‘It had to be Saunders who arranged the meeting with his killer. Or else the shooter found out about it and invited himself along.’
‘Who might Saunders have needed to see?’
Rebus shook his head. ‘How much of a background check is Siobhan doing?’
‘Friends and family interviewed, mail, computer and phone records gone through. We’re tracing as many of his fares as we can, even speaking to convicts he might have got to know during his time inside.’
‘Not too many holes there.’
‘DI Clarke is nothing if not thorough. At one point I thought she would make a great Complaints officer, but that would be CID’s loss.’
‘Implying that you weren’t,’ Rebus couldn’t help saying.
‘Now you sound like my dad. .’ Fox turned to look out of the window at the passing parade of shops and offices.
For the rest of the drive Rebus considered apologising for the barb.
But he kept his mouth shut.
Professor Cuttle was feeling a little better. He was out of bed and watching TV in the lounge with three other residents, not one of whom was actually awake.
‘You again,’ he complained, recognising Rebus.
‘Remember me?’ Fox asked. ‘Inspector Fox?’
Cuttle nodded while still scowling. ‘Is this going to be a regular thing? Visits to the ageing and infirm?’
‘Just a couple of points that need clarifying,’ Rebus assured him, dragging a vacant chair over and settling himself on its arm. ‘If you don’t mind casting your mind back to that Phil Kennedy autopsy. .’
‘You’re persistent, Detective Sergeant.’
‘Sorry about that, sir.’ But Rebus didn’t manage to sound it. ‘You said that DI Gilmour and DS Blantyre were in the room when the deceased was being examined?’
‘Nothing unusual in that.’
‘Nobody else from CID was there? DS Paterson, DC Spence?’
The pathologist shook his head. ‘And no DS Rebus either.’
‘I was still a detective constable back then.’
‘And you’ve soared through the ranks since.’
Rebus glanced towards Fox and noted that the man was enjoying his discomfort — perhaps understandably.
‘When I asked yesterday, I think you said you weren’t a hundred per cent sure about DS Blantyre being present?’
‘Ninety-five per cent,’ Cuttle stated.
‘But you doubt we’d find any paperwork after all this time?’
‘I suppose Professor Donner’s family might have kept copies of his reports.’
‘You sound sceptical.’
‘Comes with the territory.’ Cuttle looked at Fox. ‘I did say to DS Rebus here, last time he saw fit to disrupt my daily routine, that I wondered if all this might not be a diversion from the Merchant killing.’
‘Don’t think I’ve not harboured the same thoughts, sir,’ Fox commented.
‘But to get back to the autopsy itself,’ Rebus pressed. ‘When you told me Professor Donner was in charge that day, you hesitated. .’
‘Did I?’
‘As if you’d remembered something.’
Cuttle looked from one detective to the other. ‘Professor Donner is not here to defend himself, and I won’t speak ill of the dead.’
‘He made a mistake?’
Cuttle shook his head slowly and rested his hands across his stomach. ‘The Y incision had been made, the ribcage prised open. Organs were in the process of being removed and weighed. .’
‘Yes?’
‘We were short-staffed. The autopsy had been fast-tracked for some reason, when we could just as easily have left the cadaver in cold storage.’
‘A lack of technicians?’
The old man nodded. ‘Meaning I took on the more menial role — fetching and carrying.’
Rebus felt like reaching across and shaking the pathologist. But he balled his fists instead and waited.
‘I had to leave the room for a moment. Professor Donner had need of a clamp. It was in a room across the hall. While I was out, the post-mortem examination continued.’
‘There are supposed to be two pathologists present at all times,’ Rebus said. ‘Scots law requires corroboration.’
‘Does it really? Well, thanks for the lesson.’
‘You knew at the time, and so did Donner.’
‘Nevertheless, he chose not to wait. By the time I returned, the stomach had been cut open. The smell of spirits was overpowering.’
‘To be expected in a man who’d been on a binge,’ Fox stated.
‘But his mouth had been examined, no hint of anything on his breath. And the smell was. . there had been no reaction with the other chemicals in the stomach.’
‘You’re saying it was too fresh?’ Rebus asked.
‘As if it had just been poured from the bottle,’ Cuttle replied.
‘Poured from the bottle?’ Rebus echoed, eyes on Fox. ‘Did you mention that at the time?’
Cuttle shook his head. ‘I was probably too busy wondering about that clamp.’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, the fact of the matter is, it wasn’t needed at all. It just sat there while the rest of the examination went on. No question about the cause of death — the man had sustained lethal injuries consistent with a fall of some kind. One or two anomalies weren’t going to change that.’
Rebus thought for a moment. ‘All the times you worked with Professor Donner. . was this the only occasion something like that happened?’
Cuttle looked down at his hands. ‘More or less,’ he eventually confided.
‘More or less? And the other times were always when Summerhall CID were on hand?’
Cuttle nodded slowly.
Fox made show of clearing his throat before asking a question of his own. ‘Would you say that Professor Donner was on friendly terms with anyone from Summerhall in particular?’
Cuttle looked up at him. ‘The man is not here to defend himself.’
‘So you say. But that also gives us a certain freedom to be frank with each other, doesn’t it?’
Cuttle considered this, then took a deep breath. ‘There were occasional invitations from DI Gilmour — to dinners, social functions, boxing bouts. .’
‘And were you included in these invitations, Professor?’
‘I was, but I seldom said yes to them.’
‘And Professor Donner?’
‘He’d known Stefan Gilmour for longer.’
‘And saw him as a friend, maybe?’
‘Perhaps,’ Cuttle conceded.
‘Someone he might do a favour for now and then. .?’
‘I won’t speak ill of the dead,’ the old man repeated.
‘You knew it happened, though?’
Cuttle was shaking his head again.
‘Okay,’ Fox persisted. ‘Then let’s say you had your suspicions.’
‘Professor Donner was one of this country’s most distinguished pathologists.’
‘Who just happened to enjoy hanging out with CID of a night.’ Fox shifted his attention to Rebus. ‘Did you know any of this?’
