Clarke walked over to the window. Large black car as before; driver on the pavement, his phone illuminating his face. She held up her own phone, selecting camera and zooming in as far as possible. She snapped a picture of the driver, peering at it. Too grainy to be of any use in putting a name to him.
‘Pity,’ she said to herself.
It always helped to know your enemies.
Fox got into the back seat next to Cafferty, the armrest lowered between them.
‘I’m trying to be patient, Malcolm,’ Cafferty drawled. ‘But it goes against my nature.’
Fox opened his mouth to speak, but then noticed that Cafferty’s focus had shifted. He was looking at something through the window. Turning, Fox spotted Clarke crossing the road.
‘She doesn’t know about the tapes or the ACC,’ he managed to tell Cafferty. ‘Let me deal with her…’
The front passenger door opened and Clarke threw herself onto the seat. The driver was moving towards the car, but Cafferty slid his window down.
‘It’s okay, Benny,’ he said.
‘Does Benny have a surname?’ Clarke asked.
‘I assume so. Nice of you to join us, Siobhan.’
‘Shouldn’t you be holding court at your club?’
‘I’m after a progress report, that’s all. You know Malcolm’s been doing a bit of work for me?’
‘I know he’s been looking at Stewart Scoular, yes.’
‘I feel I’ve not been getting my money’s worth–not that money has changed hands.’
‘I’m here to tell you he’s not been slacking.’
‘Might help,’ Fox added, eyes on Cafferty, ‘if I knew what exactly it is you think I’m going to find.’
Rather than answer, Cafferty kept his focus on Clarke. He even leaned his head forward a little into the gap between the back seats and the front.
‘So Malcolm’s been holding out on you, Siobhan? Hasn’t told you about the recordings of Jenni Lyon’s partner playing away from home–I hope he’s cooled down, by the way. He was going to fall on his sword, but that doesn’t seem to have happened. My guess is, Malky had a word with Jenni and Jenni had a word with the love rat.’
‘Recordings made at your club?’
‘And elsewhere.’ Cafferty glanced in Fox’s direction and grinned. ‘Didn’t know that, did you, Malky boy? I’m laying all my cards on the table right here. And I want Siobhan in the loop, because it seems to me you’ve been unwilling to trust her.’
‘You want me in the loop,’ Clarke corrected him, ‘because you’re trying to cause a rift between me and Malcolm–and that’s not going to happen.’
The grin this time was aimed at the front seat. ‘She’s sharp, isn’t she, Malky?’
‘His name is Fox–Detective Inspector Fox to the likes of you.’
‘It’s that sort of attitude that can turn a concerned citizen against the powers of law and order and send them to the internet or the media with their little explosive package of recordings.’
‘If you want Scoular so badly,’ Clarke retorted, ‘go after him yourself.’
‘In fact,’ Fox said, pulling back his shoulders, ‘maybe we should go have a word with Mr Scoular. I’m sure he’d be tickled to know of your interest in him.’
‘And one other thing,’ Clarke added. ‘These tapes–I’m guessing you told Malcolm that releasing them would end ACC Lyon’s career. But that’s hardly a result for you, is it? Far better to hang onto them in the expectation that she’ll soon be Chief Constable. Think of the extra leverage you’d have on her then.’ She was shaking her head slowly. ‘You never planned to release them, did you? It’s all just talk–you’re all just talk.’
‘That’s a gamble you’re willing to take?’ Cafferty’s eyes were on Fox now. ‘Yes or no, DI Fox? Or hadn’t you better check with your boss first, see what she wants you to do?’
Fox’s mouth opened a fraction, but no words formed. Clarke had opened the car door and was swivelling her legs out onto the roadway. Cafferty’s hand clamped around Fox’s forearm.
‘Think very carefully, DI Fox.’ He nodded towards Clarke’s back. ‘This isn’t your future–Gartcosh is; Jennifer Lyon is; a seat at the top table is.’
Fox shook his arm free and opened the door. ‘My future, my decision,’ he said, climbing out.
‘Absolutely.’ Cafferty was laughing lightly as Fox slammed the door closed. Clarke, having given up asking Benny for his surname, was on her way back to the station’s main door. Fox caught her up.
‘Lyon knows all about this?’ she asked in an undertone.
‘Yes.’
‘That’s the armour you were talking about?’ Fox nodded. ‘In which case, he’ll think he’s already won.’
‘How do you make that out?’
‘Even if you give him nothing, he can say you did his bidding, and Lyon knew about it and sanctioned it.’
‘So?’
‘So the pair of you might have to go on record and deny it–in other words, lie to whoever is asking.’
‘And?’
She stopped just short of the door, turning so she was face to face with him. ‘He tapes everything that happens in his club, Malcolm. What makes you think he stops there?’
‘The car?’
‘All it takes is for him to switch on his phone’s voice memo app. Plus you’ve been in his penthouse. Chances are everything you said there has been recorded.’
Fox couldn’t help looking over his shoulder at the car. It was starting to move, but Cafferty had left the rear window open, his eyes on the two detectives as he passed.
‘He’s won,’ Fox said quietly, statement rather than question. ‘I feel a bit sick.’
‘I hope it wasn’t the fish,’ Clarke replied, making show of pressing her hand to her stomach.
‘How can you joke about this?’
She considered for a moment and then shrugged. ‘Thinking he’s won doesn’t mean he has. It’s not over yet, Malcolm.’ She watched the car glide away from them into the night. ‘Not nearly over…’
As Benny drove to the Jenever Club, Cafferty phoned Cole Burnett.
‘It’s your Uncle Morris, Cole. How are things at your end?’
The teenager’s voice was nasal and ever-so-slightly slurred. ‘It’s all good, all good.’
‘Got
