappoint. Whoever it was, they were lying in wait, maybe round the back of the house or the side of the garage. Security light was triggered when I drove in, so that didn’t alert me. They came up behind me and hit me across the head. I went down and was in the Land of Nod before they got to work.’

‘You think it was a pro?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘Leads me to my next question — any idea who might have it in for you?’

‘I’ve not a single enemy in the world, DI Clarke.’

‘Not even Big Ger Cafferty?’ Fox broke in, earning a stern sideways glance from Clarke.

‘It wasn’t Cafferty — not in the flesh. I’d have heard him wheezing with the effort.’

‘You reckon one assailant or two?’ Clarke asked.

‘One would have done the job. I’m not the brawniest. Last time I saw a gym was high school.’

‘Fallen out with any associates recently?’

The question had come from Fox. Christie looked at him. ‘Know why I stopped travelling with a posse? It was because I didn’t need them. Like I say, no enemies.’

‘Plus everyone knows that if they touch you, they’re also messing with Joe Stark and his outfit. I’m surprised he’s not hopped over from Glasgow with grapes and Lucozade.’

‘Joe had nothing to do with this.’ Christie shifted in his chair, his mouth twisting at a sudden stab of pain.

‘We know about your car tyres and the bin being set on fire,’ Clarke stated. ‘If this is an individual who’s out to get you, they’re probably not going to stop. Best-case scenario: they’re just trying to put a scare on you for some reason.’

‘That’s a real comfort, DI Clarke.’

‘You need to think about your family as well as yourself, Darryl.’

‘I never stop thinking about my family!’

‘Then you might want to move them out for the duration.’

Christie nodded slowly. ‘I might just do that, thanks.’

‘And you may not think you need a posse, but one or two bodies wouldn’t go amiss — close by you through the day and sentry duty here at night. We’ll have patrol cars tour the neighbourhood at regular intervals, at least for a day or two.’

Christie kept nodding. ‘It’s almost as if you care,’ he said eventually, eyes flitting from Clarke to Fox.

‘Just doing our job,’ Clarke stated. ‘Though without your cooperation, that may not be quite enough to stop another attack.’

‘Or even an escalation,’ Fox added.

‘I thought I was cooperating?’ Christie pretended to complain.