Saints of the Shadow Bible

‘John. .’

‘Going through some of the old files reminded me that I was still earning your trust back then. Might be there’s stuff you think needs keeping from me, even now. Walking into Fox’s office was like wandering into a minefield — I’d hate to find out one of my old pals from the Saints had a map tucked away showing where all those explosives were buried.’

‘I’m keeping nothing from you, John,’ Paterson said quietly.

‘And you can vouch for Stefan and Dod?’

Paterson considered this, then gave a shrug. ‘Everybody’s got a skeleton or two — you should know that better than most. Can you hear them clanking, John? Because I can — but I’m not about to tell that to anyone else.’ Paterson’s eyes had hardened. ‘Just find out what you can, and report back. That way we’re all covered.’ Leaving the rest of his drink, he got to his feet and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat. ‘And don’t forget to finish those nuts I bought — they cost enough. .’

Rebus watched him leave. Thirty-odd years since he had been introduced to the man, and he was left wondering if he really knew him at all.

Easy to blame Fox.

Maybe too easy.

Rebus walked through to the main bar and stood with three or four other regulars. They were intent on a local news bulletin. Rebus saw Page give his ad hoc press conference. It was followed by footage of a car arriving at the McCuskey home, Bethany McCuskey in the passenger seat, her son Forbes driving. Both wore tense, worried faces.

‘You can drive, you little bastard,’ Rebus muttered, finishing his drink and ordering another. While it was being poured, he stepped out into the street for a smoke. Behind him, on the TV, the First Minister was telling an interviewer of his ‘great shock and dismay’.

‘And what might this mean for the independence campaign?’ the journalist asked, but the door had closed before Rebus could hear the answer. Clarke’s car drew to a halt kerbside as he was halfway down the cigarette.

‘What are you drinking?’ he asked her, but she shook her head.

‘On my way somewhere,’ she explained.

‘The lawyer again?’

‘Maybe.’ She had changed into fresh clothes, maybe just a dab of make-up. And perfume — subtle but present. ‘So how did you get on with Owen Traynor?’

‘He admitted everything,’ Rebus stated. Just for a moment she was taken in, but then she scowled. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Shiv, but he says he had nothing to do with it.’

‘You asked him to his face?’

‘In front of his daughter,’ Rebus added. ‘Hers was an interesting reaction.’

‘In what way?’

‘I just sensed that cogs were turning; she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Her dad meantime has created his own little office so he can keep on doing whatever it is he does.’

‘Meaning he’s sticking around?’

‘Looks like.’

‘Not running, the way someone guilty might?’

‘There’s something else — were you at the house when the wife arrived?’

‘No.’

‘Young Forbes was behind the wheel.’

She took a moment to consider this. ‘Can’t really haul him in now, though, can we?’

‘With his dad in intensive care, you mean?’

‘Page would have kittens.’

‘Wouldn’t want the media falling out of love with him.’

‘He’s got half the office going through folders of housebreakings in the city. Old-timers dragged in and questioned. .’ She looked at him. ‘Doesn’t feel like locals, though, does it?’

‘The man just wants a quick result — that way the politicians will love him too.’

‘Can you put word out? See if anyone’s heard anything?’

‘I don’t have the contacts I used to.’

‘Thing is, no one else I’ve spoken to has any. It’s a skill that seems to have died out.’

‘Do we have a list of what was taken?’

‘It’s getting there.’

‘Get me a copy and I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Thanks. Anything else I should know?’

‘Just that me and Foxy are best buds now.’

‘Somehow I doubt that.’ She couldn’t help smiling.

‘Then let’s just say he’s thawing.’

‘Really?’

Rebus gave it three beats. ‘No, not really,’ he admitted. The smile was still there as she shifted the Astra’s gearstick into first, giving him a little wave with the fingers of her right hand.

Back inside the bar, Rebus was asked if Alistair Darling was being brought in for questioning, since he was heading the No campaign.

‘Aye, or that mate of his, Stefan Gilmour,’ someone else piped up.

‘Guy like that can spend his way out of any amount of trouble,’ the first speaker argued. ‘See, when you back out of buying a football team, tends to leave you with a bit of spare cash — am I right, John?’

‘Absolutely, Dennis,’ Rebus said, handing over his last five-pound note to the barman.

Alone in the flat in Great King Street, Alice Bell splashed water on her face and dried it with a towel, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were reddened from crying, and she knew the pillow on her narrow single bed would be damp to the touch. She had closed the shutters in her room, aiming to blot out as much of the world as she could. Her knees were threatening to buckle as she made her way to the kitchen, hands brushing the hallway walls as if for support. With her mug of green tea, she settled at her desk in the living room. Her laptop, notes and books — what did any of these mean? Her throat felt cramped, heart pounding. When her phone rang suddenly in the silence, she gave a little gasp of fright. Forbes’s name was on the screen, so she answered.

‘It’s me,’ he said. ‘How are you?’

‘I should be asking you that. I’m sorry about your dad. I tried calling earlier. .’

‘I know, thanks. Wasn’t in a position to answer.’

She listened to him exhale noisily.

‘And your mum?’ she asked.

‘Soldiering on.’

‘It was a break-in. .?’

‘Of course it was.’

‘No connection. .?’

‘Let’s not even get into that, Alice, okay?’

‘If you’re sure.’

‘Of course I’m not sure!’ He paused, his voice calming. ‘Look, I need to go. Have you been to see Jess?’

‘She was sleeping.’

‘You spoke to Owen? You know he blames me? He phoned me to tell me as much.’

‘You need to steer clear of him.’

‘I plan to. Jess should be home in a day or two, and with any luck he’ll bugger off back south.’

‘This all feels like my fault,’ Alice said quietly.

‘We’re in it together, Alice. United we stand and all that. Talk to you tomorrow, yeah?’

‘Okay,’ she said, listening as he ended the call. She placed the phone on the surface of the desk and stared