raised that shovel, it flashed through my mind that you were going to let it happen.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Magrath dead and Christie on a murder charge?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, that would have been a result too, I suppose.’
‘And it’s results that matter rather than how you get them.’
‘Used to be the way.’
‘Not now, though?’
‘Maybe not so much.’ He leaned back in his seat. ‘That grave wasn’t meant for Magrath, you know.’
‘No?’
Rebus shook his head. ‘It was Thomas Robertson’s. When I saw him in the hospital, I happened to mention a shallow grave. It spooked him, and now we know why — he’d been taken there and shown it. Scared him stupid. .’
‘But Christie let him go.’
Rebus nodded. ‘Darryl’s not a killer, Siobhan. Maybe one of his boys would have taken care of Magrath, but whacking the ground with that shovel was as close as Darryl was going to get.’ He seemed lost in thought for a moment. ‘You know what this means, though?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘It means I was right all along about that bloody song.’
He flicked the cigarette away as Clarke turned the key in the ignition.
‘What song?’ she was asking as Rebus began to wind the window up.
