'But you knew it had happened?'
He nodded slowly. 'And did nothing about it – that's the way things were back then. Cafferty would've been dealing and not liking it that he was being undercut in Harry Goodyear's pub.'
He puffed out his cheeks and let the air burst from them before continuing. 'A while back, you asked me about my first day in CID.
I lied and said I couldn't remember. What really happened was, I walked out of police college and into the station canteen – and the first thing I was told was, forget everything you've just had drilled into you. “This is where the game begins, son, and there's only two teams – us and them.”' He risked another glance towards her. Tfou covered for mates who'd had too many whiskies with lunch… or gone a bit too far on an arrest… prisoners falling downstairs or stumbling into walls… you covered for everybody on your team. I stood in that witness box knowing damned well I was covering for a colleague who'd set the old guy up.'
She was still staring at him. 'So why tell me? What the hell am I supposed to do with this?'
'You'll think of something.'
'That's so bloody typical of you, John! It's ancient history, but you couldn't just keep it to yourself – you had to dump it on me.'
'Hoping for absolution.'
'You're in the wrong place for that!' She fell silent for a moment, shoulders slumped. Then, after a deep breath: 'Nurse tells me you came straight here after the party, reeking of booze.'
'So?'
'There was another detective…'
'Stone,' Rebus acknowledged. 'He wanted to make sure I wasn't going to pull the plug on the patient.'
'There's not a shred of subtlety in your whole damned body, is there?'
'Are you saying I'm like a bull in a china shop?'
'What do you think?'
He considered the question for all of five seconds. 'Maybe the bull's just running from the abattoir,' he told her, readying to get to his feet. Clarke got up, too, looking bemused and watching as he leaned over the bed, willing Cafferty to wake up.
'You're really going to tell him what Goodyear did?' she asked.
'What's the alternative?'
'The alternative is, you leave it to me.' They'd started heading for the exit. 'Little turd's not going to get away with this. Things have changed, John – no cover-ups, no turning a blind eye…'
'That reminds me,' he said. 'I paid a visit to the Andersons yesterday.'
She stared at him. 'Having fully apprised them of your non combat status?'
'Their daughter was home from college. She really does look a lot like Nancy.'
'What are you saying?'
'I took Roger Anderson outside and told him I reckoned he'd recognised Nancy that night. Recognised her from the DVD, I mean.
He liked the feeling of power it gave him, knowing something she didn't. That's why he kept pestering her. He didn't like it when I added that maybe it also had something to do with her resemblance to his daughter.' He allowed himself a smile at the memory. 'That's when I told him who the girl in the bathroom was…'
His eyes met Clarke's and he broke off abruptly, knowing what she was about to say. She said it anyway: 'What DVD?'
He made show of clearing his throat. 'Forgot I hadn't told you.' He was holding the door open for her, but she was standing her ground.
'Tell me now,' she demanded.
'It would just be more baggage, Shiv. Trust me, you're better off without it.'
'Tell me anyway.'
Rebus had just started to open his mouth when a high-pitched alarm sounded from inside the ward. No expert in medical equipment, he reckoned he still knew a flatline when he heard one – and coming from the equipment next to Cafferty's bed. He stormed back in, hauling himself up on to the bed, straddling the prone figure.
Started pumping both hands down on Cafferty's chest.
'Kiss of life,' he yelled at Clarke, 'every third beat!'
'Staff are coming,' she told him. 'We should leave it to them.'
'Damned if this bastard's going to give up the ghost on me now.'
Flecks of Rebus's saliva hit Cafferty's forehead. He pumped his hands again, one palm on top of the other. Counted it out. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. Knew people who'd recovered from CPR but with a rib or two broken from the effort.
Push hard, he told himself.
'Don't you bloody well dare!' he hissed from between gritted teeth.
Saw the first nurse on the scene draw back, thinking the words were meant for her.
Blood rushing through Rebus's ears, almost deafening him. No cold, cleansed death for you, he was thinking.
One, two, three. One, two, three.
After all we've been through… can't end with a couple of whacks from Todd Goodyear…
One, two, three. One, two, three.
There should be mess… and fuss… and blood.
One, two, three.
'John?'
One, two, three.
'John?' Siobhan's voice seemed to be coming to him from some far-distant place. 'That's enough now. You can let go now.'
The machines were making noises. Sweat in his eyes and the hissing in his ears – couldn't tell if they were good news or not. In the end, it took two doctors, an attendant and a nurse to drag him off the bed.
'Is he going to be all right?' he heard himself ask. 'Tell me he's going to be all right…'
