Saints of the Shadow Bible

quite enough to convince of the accused’s guilt. You walked out of court a free man, no official stain on your character. The words stuck in every detective’s craw: you nearly got me, but not quite. Rebus had seen absolute villains swaggering from court after a not proven, with a grin and a wink for the law officers who had racked up hundreds of hours building the case — the case that didn’t quite stack up in the jury’s collective mind.

Better luck next time, those grins and winks said.

‘Were you at the autopsy?’ Rebus asked.

‘No.’

‘How about Gilmour or Blantyre?’

‘It was a long time ago, John.’ Paterson fell silent, as though thinking. ‘I’m fairly sure it was Frazer Spence. Aye, Frazer drew the short straw that day.’

Liar, thought Rebus. Why do that? Professor Cuttle had already supplied the names — Gilmour and Blantyre — names Paterson was choosing to ignore.

‘I still don’t see where Kennedy fits into anything, though,’ Paterson was now saying.

‘I don’t think he does.’ Here, have one of mine — fair exchange is no robbery.

Rebus ended the call and finished his cigarette, flicking it from the car window. He stared up towards the top floor of the building across from him, then got out, marched to its front door, and pressed the bell marked TRAYNOR/BELL.

‘Hello?’

He recognised the voice, and leaned in towards the intercom. ‘It’s Detective Sergeant Rebus,’ he announced.

‘Jessica doesn’t want to see you.’

‘It’s not her I’m here to talk to, Alice — it’s you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If Jessica’s up there, probably best if you come down here.’

‘Why? What have I done?’

‘Does she know about you and our dear-departed Justice Minister? Come to that, does Forbes know you were seeing his old man?’

‘You bastard,’ she said. ‘Just go away and leave us alone.’

‘Can’t do that, Alice. Not until I get a few answers.’

‘Just — sod — off!’ A click told him the intercom had died. He stood up straight, waited a few seconds, then retreated to his car, making himself comfortable behind the steering wheel. He was about to occupy himself with a fresh cigarette when Alice Bell yanked open the door to her building, stepped out and looked up and down the street. She was fretting, hands clasped. When she saw the Saab, her eyes narrowed, her lips forming a thin determined line. Rebus gestured for her to come join him, and she did, opening the passenger-side door and getting in, slamming the door closed after her.

‘You’re vile,’ she said.

‘When the investigation team called you, you told them Forbes’s dad was showing you around the Scottish Parliament. As far as I know, they’ve accepted that story.’ He paused. ‘I wasn’t so sure, and you sitting here seals it for me.’ Another pause. ‘So do you want to tell me?’

‘Tell you what?’

Rebus leaned back against the headrest, face half turned towards hers. ‘So far they’ve only been looking at Pat McCuskey’s most recent phone records. I can go back a bit further and work out when it started. .’

‘Three months,’ she eventually said. ‘Three and a half.’

‘How did the two of you meet?’

‘Forbes took Jessica and me to the house. His parents were there. When I said I was interested in Alison Watt, Pat told me there was a painting by her hanging in the Parliament building.’ It was Alice Bell’s turn to pause. ‘That was the start, I suppose.’

‘Forbes and Jessica. .?’

‘Don’t know anything about it.’

‘How often did you meet, you and him?’

‘Eight times.’ She sounded almost proud that she could be so specific.

‘At his house?’

She shook her head. ‘Never there.’

‘Where, then?’

‘He has a friend with a flat on Holyrood Road. The friend is away in London a lot. .’ She had begun to blush. ‘I know he’s a lot older than me, and. . and he’s Forbes’s dad and everything, but. .’

‘You’re not in the confessional, Alice.’

‘You don’t think. .?’

‘That his death had anything to do with you?’ Rebus shook his head. ‘Not unless you want to tell me otherwise.’

‘Then I don’t see. .’

Rebus twisted his body towards her. ‘I need information, Alice. I need to know what happened the night of the crash. My gut tells me Jessica will have confided in you.’

‘She hasn’t.’

‘I think you’re lying.’

‘I’m not!’

‘Well if that’s how we’re playing this, I might have to share your little secret with a few mutual friends — Jessica and Forbes to start with, then the team investigating Mr McCuskey’s demise. .’

Her eyes had grown fiery. ‘You are vile,’ she said, voice trembling with rage.

‘I prefer the phrase “hard but fair”.’

‘What’s fair about this?’

‘Look, I’ll make it easy for you. Forbes was the go-to guy for student drugs. My theory is a deal went bad that night and he totalled the car getting away. Then he kept on running, leaving Jessica in the lurch. Now I ask you: is that fair, do you think?’

‘I don’t know what to think.’ She blinked a few times, as though having trouble bringing the immediate world into focus. Then she took a deep breath, composing herself. Rebus bided his time, knowing she was about to offer him something.

‘Forbes gets the stuff from a bar.’

‘In the city centre?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s called the Gimlet. I think it’s in Gorgie or nearby.’

‘Nearby,’ Rebus agreed quietly. ‘Who’s his contact? The owner? A man named Darryl Christie?’

She was still shaking her head. ‘One of the doormen. Deano? A name like that.’

‘Deano,’ Rebus agreed.

‘That’s as much as I know.’

‘No whispered conversations between Forbes and Jessica since the crash? No muffled phone calls when she doesn’t know you’re listening?’

‘Nothing,’ Alice Bell said, her eyes drilling into his.

‘Is she upstairs just now?’

Bell nodded. ‘On the phone to her father — talking about tomorrow’s funeral.’

‘What about it?’

‘Her father wanted to put in an appearance. Jessica’s persuading him otherwise. Apparently he called Forbes and accused him of nearly killing Jess. She’s worried he’d make a scene. .’ Her look hardened. ‘It was you who put the idea in his head.’

‘We both know Forbes was driving that car, Alice.’

She had reached for the door handle, pushing it outwards. ‘You’re hacking your way through a lot of innocent lives, you know. And I sense you get a kick out of it, too.’ She was on the pavement now. He watched her cross the street and enter her building. Once she was inside, he noticed she had left the passenger-side door wide