‘No, he’d left by then.’
‘You didn’t know, of course, that Neil was Ronnie’s brother?’
The look of surprise on Charlie’s face seemed authentic, but then Rebus knew him for an accomplished actor, and was taking nothing for granted, not any more.
“No, I didn’t know that. Shit, his brother. Why didn’t he want any of us to meet him?’
‘Neil and I are in the same profession,’ Rebus explained. Charlie just smiled and shook his head. Vanderhyde was leaning back thoughtfully in his chair, like a meticulous juror at some trial.
Now,’ Rebus continued, ‘Neil says he left quite early. lonnie was being uncommunicative.’
‘I can guess why.’
‘Why?’
‘Easy. He’d just scored, hadn’t he? He hadn’t seen any stuff for ages, and suddenly he’d scored.’ Charlie suddenly remembered that his aged uncle was listening, and stopped short, looking towards the old man. Vanderhyde, shrewd as ever, seemed to sense this, and waved his hand regally before him, as if to say, I’ve been too long on this planet and can’t be shocked any more.
‘I think you’re right,’ Rebus said to Charlie. ‘One hundred percent. So, in an empty house, Ronnie shoots up. The stuffs lethal. When Tracy comes in, she finds him in his room -’
‘So she says,’ interrupted Charlie. Rebus nodded, acknowledging his scepticism.
‘Let’s accept for the moment that’s what happened. He’s dead, or seems so to her. She panics, and runs off. Right. So far so good. Now it begins to get hazy, and this is where I need your help, Charlie. Thereafter, someone moves Ronnie’s body downstairs. I don’t know why. Maybe they were just playing silly buggers, or, as Mr Vanderhyde put it so succinctly, trying to muddy the water. Anyway, around this stage in the chronology, a second packet of white powder appears. Tracy only saw one -’ Rebus saw that Charlie was about to interrupt again - so she says. So, Ronnie had one packet and shot up with it. When he died, his body came downstairs and another packet magically appeared. This new packet contains good stuff, not the poison Ronnie used on himself. And, to add a little more to the concoction, Ronnie’s camera disappears, to turn up later in your squat, Charlie, in your room, and in your black polythene bag.’
Charlie had stopped looking at Rebus. He was looking at the floor, at his mug, at the teapot. His eyes still weren’t on Rebus when he spoke. ‘Yes, I took it.’
‘You took the camera?’
‘I just said I did, didn’t I?’
‘Okay.’ Rebus’s voice was neutral. Charlie’s smouldering shame might at any moment catch light and ignite into anger. ‘When did you take it?’
‘Well, I didn’t exactly stop to look at my watch.’
‘Charles!’ Vanderhyde’s voice was loud, the word coming from his mouth like a bite. Charlie took notice. He straightened in his chair, reduced to some childhood fear of this imposing creature, his uncle the magician.
Rebus cleared his throat. The taste of Earl Grey was thick on his tongue. ‘Was there anyone in the house when-you got back?’
‘No. Well, yes, if you’re counting Ronnie.’
‘Was he upstairs or down?’
‘He was at the top of the stairs, if you must know. Just lying there, like he’d been trying to come down them. I thought he was crashed out. But he didn’t look right. I mean, when someone’s sleeping, there’s some kind of movement. But Ronnie was . . . rigid. His skin was cold, damp.’
‘And he was at the top of the stairs?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did you do then?’
‘Well, I knew he was dead. And it was like I was dreaming. That sounds stupid, but it was like that. I know now that I was just trying to shut it out. I went into Ronnie’s room.’
‘Was the syringe jar there?’
“I can’t remember.’
‘Never mind. Go on.’
‘Well, I knew that when Tracy got back -’
‘Yes?’
God, this is going to make me sound like a monster.’
“What is it?’
‘Well, I knew that when she came back, she’d see
Ronnie was dead and grab what she could of his. I knew she would, I just felt it. So I took something I thought he’d have wanted me to have.’
‘For sentimental reasons then?’ asked Rebus archly.
‘Not totally,’ Charlie admitted. Rebus had a sudden cooling thought: this is going too easily. ‘It was the only thing Ronnie had that was worth any money.’
Rebus nodded. Yes, that was more like it. Not that Charlie was short of a few bob; he could always rely on Uncle Matthew. But it was the illicit nature of the act that appealed. Something Ronnie would have wanted him to
