Ian Rankin - Exit Music

'Those straws I mentioned, Rebus, I'm losing count of them.'

'They're not straws, Cafferty, they're chains, and guess who it is they seem to be winding themselves around?'

'Steady,' Cafferty cautioned. 'With language like that, you might want to start writing a bit of poetry yourself.'

'Problem with that is, the only words I can find to rhyme with “Cafferty” are “evil” and “bastard”.'

The gangster grinned, showing off expensive dental work. Then he sniffed the air and strolled to the far side of the bridge. 'I grew up not too far from here, did you know that?'

'I thought it was Craigmillar.'

'But I'd an aunt and uncle in Gorgie, they looked after me when my mum was working. Dad legged it a month before I was due.' He turned towards Rebus. “You didn't grow up in the city, did you?'

'Fife,' Rebus stated.

Tou won't remember the abattoir then. Occasionally, you'd get a bull making a break for it. The alarm would sound and us kids would be kept indoors until the sharpshooter arrived. I remember one time, I watched from the window. Bloody great beast it was, with snot and steam belching from it, kicking up its legs at the thought of all that bloody freedom.' He paused. 'Right up until the moment the gunman went down on one knee, got his aim right, and shot it in the head. Those legs buckled and the gleam left its eyes. For a time there, I used to think that was me – the last free bull.'

Tou're full of bull all right,' Rebus retorted.

'Thing is,' Cafferty said with a smile that was almost ru0ful, 'nowadays, I think maybe it's you, Rebus. You're bucking and kicking and snorting, because you can't deal with the idea of me being legit.'

'That's because “idea” is as far as it gets.' He paused, nicking the remains of his cigarette into the water. 'Why the hell did you bring me here, Cafferty?'

The gangster shrugged. 'Not too many chances left for these little tete-a-tetes. And when Sergei told me you'd followed us that night… well, maybe I was just looking for the opportunity.'

'I'm touched.'

'I heard on the news that DI Starr's been shipped in to head up the inquiry. They've already put you out to pasture, haven't they?

Just as well the pension's healthy…'

'And all of it clean.'

'Siobhan's got her chance to shine now.'

'She's a match for you, Cafferty.'

'Let's wait and see.'

'Just so long as I've got a ringside seat.'

Cafferty's attention had shifted to the high brick wall, beyond which lay the development site. 'Nice talking to you, Rebus. Enjoy that walk into the sunset.'

But Rebus didn't budge. 'Have you heard about the Russian guy in London? Got to be careful who you play with, Cafferty.'

'No one's about to poison me, Rebus. Sergei and me, we see things the same way. Few years from now, Scotland's going to be independent – not a shred of doubt about that. Sitting on thirty years' worth of North Sea oil and God alone knows how much more in the Atlantic. Worst-case scenario, we do a deal with Westminster and end up with eighty or ninety per cent of the cut.' Cafferty gave a slow shrug. 'And then we'll go and spend the money on our usual leisure pursuits – booze, drugs and gambling. Put a supercasino in every city, and watch the profits stack up…'

'Another of your silent invasions, eh?'

'Soviets always did think there'd be revolution in Scotland. Won't matter to you, though, will it? You'll be out of the game for good.'

Cafferty gave a little wave of the hand and turned his back.

Rebus stood his ground a bit longer but knew there was little to be gained from sticking around. All the same, he hesitated. The Cafferty of the other evening had been an actor on a stage, with props including the car and the driver. Tonight's Cafferty was different, more reflective. Lots of faces in Cafferty's wardrobe… a mask for every occasion. Rebus considered offering him a lift home, but why the hell would he want to do that? Instead he turned and headed back to his car, lighting another cigarette on the way. The gangster's story about the bull stayed with him. Was that how retirement would feel, all that strange and disconcerting freedom, but brutally short?

'No Leonard Cohen for you when we get home,' he chided himself.

You're morbid enough as it is.'

I Instead, he played Rory Gallagher: 'Big Guns' and 'Bad Penny', 'Kickback City' and 'Sinnerboy1. The whisky slipped down, just the three large ones with about as much water again. And after Rory came Jackie Leven, and Page and Plant after that. He thought about calling Siobhan, then decided against it. Let her have a bit

of a break from John Rebus's worries. He hadn't eaten anything but didn't feel hungry.

When his phone rang, he'd probably been asleep for the best part of an hour. The whisky glass was still there on the arm of the chair, his hand gripped around it.

'Didn't spill a drop, John,' he congratulated himself, hoisting his phone in his free hand.

'Hiya, Shiv,' he said, having recognised her number. 'Checking up on me?'

'John…' Her tone of voice said it all: something had happened, something bad.

'Spit it out,' he told her, rising from the chair.

'Cafferty's in intensive care.' She left it at that for a moment.

Rebus clawed his free hand through his hair, then realised he shouldn't have a free hand. The glass had dropped to the carpet, meaning he now had splashes of whisky on his shoes.

'What happened?' he asked.

'Precisely the question I was about to ask you,' she blurted out.

'What the hell happened at the canal?'

'We just talked.'

'Talked?'

'Cross my heart.'

'Must've been a pretty robust exchange, then, seeing how he's got a fractured skull. Plus broken bones, contusions…'

Rebus's eyes narrowed. 'He was found by the canal?'

'Too right he was.'

'Is that where you are now?'

'Shug Davidson took the trouble to call me.'

'I'll be there in five minutes.'

'No, you won't… you've been drinking, John. Your voice goes nasal after the first four or five.'

'So send a car for me.'

'John…'

'Just send a fucking car, SiobhanP He ran the hand through his hair again, pulling at it. I'm being set up here, he told himself.

'John, how can Shug let you near? Far as he's concerned, you're going to be a suspect. If he lets a suspect walk into a crime scene…'

Tfes, fine, absolutely.' Rebus was looking at his watch. 'It's about three hours since I left him. When was the body found?'

'Two and a half hours ago.'

'That's not good.' His mind was whirling. He started towards the

kitchen, thinking maybe a gallon of tap water would help. 'Did you send Calum Stone on that wild goose chase?'

'Yes.'

'Shit.'

'He's here right now, along with his partner.'

Rebus squeezed his eyes shut. 'Don't speak to them.'

'Bit late for that. I was talking to Shug when they arrived. Stone introduced himself, and guess what his first words to me were?'

'Something along the lines of, “Gosh, you sound just like the woman who sent me on a wild goose chase to a petrol station in Granton”?'

'That's about the size of it.'

'All you can do is tell the truth, Shiv – I ordered you to make that call.'

'And you were on suspension at the time – something knew fine well.'

'Christ, I'm sorry, Siobhan…' The tap was still running, the sink almost full. Maybe eight inches deep. He'd known men drown in far, far less.

When the taxi dropped him at the Leamington Lift Bridge, she was waiting, arms folded, for all the world like the bouncer outside some exclusive club.

“You can't be here,' she reiterated through gritted teeth.

'I know,' he said. Plenty of onlookers: people who'd been heading home from a night out; locals from the neighbouring tenements; even a couple from one of the canal boats. They stood on deck, holding mugs of steaming liquid.