Saints of the Shadow Bible

‘Nobody saw anything,’ he announced with a thin smile.

‘Now there’s a surprise,’ Rebus muttered.

‘Maybe if you felt able to trust me with a bit more information. .’ Christie was speaking to Fox, and Fox eventually opened his mouth to respond.

‘Tell him nothing,’ Rebus snapped. ‘We’ll do this the hard way. It’s not as if he owes me anything. .’

‘Because you put away Kenny Magrath?’ Christie had risen from the bar stool. ‘I’m supposed to thank you for that?’

But Rebus was already turning away, his hand on Fox’s arm again. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.

Outside, he got into the car, slamming shut the door and choking the steering wheel with both fists.

‘A bit of history?’ Fox surmised.

‘His sister was Annette McKie. Kenny Magrath killed her and I put him away.’

‘And he doesn’t owe you anything?’

‘Because he wanted Magrath dead — probably still does.’

Fox nodded his understanding. ‘Maybe if I’d gone in there on my own. .’

‘He’d have played the same game he just did. You heard his tone when he made those calls — no way he wanted them telling you anything useful.’

‘You think he had something to do with Saunders’s disappearance?’

Rebus stared hard at the pub’s uninviting frontage. ‘I wish,’ he said.

‘But you don’t think so — which takes us back to where we started.’

‘We’re just doing it the hard way, like I said.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning we put in a request to check Saunders’s phone calls.’

‘And then sit on our hands?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I think we go to Glasgow and invite ourselves in for a chat with an extremely well-connected businessman by the name of Stefan Gilmour.’

‘Bingo,’ Rebus said.

Fox gave a final glance towards the Gimlet. ‘You’re really telling me that kid’s a player in the city?’

‘World’s changing, Malcolm. Out with the old, as they say.’

‘Present company excepted, naturally.’

‘Naturally,’ Rebus said, starting the engine.

‘Do I need a lawyer?’

‘You’re not under caution, Mr Traynor.’

Ralph and Clarke had brought Owen Traynor to one of the smaller, tidier offices on the first floor of Torphichen Place. Members of the Major Incident Team could be heard behind the closed door, pretending to traverse the corridor but really hoping to overhear some titbit or other.

‘Had to run the bloody gauntlet coming in,’ Traynor complained. He was wearing his suit, but no tie. ‘If this is about Jessica’s crash. .’

‘In a way it is,’ Nick Ralph interrupted. ‘DI Clarke tells me your daughter is recovering?’

Traynor nodded.

‘But there’s still some confusion over the cause of the crash.’

‘She skidded on a patch of ice or something.’

‘So she was driving?’

‘That’s the story.’

‘Interesting choice of words,’ Clarke broke in. ‘Sounds to me like you don’t totally believe her.’

‘Blame your pal Rebus — he’s the one who tried stirring things up, bringing in Forbes McCuskey’s name. Next thing I know, he’s asking if I had anything to do with the break-in at the parents’ place.’

‘And did you?’

Traynor stared hard at Clarke. ‘I knew that was what this was about,’ he growled. ‘You’re desperate to put some mug in the frame — any mug!’

‘We’re just interested in the coincidence, Mr Traynor,’ DCI Ralph said, all calmness and reason.

‘As far as I know, the only thing that links the two events is the son, but I don’t see him being questioned. Wouldn’t look good in the papers, would it? So now my photo’s going to be in them instead!’

‘Just to be clear, then,’ Ralph went on, ignoring the outburst, ‘you’ve never met Patrick and Bethany McCuskey? Never been to their house?’

‘Didn’t even know where it was until I saw it on the news.’

‘And you don’t blame Forbes McCuskey for what happened to Jessica?’ Clarke added.

Traynor stared at her again. ‘Not at all,’ he stated, though she could tell he was lying, his eyes shifting away from her as he spoke.

‘I believe you have friends in the Met?’ Nick Ralph said, leaning back a little in his chair.

‘Amazing who you bump into when you play golf.’ Traynor tugged at one of his shirt cuffs.

‘Yet you’ve been in a bit of trouble in the past.’

‘Says who?’

‘There’s been a certain amount of insolvency.’

‘I’ve always bounced back.’

‘Unlike some of your investors.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘Just that you’re a man with a temper.’

‘Doesn’t mean I go around walloping politicians. Besides which, I was in my hotel all morning and plenty of staff can vouch for me.’ Traynor looked from one detective to the other, as if daring them to doubt him. ‘So you’re wasting your time, and — more importantly — mine.’

‘Do you like Forbes McCuskey?’ Clarke asked into the silence.

‘Kid seems all right.’

‘And if it were the case that he caused the crash rather than Jessica, and fled the scene without helping her. .?’

‘That’s not what she says happened.’

‘Maybe she’s just scared what you’d do if you discovered the truth.’

Traynor glared at her, then turned his attention to Ralph. ‘We about done here?’

‘Unless there’s anything you want to add.’

‘Nothing,’ Traynor stated.

Olivia Webster was summoned to lead Traynor out. Clarke and Ralph stood together in the corridor, watching him leave.

‘Wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him,’ Nick Ralph commented. ‘On the other hand, I’ve seen nothing to suggest that breaking into someone’s house is his style.’ He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Any word on the stolen property?’

‘Not yet.’

An officer had appeared in one of the doorways, waving to catch Ralph’s attention. ‘Call from the First Minister’s office,’ he explained.

‘Wonderful,’ Ralph muttered, stalking down the hall.

12

Footage from the police station was playing on the TV news channel in Rebus and Fox’s café of choice. They were in the Glasgow suburbs, and thankful for the satnav on Fox’s phone.

‘Never really got to grips with the roads here,’ Fox commented, as his Scotch broth was delivered.

‘Join the club.’ Rebus sat back a little, so that the waiter could place the steak pie in front of him. It came