Saints of the Shadow Bible

Another inch and he had a view of the hallway.

No sign of life.

He let it swing wide and walked in, calling out ‘Hello?’

The varnished wooden floor creaked beneath him as he made his way along it, passing the bicycles belonging to Jessica and Alice. Again, the door to the living room wasn’t quite closed, so he opened it. Owen Traynor was seated in one of the chairs, head leaning back, hands draped over the sides. He was in shirtsleeves and looked pale and almost drugged.

‘Mr Traynor?’ Rebus said, eyes taking in everything around him. No students, no Rory Bell.

‘How did I know I’d be seeing you again?’ Traynor’s mouth seemed parched, his voice brittle.

‘Any bother here?’

Traynor looked at Rebus and shook his head. His eyes were hollow from lack of sleep.

‘Been here all night?’ Rebus asked.

‘Maybe.’

‘Jessica and Alice?’

‘I sent them elsewhere. Forbes too.’

‘So you could talk to Rory Bell in private?’

Traynor’s gaze grew more focused, but he decided not to answer. His fingers were beating out a silent rhythm against the sides of the chair. Rebus turned his head towards Fox and indicated that he should take a look around. Then he moved towards the chair and crouched down in front of it.

‘It didn’t do any good, you know — moving those cars out of the car park. We got them anyway.’

‘I don’t blame Alice, even though she told me I should — after all, she’s the one who got Jessica and Forbes interested.’

Rebus heard the sound of a vehicle squealing to a stop in the street outside. He straightened up and walked to the window, peering down on to the roofs of two patrol cars, their lights flashing.

‘We had a good long talk, all four of us,’ Traynor was saying, almost for his own benefit rather than Rebus’s. ‘Cleared the air. Alice really liked Forbes, but he belonged to Jessica. That was why she started seeing his father — it was the next closest thing. They’re just kids, yeah? They don’t always know what they’re doing. Forbes said he was sorry for leaving Jessica in the lurch the night of the crash. He was planning to run to his folks’ place and fetch help. There was nobody home, and by the time he got back to the Golf, Jessica was already on her way to A and E. .’

‘John?’ It was Fox’s voice. He was standing in the doorway. ‘Bathroom,’ he said.

Rebus walked back along the hall until he found it. Rory Bell lay in the empty white porcelain tub. Fully dressed, his neck twisted at an unusual angle, eyes open and glassy. Rebus felt in the man’s pockets and pulled out a set of car keys. One trouser leg had ridden up, showing a pale, hairless calf. He tugged the material back down again, as if to add the smallest touch of dignity to the scene.

A scene that would be photographed, swabbed for prints and gone over by a team of SOCOs. The SOCOs Rebus now needed to call. Heart pounding, he walked slowly towards and into the living room. Owen Traynor hadn’t moved.

‘Nobody scares my daughter like that, Rebus. Not if they want to live.’

‘He didn’t bring anyone with him?’

Traynor shook his head. ‘Had to be the two of us — I was adamant about that.’

‘This was last night? Late last night? And you’ve been sitting here ever since?’

‘What else was I going to do?’

Rebus turned towards Fox. ‘Get a couple of the uniforms from downstairs, will you?’

Fox nodded and turned to leave. Rebus walked over to the window again.

‘He can’t hurt her now,’ Owen Traynor was intoning. ‘I’ve made sure everybody’s safe.’

‘When my colleague comes back,’ Rebus explained quietly, ‘you’ll be cautioned. Do you want to call Jessica first and tell her what’s happening?’

‘It was easy, you know. Almost too easy — there was no strength in the man. And it almost wasn’t me at all; I was watching it happen from somewhere else. .’

‘You should call your daughter.’

‘I already did — maybe an hour ago. She said she’d come and help me. She said we could hide the body, or get rid of it somehow. But that wouldn’t do any good, would it?’

‘It wouldn’t,’ Rebus said. ‘Not in the long run.’

‘I thought about doing myself in, you know.’

‘Jessica will be happy you changed your mind.’

‘She’s the one thing that stopped me.’ Traynor had joined Rebus at the window. ‘That his car?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘What’s so interesting about it?’

‘We’re hoping to find out. The man you killed was no saint, Mr Traynor.’

‘Can’t say I’ve encountered too many saints in my life.’

‘Me neither,’ Rebus agreed.

Outside, he used Rory Bell’s key to open the boot of the X5.

‘Bloody hell,’ Fox gasped.

A couple of shotguns and their cartridges. A holdall filled with bags of white powder. Thick bundles of what looked like counterfeit cash. Plus a laptop, Rolexes, necklace and brooch — the proceeds from the break-in at the McCuskey house.

‘If I didn’t know better,’ Fox mused, ‘I’d say Owen Traynor just did the world a favour.’

‘Lucky you know better, then,’ Rebus responded, closing the boot and readying to wait for the SOCOs.

‘You two look pretty chirpy,’ Siobhan Clarke said as Fox and Rebus marched into Torphichen police station. She had been waiting for them, so that all three could report to DCI Ralph.

‘How’s Maggie Blantyre?’ Rebus asked.

‘Shell-shocked.’

‘And Dod?’

‘His nephew’s coping. Meantime. .’ She fixed her eyes on Malcolm Fox. ‘Solicitor General wants a nice long debrief from you — Philip Kennedy, Billy Saunders, Summerhall. .’

Fox tried not to look in Rebus’s direction. ‘There’s not much actual evidence. A lot’s going to remain circumstantial.’

‘Tell her that,’ she said, leading the way to Ralph’s office. He was behind his desk, but got up to shake hands before gesturing for them to sit down.

‘We picked up Rory Bell’s goons,’ he said. ‘They’re in interview rooms one and two. With the charges hanging over them, I reckon at least one will end up telling us the story of the visit to the Justice Minister’s house. Looks like we all got results to be proud of — with the possible exception of DCI Page.’ Ralph was focusing on Rebus. ‘I know you’ve had your share of run-ins with him, but there’ll be a job for you somewhere. Meantime, I hope the three of you have planned a celebration of some kind.’

‘On Police Scotland’s tab?’ Clarke asked.

‘Doubtful — we’re supposed to be saving money, remember.’

‘Then it’ll probably be a Greggs pasty and a bottle of pop.’

‘As long as it’s not in office hours.’ Ralph smiled, flicking a hand in the direction of the door to let them know the meeting was over.

Instead of leaving the station straight away, Rebus went in search of the interview room he wanted. He walked in, identifying himself to the officers who were questioning the guard from the Livingston car park. The man was no longer in uniform. He wore a camouflage jacket and matching trousers. His arms were folded and he was scowling. Seated alongside him was a lawyer, a downtrodden-looking individual holding a cheap ballpoint pen over a lined notebook. Rebus asked the detectives if he could have two minutes. They didn’t look happy about it, but he stood his ground and eventually they exited the room. The lawyer stayed, but that was fine with Rebus. He leaned his knuckles against the edge of the table and loomed over the man who had punched him.