risk the camera being found.
'Won't ask why you need it, Jim,' Stuart Janney commented to a few rugby-club guffaws.
'Nothing sordid, Stuart,' the man called Jim responded, making his exit.
Jim Bakewell, Minister for Economic Development. Meaning Bakewell had lied at the Parliament, telling Siobhan he'd not met Cafferty until that night at the hotel.
'Try making a complaint to the Chief Constable now, Jimbo,'
Rebus muttered, stabbing a finger in Bakewell's direction.
There wasn't an awful lot more to the DVD. After half an hour, the spectators had wrung as much interest as possible from the show. There were three further members of the party who were new to Rebus. They looked like business types, ruddy-faced and big-bellied. Builders? Contractors? Maybe even councillors…
Rebus knew he could probably find out, but that would mean taking the recording. Which was fine, so long as no one noticed it was missing. If anyone found out Rebus had been here, Cafferty's defence team would have a field day.
'Oh aye, John? What defence team is that then?'
Yes, because where was the crime? Bugging flats you were renting?
Small beer – the magistrate would watch the DVDs with a good deal of interest, then stick the gangster with a pittance of a fine. Rebus made sure everything was switched off, no prints left behind, then headed downstairs and unlocked the safe again, replacing the box, keeping just the one disc for himself. Down the white marble hall and out into the sweet-smelling air, door secure behind him. He'd have to get Cafferty's keys back to him, but first he had some thinking to do. He took a left out of the gate and another left at the top of the road, heading for Bruntsfield Place and the first available taxi.
Eddie Gentry, replete with eyeliner and the red bandanna, opened the door to him.
'Nancy's out,' he said.
'Have you patched things up?'
'We had a frank exchange of views.'
Rebus smiled. 'Going to invite me in, Eddie? And by the way, I liked your CD.'
Gentry considered his options, then turned and pushed open the living-room door. Rebus followed him inside.
'Ever watch Big Brother, Eddie?' Rebus was making a circuit of the room, hands in pockets.
'Life's too short.'
'It is that,' Rebus seemed to agree. 'Tell you something I didn't spot when I was here before.'
'What?'
Rebus looked up. Your ceilings have been lowered.'
¦Yeah?'
Rebus nodded. 'Done before you moved in?'
'Suppose so.'
'There might be original features – cornices, ceiling roses… Why do you reckon the landlord would want them covered up?'
'Insulation?'
'How so?'
Gentry shrugged. 'Makes the rooms smaller, meaning easier to heat.'
'The rooms are all the same, then? Fake ceilings?'
'I'm not an architect.'
Rebus locked eyes with the young man, saw the slightest twitch at a corner of his mouth. Eddie Gentry was not feeling comfortable.
The detective gave a low, drawn-out whistle.
Tou know, don't you?' he asked. Tou've known all along?'
'Known what?'
'Cafferty's got you wired – cameras in the ceiling, in the walls…'
He pointed towards a corner of the room. 'See that hole? Looks like someone's botched a bit of drilling?' Gentry's face gave nothing away. 'There's a lens pointing at us. But you already know that.
For all I know, maybe it's even your job to set the camera rolling.'
Gentry had folded his arms across his chest. 'That session you did at CR Studios – I'm betting it didn't come cheap. Did Cafferty pay for it? Was that part of the deal? Bit of money in your pocket… cheap rent… no overcrowding… and all you had to do was throw a few parties.' Rebus was thinking it through. 'Dope provided by Sol Goodyear – and I'm betting it came cheap, too. Know why?'
'Why?'
'Because Sol works for Cafferty. He's the dealer, you're the pimp…'
'Fuck you.'
'Careful, son.' Rebus jabbed his forefinger towards the young man. 'Have you heard what happened to Cafferty?'
'I heard.'
'Maybe someone didn't like what he'd been doing. Remember that party with Gill Morgan?'
'What about it?'
'That the only footage of her you got?'
'I've no idea.' Rebus looked disbelieving. 'I never watched any of it.'
'Just handed it over, eh?'
'No harm done, was there?'
'I don't think you're qualified to judge that, Eddie. Does Nancy know?'
Gentry shook his head.
'Just you, eh? Did he tell you he was doing the selfsame thing in some of his other flats?'
“You mentioned Big Brother earlier – what's the difference?'
Rebus was standing close to the young man when he answered.
'Difference is, they know they're being watched. I can't really decide who's the sleazier, you or Cafferty. He was watching complete strangers, but you, Eddie, were filming your mates.'
'Is there a law against it?'
'Oh, I'm fairly sure there is. How often does the taping happen?'
'Three or four times – tops.'
Because by then Cafferty was bored, and moved on to a new flat, new tenants, new faces and bodies… Rebus walked into the hallway, looked for the hole and found it. Nancy's bedroom: again, the false ceiling; again, the neatly drilled hole. The bathroom was the same. When Rebus emerged into the hallway, Gentry was leaning against the wall, arms still folded, jaw jutting defiantly.
'Where's the hardware?' Rebus asked.
'Mr C took it.'
When?'
'Few weeks back. Like I told you, it was only three or four times…'
'Doesn't make it any less sordid. Let's take a look at your room.' Rebus didn't wait for an invitation, opened the door to Gentry's bedroom and asked where the cables were.
They used to come down from the ceiling. Had them hooked up
to a DVD recorder. If anything interesting was happening, I only had to press the record button.'
'And now the whole lot's been installed in some other flat so your landlord can show a fresh slice of grainy porn to his sweaty pals.'
Rebus was shaking his head slowly. 'Wouldn't want to be in your shoes when Nancy finds out…'
Gentry didn't so much as flinch. 'I think it's time you were leaving,'
he stated. 'Show's over.'
Rebus responded by getting right into the young man's face. Tou couldn't be more wrong, Eddie – this
