She shook her head. ‘I can’t keep him shut up in my flat all day–or his owner’s, come to that.’
‘Is there maybe a neighbour?’ Clarke’s eyes bored into his. Fox lifted both hands. ‘No, no, no. I told you, I’m not an animal person. Besides which, I’m working the same insane hours as you.’
‘And neither of us with much to show for it.’
‘What about someone else in the office–Christine or Ronnie? You could pull rank on either of them.’
‘It’s crossed my mind.’ Clarke dug her phone out of her pocket and checked the screen. ‘Speak of the devil,’ she said, answering. ‘What can I do for you, Christine?’
‘We’ve just had the most colossal break in the case.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Time was you might have fallen for that.’
Clarke could hear the soft clatter of computer keyboards in the background.
‘Getting a bit bored in the office, are we?’
‘Obviously, but I’m phoning to see if you think John Rebus might be up for a night at the theatre.’
‘The theatre?’
‘Remember I told you Lee Child and Karin Slaughter are coming to Edinburgh? Well, it’s tonight and my date’s dropped out, meaning I’ve got a spare.’
‘John’s still up north.’
‘In which case, this is your lucky day.’
‘Have you asked Ronnie?’
‘He only reads comics.’
‘Graphic novels.’ Clarke heard Ronnie Ogilvie correcting Esson from across the desk.
‘I’ll let you know,’ she said. ‘Has my absence been noted yet?’
‘The DCI’s had another summons from our lords and masters. Ronnie and me are about to bask in front of several hours’ worth of CCTV.’
‘I won’t keep you then. Bye, Christine.’ Clarke ended the call and then whistled for Brillo to come to her, readying his leash. She glanced in Fox’s direction. ‘It was nothing earth-shaking then, your trip to Gartcosh?’
‘No,’ he said with a shake of the head.
‘No updates from London about Middle Eastern hit squads jetting in and out again?’
‘Passenger lists have been scoured. Special Branch are nothing if not thorough.’
‘You stressed that we’re all working ourselves to death here?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘That’s fine then.’ Clarke had taken a couple of steps in the direction of Melville Drive, but stopped when she saw that Fox wasn’t about to accompany her.
‘I’m parked that way,’ he said, gesturing in the vague direction of the university buildings beyond the Meadows.
‘That’s miles away,’ Clarke said. He offered a slight wrinkling of his mouth.
‘Catch you back at base,’ he said, turning away from her.
She watched him go. He half turned his head as if to check on her, then quickened his pace. Clarke started walking in the opposite direction, Brillo looking up at her, wondering if she might morph back into his owner. He seemed happy enough when she scooped him up into her arms, turning to follow Fox. There was no good reason that she could think of for him to have parked so far away. He had his phone out, looking at it as he walked. Clarke made a slight detour off the path and onto the grass. There were plenty of pedestrians about, plenty of dog-walkers and students playing with frisbees and footballs. An observant eye might still spot her, but there were no further backward glances from Fox as he headed up Middle Meadow Walk. He took a left at the first café, heading into the Quartermile complex. There was an underground car park there, but it was pricey. Too pricey, she reckoned, for the frugal Malcolm Fox. Reaching the narrow footpath that led down the side of the café, she saw no sign of him. The street ahead was clear. So either he had descended into the car park or…
She tiptoed through the nearest gateway and glanced around a corner towards the entrance to the first of the modern apartment blocks. Its glass door was just rattling closed. She waited a moment, then moved towards the door, still cautious. Looking through the glass, she watched as the quartz display panel above the lift ticked over a series of numbers, pausing on a letter rather than a number.
P for penthouse.
Clarke met Brillo’s questioning eyes. ‘We know who lives there, don’t we, boy?’ she said in a whisper. Then, staring upwards, her neck arched: ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Malcolm. I really do…’
As soon as he left Cafferty’s block, Fox got on the phone to Jennifer Lyon.
‘It’s tame stuff,’ he informed her. ‘They’re in the Jenever Club. Upstairs at first, till a flunkey hands them a card. It confers VIP status, so they head to that area of the club.’
‘Go on.’
‘There’s a bit of dancing… kisses and cuddles.’ He cleared his throat.
‘Yes?’
‘That’s about the sum of it. They’re intimate, but there’s no actual…’
‘I get the picture.’
‘Cafferty says it wasn’t their only visit to the place, but my guess is, if he had anything more incriminating he’d have shown it to me.’
‘Okay, thanks.’
‘It really is fairly tame.’
‘Nevertheless, he was sleeping with her. If Cafferty releases the footage, Dennis would have some explaining to do.’
‘He could always deny it went any further.’
Fox heard her sigh. ‘I’ve looked up this man Scoular online. He seems perfectly legit. Did Cafferty give you any more of a clue why he’s interested or what he thinks we might find?’
‘None.’
‘Then let’s go ahead and buy ourselves some time.’
‘By digging a bit deeper into Scoular’s life?’
‘As a salient part of the bin Mahmoud inquiry.’
‘Whatever you say, ma’am.’
‘I appreciate this, Malcolm. Don’t think I’ll forget it.’
‘Thank you.’
When the call ended, Fox found he had a bit of extra spring in his step as he headed towards his car. One thing he didn’t think Lyon needed to know about–the brief foray by her husband and his lady friend into the alcove occupied by Scoular and his associates. The line of cocaine offered and accepted. Followed by champagne and laughter and the sheer look of relaxed pleasure on Dennis Jones’s face…
*
‘See when I phone you, Benny,’ Cafferty snarled into his mobile as he stood by his apartment window, staring out across the city, ‘I expect you to
