Ian Rankin - A Question of Blood

She thought about this, then shook her head.

“Me neither,” Rebus said. She looked at him. “For one thing,” he went on, “how could he have known? Doesn’t look like he knew either of the victims. So how would he have been able to pick them out?” He watched her take this in. “Shooting’s a bit excessive, wouldn’t you say? And in such a public place… he’d have to’ve been mad with jealousy. Out of his mind with it.”

“So… what did happen?” she asked.

Rebus looked towards the doorway. Ormiston had returned from the cafeteria and was now being hugged by Claverhouse, who’d probably have lifted the larger man off his feet if he’d been able. Rebus caught a hissed “we did it,” followed by a cautious muttering from Hogan.

“I’m still not sure,” Rebus said, answering Teri’s question. “It’s a pretty good motive, which is why you’ve made DI Claverhouse a happy man.”

“You don’t like him, do you?” A smile flitted across her face.

“Don’t worry: the feeling’s entirely mutual.”

“When you clicked on Dark Entry…” She lowered her eyes again. “Was I doing anything in particular?”

Rebus shook his head. “The room was empty.” Didn’t want her to know he’d watched her sleeping. “Mind if I ask you something?” He looked towards the doorway again, checking that no one was listening. “Doug Brimson says he’s a family friend, but I get the feeling he’s not at the top of your hit parade?”

Her face sagged. “My mum’s having an affair with him,” she said dismissively.

“You sure?” She nodded, not making eye contact. “Does your dad know?”

Now she did look up, horror-struck. “He doesn’t need to know, does he?”

Rebus considered this. “Suppose not,” he decided. “How did you find out?”

“Woman’s intuition,” she said, with no trace of irony. Rebus sat back, deep in thought. He was thinking about Teri and Lee Herdman and Dark Entry, wondering if any or all of it was a way of getting back at the mother.

“Teri, you’re sure you’d no way of knowing who was watching you on the webcam? None of the other kids at school ever hinted…?”

She shook her head. “I get messages in my guest book, but never from anyone I know.”

“Are any of those messages ever… I don’t know… off the wall?”

“That’s the way I like them.” She angled her head slightly, trying for the persona of Miss Teri, but too late: Rebus had seen her as plain Teri Cotter, and that was who she’d remain. He stretched his own neck and back. “Tell you who I saw last night,” he said chattily.

“Who?”

“James Bell.”

“So?” Inspecting her black gloss fingernails.

“So I was wondering… that photo of you… do you remember? You palmed it that day we were in the pub on Cockburn Street.”

“It belonged to me.”

“I’m not saying it didn’t. I also seem to recall that as you lifted it, you were telling me how James used to turn up at Lee’s parties.”

“Does he say he didn’t?”

“On the contrary, the two of them seem to have known each other pretty well, wouldn’t you say?”

The three detectives-Claverhouse, Hogan and Ormiston-were coming back into the room. Ormiston was patting Claverhouse’s back, and with it his ego.

“He liked Lee,” Teri was saying, “no doubt about that.”

“But was it mutual?”

Her eyes narrowed. “James Bell… he could have pointed Renshaw and Jarvies out to Lee, couldn’t he?”

“Wouldn’t explain why Lee then shot him, too. Thing is…” Rebus knew he had seconds before the interview was wrenched away from him again. “That photo of you… you said it was taken on Cockburn Street. What I’m wondering is, who took it?”

She seemed to be looking for the purpose behind the question. Claverhouse was standing in front of them, clicking his fingers to let Rebus know it was time to relinquish the chair. Rebus kept his eyes on Teri as he rose slowly to his feet.

“James Bell?” he asked her. “Was that who it was?”

And she nodded, unable to think of any reason not to tell him.

“He came to see you in Cockburn Street?”

“He was taking shots of all of us-a school project…”

“What’s this?” Claverhouse said, bouncing down on to the chair with a grin.

“He was asking me about James Bell,” Teri told Claverhouse matter-of-factly.

“Oh, aye? What about him?”

“Nothing,” she said, sending a wink towards the retreating Rebus. Claverhouse twitched, turned in his seat, but Rebus offered nothing more than a smile and a shrug. When Claverhouse turned away again, Rebus made a downstroke in the air with his forefinger, letting Teri know he owed her one. He knew what Claverhouse would have done with the information: James Bell lends Lee Herdman a book, not realizing there’s a photo of Teri inside, maybe being used as a bookmark… Herdman finds it and feels jealous… It gave him a reason to wound James: not a gross enough infringement to merit killing him, and besides, James was a friend…

As it was, Claverhouse would be wrapping up the inquiry today. Straight to the assistant chief constable’s office to ask for his gold star. The Portakabin at Port Edgar Academy would be emptied, officers returned to their normal duties.

Rebus back under suspension.

And yet none of it really added up. Rebus knew that now. Knew, too, that something was staring him in the face. Then he looked at Teri Cotter, playing with her chain again, and he knew exactly what it was. Porn and drugs weren’t Rotterdam’s only businesses…

Rebus reached Siobhan in her car.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“The A90, heading for South Queensferry. What about you?”

“Sitting at a red light on Queensferry Road.”

“Driving and using your phone? The hands must be healing.”

“Getting there. What’ve you been up to?”

“Fairstone’s girlfriend.”

“Any joy?”

“Of a sort. What about you?”

“Sitting in on an interview with Teri Cotter. Claverhouse thinks he’s found his motive.”

“Oh yes?”

“Herdman was jealous because the two kids were logging on to Teri’s site.”

“And James Bell just happened to get in the way?”

“I’m sure that’s how Claverhouse will see it.”

“So what now?”

“Everything shuts down.”

“And Whiteread and Simms?”

“You’re right. They won’t like it.” He watched the light in front of him turn green.

“Because they’ll go away empty-handed?”

“Yes.” Rebus thought for a moment, holding the phone between jaw and shoulder as he changed up through the gears. Then: “So what’s waiting for you in Queensferry?”

“The barman at the Boatman’s, he’s Fox’s brother.”

“Fox?”

“Fairstone’s girlfriend.”

“Explaining why she was in the bar…”

“Yes.”

“So you’ve talked to her?”

“We exchanged a few pleasantries.”

“Did she say anything about Peacock Johnson, whether his falling-out with Fairstone had anything to do with her?”

“I forgot to ask.”

“You forgot…?”

“Things got a bit fraught. I thought maybe I’d ask her brother instead.”

“You reckon he’d know if she had a thing going with Peacock?”

“Don’t know till I ask.”

“Why don’t we hook up? I was planning a trip to the marina.”

“You want to go there first?”

“Then we can end the day with a well-earned drink.”

“I’ll see you at the boatyard then.”

She ended the call and came off the highway at the last off-ramp before the Forth Road Bridge. Drove down the hill into South Queensferry and turned left on Shore Road. Her phone trilled again.