`Surveillance isn't always one-way,' he said, knowing now who'd taught Telford the skill. A little later he asked about the scrapyard.
`He owns it. He's got a compacter, but before the cars get squashed he likes to play with them. And if you cross him, he welds your seatbelt shut.’
She looked at him. `You become part of his game.’
Never get personally involved: it was the golden rule. And practically every case he worked, Rebus broke it. He sometimes felt that the reason he became so involved in his cases was that he had no life of his own. He could only live through other people.
Why had he become so involved with Candice? Was it down to her physical resemblance to Sammy? Or was it that she had seemed to need him? The way she'd clung to his leg that first day… Had he wanted – just for a little while – to be someone's knight in shining armour, the real thing, not some mockery? John Rebus: complete bloody sham. He phoned Claverhouse from his car, filled him in. Claverhouse told him not to worry. `Thanks for that,' Rebus said. `I feel a whole lot better now. Listen, who's Telford 's supplier?’
`For what? Dope?’
`Yes.’
`That's the real joker in the pack. I mean, he does business with Newcastle, but we can't be certain who's dealing and who's buying.’
`What if Telford 's selling?’
`Then he's got a line from the continent.’
`What do Drugs Squad say?’
`They say not. If he's landing the stuff from a boat, it means transporting it from the coast. Much more likely he's buying from Newcastle. Tarawicz has the contacts in Europe.’
`Makes you wonder why he needs Tommy Telford at all…’
`John, do yourself a favour, switch off for five minutes.’
'Colquhoun seems to be keeping his head down…’
`Did you hear me?’
`I'll talk to you soon.’
`Are you heading back?’
`In a manner of speaking.’
Rebus cut the call and drove.
11
'Strawman.,' said Morris Gerald Cafferty, as he was escorted into the room by two prison guards.
Earlier in the year, Rebus had promised Cafferty he would put a Glasgow gangster, Uncle Joe Toal, behind bars. It hadn't worked, despite Rebus's best efforts. Toal, pleading old age and illness, was still a free man, like a war criminal excused for senility. Ever since then, Cafferty had felt Rebus owed him.
Cafferty sat down, rolled his neck a few times, loosening it.
`So?’ he asked.
Rebus nodded for the guards to leave, waited in silence until they'd gone. Then he slipped a quarter-bottle of Bell 's from his pocket.
`Keep it,' Cafferty told him. `From the look of you, I'd say your need was greater than mine.’
Rebus put the bottle back in his pocket. `I've brought a message from Newcastle.’
Cafferty folded his arms. `Jake Tarawicz?’
Rebus nodded. `He wants you to lay off Tommy Telford.’
`What does he mean?’
`Come on, Cafferty. That bouncer who got stabbed, the dealer wounded… There's war breaking out.’
Cafferty stared at the detective. `Not my doing.’
Rebus snorted, but looking into Cafferty's eyes, he found himself almost believing.
`So who was it?’ he asked quietly.
`How do I know?’
`Nevertheless, war is breaking out.’
`That's as may be. What's in it for Tarawicz?’
`He does business with Tommy.’
`And to protect that, he needs to have me warned off by a cop?’
Cafferty was shaking his head. `You really buy that?’
`I don't know,' Rebus said.
`One way to finish this.’
Cafferty paused. `Take Telford out of the game.’
He saw the look on Rebus's face. `I don't mean top him, I mean put him away. That should be your job, Strawman.’
`I only came to deliver a message.’
`And what's in it for you? Something in Newcastle?’
`Maybe.’
`Are you Tarawicz's man now?’
`You know me better than that.’
`Do I?’
Cafferty sat back in his chair, stretched out his legs. `I wonder about that sometimes. I mean, it doesn't keep me awake at night, but I wonder all the same.’
Rebus leaned on the table. `You must have a bit salted away. Why can't you just be content with that?’
Cafferty laughed. The air felt charged; there might have been only the two of them left in the world. `You want me to retire?’
`A good boxer knows when to stop.’
`Then neither of us would be much cop in the ring, would we? Got any plans to retire, Strawman?’
Despite himself, Rebus smiled.
`Thought not. Do I have to say something for you to take back to Tarawicz?’
Rebus shook his head. `That wasn't the deal.’
`Well, if he does come asking, tell him to get some life insurance, the kind with death benefits.’
Rebus looked at Cafferty. Prison might have softened him, but only physically.
`I'd be a happy man if someone took Telford out of the game,' Cafferty went on. `Know what I mean, Strawman? It'd be worth a lot to me.’
Rebus stood up. `No deal,' he said. `Personally, I'd be happy if you wiped one another out. I'd be jumping for joy at ring-side.’
`Know what happens at ring-side?’
Cafferty rubbed at his temples. `You tend to get spattered with blood.’
`As long as it's someone else's.’
The laughter came from deep within Cafferty's chest. `You're not a spectator, Strawman. It's not in your nature.’
`And you're some kind of psychologist?’
`Maybe not,' said Cafferty. `But I know what gets people excited.’
Book Three
