Saints of the Shadow Bible

‘No.’

‘Is that the truth?’

Rebus’s jaw tightened. ‘Yes,’ he said.

One of the sleepers had awoken. She leaned forward and told Cuttle how lovely it was that he had visitors.

‘They’re just leaving,’ the old man said.

‘Your pal Stefan, eh?’ Fox said as Rebus drove them back to Wester Hailes. ‘Splashing the cash, showing Professor Donner a good time. .’

‘He was the generous sort,’ Rebus intoned. He was remembering back to nights at the pub — Gilmour tipping the bar staff even in the seediest dive. Same went for clubs and restaurants.

Means they remember me kindly, Gilmour would explain. And that’s good for business. .

‘So how do you think it went down?’ Fox was asking now. ‘Hip flask in a back pocket? They get Cuttle out of the room and tip the contents into the open stomach to make it look as though Kennedy had been drinking. Blood tests would have told a different story, but there were no blood tests.’

‘You’re saying it wasn’t an accident?’

‘John.’ Fox leaned in towards him. ‘I think I’m saying it was murder. He was thrown down those stairs, wasn’t he? Because Gilmour was so riled by that not-proven verdict. Needed to make sure it was recorded as accidental death, and luckily he had a friendly pathologist to hand.’ He paused. ‘That sound about right to you?’

‘You know none of it will stand up in court. In fact it wouldn’t even get that far, because the Procurator Fiscal will ask for evidence — not theories or character assassination, but a few cold, hard facts. And I’m not seeing any. On top of which, I’m guessing you think that’s the hold Saunders had over Gilmour — but Saunders didn’t know Phil Kennedy.’

‘Are we sure about that?’

‘You’re the one who’s working the Saunders murder — has Phil Kennedy’s name ever come up?’

‘We’ve been digging for recent friends rather than ghosts. But I think if we give all of this to Siobhan Clarke, she’ll decide the circumstantial evidence goes way beyond theory.’

‘How about character assassination? Stefan Gilmour’s a huge success story. He brings lawyers and PR people with him. You can bet he’ll twist it round to make it look like a political plot. The Yes campaign have lost their big beast, so the No camp’s equivalent has to be brought down.’

Fox was silent for a moment. ‘It’s a good point,’ he admitted at last. ‘But it doesn’t change anything.’ He slapped the palm of his hand against the dashboard. ‘We should have taped our talk with Cuttle.’

‘There were two of us,’ Rebus reminded him. ‘We’ve got corroboration. .’

19

Siobhan Clarke was starving.

She’d been to Fettes HQ to give a report to her bosses — the incoming head of Police Scotland was taking an interest. Shootings were not as yet a common occurrence in the country and he didn’t want his tenure of the new set-up to coincide with a rise in gun crime.

She rendezvoused with Rebus and Fox at a burger bar next to the cinema complex in Wester Hailes, where she worked her way through a double cheeseburger and told them about the interview with Dean Grant.

‘I’m with John,’ she concluded. ‘The guy’s a hundred per cent dodgy, but there’s nothing he knows that can help us with Saunders.’

‘Meantime, we’ve got news of our own,’ Fox informed her. He had decided against any food and was nursing a weak tea, while Rebus demolished a helping of onion rings.

‘I’m listening,’ Clarke said.

Fox laid out for her the conversation with Professor Cuttle and the story of the autopsy. Halfway through, Rebus’s phone alerted him to an incoming call. He checked the screen and manoeuvred his way out of the booth.

‘Got to take this,’ he said, pressing the phone to his ear and heading for the door.

‘Stefan?’ he said. The day had grown overcast, threatening sleet. There were picnic-style tables outside, but no diners. The drive-through window had a queue, and beyond it Rebus could see traffic growing heavier on the commuter route out of town. For some, the working day was over.

‘I hear you’ve pulled in the bouncer from some drug den of a pub,’ Gilmour stated.

‘News travels fast,’ Rebus said, his thumbnail working a sliver of onion free from his teeth.

‘He’s got to be a better candidate, surely.’

‘We don’t think so.’

‘Bit of effort might make all the difference.’

‘You want me to pin Billy Saunders’s murder on anyone I see fit?’

‘Used to be the way of it, John — get the scumbags off the street by hook or by crook.’

‘Things have changed, Stefan. But since you’re on the line, let me ask you a question.’

‘Make it quick — I’ve a wake to get back to.’

‘What’s this I hear about Slippery Phil Kennedy?’

‘I doubt you’re hearing anything about that turd. He died decades back.’

‘The week before Douglas Merchant, actually.’

‘Is that right?’

‘I seem to remember you rubbing your hands with glee at the time.’

‘No surprises there.’

‘What did come as a surprise was the news that the autopsy may have been got at.’

‘Got at?’

‘You used to carry a hip flask. .’

‘Nestling in my pocket right now. What are you saying, John?’

‘I’m saying you went out of your way to make sure Philip Kennedy’s death was attributed to a drunken accident.’

‘That’s quite an accusation. What does Professor Donner say? No, hang on a minute — he’s not with us, is he?’

‘Dod Blantyre is, though — he was there with you when the hip flask came out.’

‘You been on the sauce yourself, John? Next you’ll be telling me about the pink elephants.’

‘That not-proven verdict really got to you, didn’t it? That’s why you went to Kennedy’s house. .’

‘Jog on, pal.’

‘Were we ever pals, you and me?’

‘We were more than that — we were Saints of the Shadow Bible.’

‘But the Shadow Bible was the copy of Scots Criminal Law we were given. Big black thing with a leather cover and brass screws. And we all spat on it and rubbed it in till it was dry. I thought it was a kind of oath, but it wasn’t — we were saying the rules could go to hell, because we knew better. We were the ones in the field. .’

‘We absolutely were.’

‘And it was a shadow bible because it wasn’t quite the word of God — it was written by committee, meaning we could disregard it.’

‘We got results, if you’d care to remember.’

‘Oh, we got results all right — but at a cost. And it seems to me we’re still paying.’

‘So how come I don’t feel bad about myself?’

‘It’s because as far as you’re concerned, there is no one else, no one that matters. As long as your money is making you more money, the rest of the world can go screw itself.’