Ian Rankin - The Complaints

Thursday morning, Fox woke up to a text from Caroline Stoddart.

Feeling better?

As a matter of fact, he was. The swelling was starting to go down, and his palms only stung a little when he rubbed them together. His chin was okay, so long as he didn’t touch it. He reckoned he might postpone shaving that particular spot for another day or two. As for his back, it hurt when he twisted or leaned too far in one direction, but it was manageable, so he texted her back:

Yes.

Her next and final text told him to be at Fettes at ten. Fox sent a message of his own to Jamie Breck, letting him know he’d be tied up until lunchtime. Breck called back immediately.

‘Is it Stoddart?’

‘The one and only.’

‘Do you know what you’re going to say?’

‘I’m going to reiterate that I had nothing to do with Vince’s death and that none of this is your fault.’

‘It’s a plan, I suppose. What about afterwards?’

‘Thought I might go speak to Ernie Wishaw.’

‘Why?’

‘He’s a councillor, isn’t he? Maybe I’ve got a problem I want him to help me with.’ Fox paused. ‘No point you being there, Jamie.’

Breck gave a snort. ‘Try and stop me.’

‘Haven’t you got a game of Quidnunc to be playing?’

‘I’m the one who knows about Wishaw – or had you forgotten?’

‘But you’ve never met him?’

‘No.’

‘It’s risky, Jamie – if word gets back to Stoddart or Giles…’

‘If you’re going, I’m going,’ Breck stated. ‘End of story.’

But first there was the little matter of Fettes and the Grampian Complaints. The three officers – Stoddart, Wilson and Mason – assumed positions as before. When Stoddart saw the state of Fox’s face, she stopped what she was doing.

‘What happened to you?’

‘I fell down the stairs.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Isn’t that usually your sister’s excuse?’

‘At least it means I wasn’t shitting you yesterday.’ Fox accepted the clip-on microphone from Mason and fixed it to his shirt before sitting down.

‘I suppose not,’ Stoddart was saying in reply to Fox’s remark. ‘But I was just about to congratulate you…’

‘On what?’

‘Not getting into any more trouble in the interim.’ She paused. ‘Now I’m not so sure.’

Fox leaned forward a little in his chair, though the effort cost him a twang of pain. ‘You calling me a liar, Inspector Stoddart?’ he asked accusingly.

‘No,’ she answered, sifting through her paperwork. Fox ran his fingers down the laminated visitor’s pass that hung around his neck.

‘Any news from the Faulkner inquiry?’ he asked innocently.

‘I wouldn’t know.’ She glanced up from her work. ‘Why did you attack DS Dickson?’

‘I was emotionally fragile.’

‘Would you mind repeating that?’

‘My sister had just lost her partner,’ he was happy to explain. ‘That had an effect on me, which I hadn’t reckoned with. It was only afterwards that I realised the force had made a mistake.’

‘The force?’

‘In not cancelling my duties and making me take a few days’ compassionate leave.’

Stoddart sat back in her chair. ‘You’re shifting the blame?’

Fox shrugged. ‘I’m just saying. But how come you were watching me, Inspector? Who was it ordered the surveillance, and what story did they use?’

Stoddart gave a cold smile. ‘That’s confidential information.’

‘I’m glad to hear it – too many leaks around here for my liking…’ He sat back, mimicking her posture.

‘Shall we get started?’ she asked.

‘Ready when you are,’ Fox told her.

An hour and a half later, he was handing his pass back to Frank on the front desk, grateful not to have bumped into anyone he knew – it would only have meant lying about his bumps and bruises. On the other hand, Tony Kaye, Annie Inglis and the others would probably find out anyway. Fettes was like that. On his way to his car, Fox took a call on his old mobile. It was Jude, just wanting a chat.

‘How you doing, sis?’ he asked her.

‘I’m okay.’

‘Are your pals still rallying round?’

‘Everybody’s been great.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘How about Dad – have you seen him?’

‘I’m probably in his bad books as well…’

‘I didn’t say you were in my bad books,’ she chided him.

‘I’ll try to visit at the weekend. Maybe we could take Dad out somewhere.’ Fox was behind the steering wheel by now. ‘Any news of them releasing the body?’

‘Nobody’s told me anything – could you maybe put in a word?’

‘I don’t see why not – everybody on the team loves me to bits.’

‘Are you being sarcastic, Malcolm?’

‘Maybe just a little.’ He started the ignition. ‘You sure you’re okay?’

‘I think I sound better than you do, actually.’

‘You’re probably right. I’ll ring you tomorrow if I can.’

He ended the call and put the car into first. He was just easing his foot off the clutch when his new phone rang. He exhaled loudly and answered.

‘Where are you?’ The voice sounded breathless.

‘Tony, is that you?’

‘Where the hell are you?’ Tony Kaye growled.

‘I’m on Lothian Road.’ The car was exiting its parking bay.

‘You’re rubbish at this game, Foxy. I’ve been lying to my wife since the morning after the honeymoon…’

‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at.’ Fox almost dropped the phone when a body flung itself against the front of the Volvo. He slammed on the brakes. ‘Stupid bastard!’

Tony Kaye had righted himself and stood with his hands cupped to his chest, trying to get his breathing back under control. His mobile was clutched in his right hand, his tongue lolling from his mouth. Fox left the car running and got out.

‘Can’t remember when I last ran that far,’ his friend was spluttering. ‘Egg-and-spoon race probably… last year of primary school.’ Kaye tried to spit, but the long thread of saliva just hung there until he wiped it away with a handkerchief. He took a few more gulps of air. ‘I cheated, mind – used chewing gum to fix the egg to the spoon…’

‘You couldn’t have heard already,’ Fox was saying.

‘Wildfire,’ Kaye was able to gasp. ‘So who did it and why didn’t you tell me?’

‘First explain to me how you know.’

‘Bumped into Stoddart’s boys in the toilet.’ Kaye paused, and Fox knew what he wanted.

‘I was jumped,’ Fox duly obliged.

‘When was this?’

‘Night before last.’

‘Thanks for the heads-up.’ Kaye sounded genuinely slighted. ‘Where did all this happen?’

‘Outside a sauna on the Cowgate. The inquiry got word that a cab dropped Vince Faulkner nearby. I was retracing his steps.’

Kaye was studying Fox’s injuries. ‘Whoever it was let you off lightly.’

Fox gave a twitch of the head in acknowledgement. ‘Anyway… I’m touched by your show of concern.’

‘I was hoping for something a bit more gruesome.’ Kaye tried to sound peeved. ‘You know… something I could post on YouTube…’

‘You’re all heart, Sergeant Kaye. Anything happening I should know about?’

Kaye gave a shrug. ‘McEwan seemed to think there might be a job for us in the north-east…’

‘He mentioned it to me a couple of weeks back. It’s been given to Strathclyde, right?’

Kaye stared at him. ‘How do you know that?’

‘McEwan told me. Shame, too – I’d have liked some ammo to tease Stoddart and her boys with…’ Fox broke off. Kaye could see he was thinking of something.