'So you accept I knew him?' He waited till Siobhan nodded. 'And you accept he'd have wanted the Knights to have some sort of financial consideration from his estate?'
'That's not really for us to decide, Mr Sithing,' Rebus said. 'It'll be a case for the lawyers.' He paused. 'But we can always put in a friendly word.' He ignored Siobhan's look, nodded slowly so that Gerald Sithing wouldn't mistake the implication.
'I see,' Sithing said. He sat down on one of the chairs laid out for the congregation. 'What is it you want to know?' he asked quietly. Rebus sat on a chair across the aisle.
'Did Mr Mackie seem at all interested in the Grieve family?'
For a moment, Sithing didn't seem to have understood the question, then he asked. 'How did you know?' And Rebus knew they'd struck gold.
'Is Hugh Cordover a member of your group?'
'Yes,' Sithing said, his eyes widening, as though in the presence of a magus.
'Did Chris Mackie ever come here?'
Sithing shook his head .1 asked him many times, but he always said no.'
'Didn't that seem strange? I mean, you say he was interested in Rosslyn.'
'I assumed he disliked travelling.'
'So you met him in The Meadows, and talked about...?'
'Lots of things.'
'Among them, the Grieve family?'
Siobhan, aware that she was being excluded, sat herself in the row in front of Sithing, half-facing him.
'Who brought up the Grieves first?' she asked.
Sithing said he wasn't sure.
'My guess is', Rebus said, 'you were telling him about the Knights, and you mentioned Hugh Cordover.'
'Maybe,' Sithing admitted. Then he looked up. 'Actually, that's just how it happened!' His gaze went to Rebus again: magus status confirmed.
Siobhan, even though it was her case, decided to keep quiet. Rebus quite clearly had Gerald Sithing in a kind of trance.
'You mentioned Cordover,' Rebus stated, 'and Mackie wanted to know more?'
'He'd been a fan of the band, said he knew their music. I think he even hummed me one of their songs, not that I was familiar with it. He asked a few questions, I answered where I could.'
'And thereafter, when you met...?'
'He would ask how Hugh and Lorna were.'
'Did he ask about anyone else?'
'They're never out of the news, are they? I told him what stories I had.'
'Ever wonder why he was so interested in the Grieves, Mr Sithing?'
'Please, call me Gerald. Did you know, there's an aura around you, Inspector? I'm sure of it.'
'Probably just my aftershave.' Siobhan snorted, but he ignored her. 'Didn't it seem to you that he was more interested in Hugh Cordover and his family than he was in the Knights of Rosslyn?'
'Oh no, I'm sure that wasn't the case.'
Rebus leaned forward. 'Look into your heart, Gerald,' he intoned.
Sithing did sor swallowed noisily. 'Maybe you're right. Yes, maybe you are. But tell me, why was he so interested in the Grieves?'
Rebus stood up, leaned down over Sithing. 'Now how the hell would I know that?' he said.
Back in the car, Siobhan smiled as she mimicked him. ' 'Look into your heart, Gerald.' '
'Rum old bugger, wasn't he?' Rebus had the window down, so Siobhan would let him smoke.
'So what have we got?'
'We've got Supertramp feigning an interest in the Knights of Rosslyn while pumping information about the clan. We've got him interested in Hugh Cordover, but unwilling to come down to the chapel. Why? Because he didn't want to meet Cordover.'
'Because Cordover knew him?' Siobhan guessed.
'It's a possibility.'
'So are we any nearer finding out who he was?'
'Maybe. Supertramp's interested in the Grieves and in Skelly. Roddy Grieve dies in the grounds of Queensberry House, shortly after Skelly's been uncovered. Around the same time, Supertramp takes the high dive.'
'You want to roll three cases into one?'
Rebus shook his head. 'We don't have enough; the Farmer would never go for it. He'd certainly never let me run it the way it needs to be run.'
'Speaking of which...' Siobhan changed up through the gears as she left the village behind. 'Where's your sidekick?'
'You mean Linford?' Rebus shrugged. 'Doing interviews.'
Siobhan looked sceptical. 'Leaving you to your own devices?'
'Derek Linford knows what's good for him,' Rebus said, flicking his cigarette out across the blood- bruised sky.
They had a war meeting: Rebus and Siobhan, Wylie and Hood. The back room at the Oxford Bar. They took the table at the far end, so there'd be no one near enough to overhear the conversation.
'I'm seeing links between the three cases,' Rebus said, having gone through his reasons. 'Tell me now if you think I'm wrong.'
I'm not saying you're wrong, sir,' Wylie piped up, 'but where's the evidence?'
Rebus nodded. The beer in front of him was almost untouched. In deference to the non-smokers, his cigarette packet was still in its Cellophane. 'Exactly,' he said. 'That's why I want us to ca'canny. At this stage, we need to be aware of each other. That way, when the connections come, we'll see them straight off.'
'What do I tell CI Templer?' Siobhan asked. Gill Templer, Siobhan's boss, the name resonant now.
'You keep her up to snuff. The Chief Super, too, if it comes to that.'
'He's going to close the case on me,' she complained.
'We'll persuade him otherwise,' Rebus promised. 'Now drink up, the next round's on me.'
While Rebus went to the bar, Siobhan stepped outside to call home and check her answering machine messages. There were two of them, both from Derek Linford, making apologies and asking to see her.
'Took you long enough,' she muttered to herself. He'd left his home phone number, but she was only half listening.
Left alone at the table, Wylie and Hood drank in silence for a few moments. Wylie spoke first.
'What do you reckon?'
Hood shook his head. 'The DI has a rep for going out on a limb. Do we want to be out there with him?'
'I don't see it, to be honest with you. What's our case -or Siobhan's, come to that - got to do with this dead MSP?'
'What are you thinking?'
'I think he might be trying to hijack our cases because his own one's hit a wall.'
Hood shook his head. 'I've told you, he's not like that.'
Wylie was thoughtful. 'Mind you, if he's right then we've got a bigger case than we thought.' Her mouth twisted into a smile. 'And if he's wrong, it's not us who'll get carpeted, is it?'
Rebus was coming back with the drinks. Gin, lime and soda for Wylie, half of lager for Hood. He went back to the bar and returned with a whisky for himself, Coke for Siobhan.
'Slainte,' he said, as Siobhan settled next to him on the narrow banquette.
'So what's the plan?' Wylie asked.
