Black Book

‘Ah. And now you’re thinking of taking the law into your own hands, as they say in the films.’

‘How did you know?’

‘You’re not the first bobby I’ve had in this confessional. There are a few Catholics in the police force.’ This time Rebus did smile. ‘So what is it you’re going to do?’

‘I’ve got a gun.’

There was an intake of breath. ‘Now that’s serious. Oh yes, that’s serious. But you must see that if you use a gun, you turn into that which you despise so much. You turn into them.’ The priest managed to hiss this last word.

‘So what?’ Rebus asked.

‘So, ask yourself this. Can you live the rest of your life with the memories and the guilt?’ The voice paused. ‘I know what you Calvinists, think. You think you’re doomed from the start, so why not raise some hell before you get there? But I’m talking about this life, not the next! Do you want to live in Purgatory before you die?’

‘No.’

‘You’d be a bloody eejit to say anything else. Tie that gun to a roc and chuck it in the Forth, that’s where it belongs.’

‘Thank you, father.’

‘You’re more than welcome. And son?’

‘Yes, father?’

‘Come back and talk to me again. I like to know what madness you Prods are thinking. It gives me something to chew on when there’s nothing good on the telly.’

Rebus didn’t spend long at Gorgie Road. They weren’t getting anywhere. The photos taken so far had been developed, and some of the faces identified. Those identified were all small-timers, old cons, or up-and corners. They weren’t so much small fish as spawn in a corner of the pond. It wasn’t as if Flower was having better luck, which was just as well for Rebus. He couldn’t wait for the Little Weed to put in his reimbursement claim. All those rounds of drinks …

He felt revived by his talk with the priest, whose name he now realised he didn’t even know. But then that was part of the deal, wasn’t it? Sinners Anonymous. He might even grant the priest’s wish and go back sometime. And tonight he’d drive out to the coast and get rid of the gun. It had been madness all along. In a sense, buying it had been enough. He’d never have used it, would he?

He parked at St Leonard’s and went inside. There was a package for him at the front desk-the reservations book for the Heartbreak Cafe. Calder had put a note in with it.

‘Well, Elvis ate pizza, didn’t he?’ So it looked like the Heartbreak was about to go Italian.

While he’d been reading the note, the desk officer had been phoning upstairs, keeping his voice low.

‘What’s all that about?’ Rebus asked. He thought he’d overheard the distinct words ‘He’s here’.

‘Nothing, sir,’ said the desk officer. Rebus tried to stare an answer out of him, then turned away, just as the inner doors were pushed open in businesslike fashion by the Uglybug Sisters, Lauderdale and Flower.

‘Can I have your car-keys?’ Lauderdale demanded.

‘What’s going on?’ Rebus looked to Flower, who resembled a preacher at a burning.

‘The keys, please.’ Lauderdale’s hand was so steady, Rebus thought if he walked away and left the two men standing there, it would stay stretched out for hours. He handed over his keys.

‘It’s a pile of junk. If you don’t kick it in the right place, you won’t even get it to start.’ He was following the two men through the doors and into the car park.

‘I don’t want to drive it,’ Lauderdale said. He sounded threatening, but it was Flower’s serene silence that most worried Rebus. Then it hit him: the gun! They knew about the gun. And yes, it was still under his driver’s seat. Where else was he going to hide it-in the flat, where Michael might find it? In his trousers, where it would raise eyebrows? No, he’d left it in the car.

The door of which Lauderdale was now opening. Lauderdale turned towards him, his hand out again. ‘The gun, Inspector Rebus.’ And when Rebus didn’t move: ‘Give me the gun.’

24

He raised the gun and fired it-one, two, three shots. Then lowered it again.

They all took off their ear-protectors. The forensics man had fired the gun into what looked like a simple wooden crate. The bullets would be retrieved from its interior and could then be analysed. The scientist had been holding the gun’s butt with a polythene glove over his hand. He dropped the gun into a polythene bag of its own before slipping off the glove.

‘We’ll let you know as soon as we can,’ he told Chief Superintendent Watson, who nodded the man’s dismissal. After he’d left the room, Watson turned to Lauderdale.

‘Give it to me again, Frank.’

Lauderdale took a deep breath. This was the third time he’d told Watson the story, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all. ‘Inspector Flower came to me late this morning and told me he’d received information — ’

‘What sort of information?’

‘A phone call.’

‘Anonymous, naturally.’

‘Naturally.’ Lauderdale took another breath. ‘The caller told him the gun that had been used in the Central Hotel shooting five years ago was in Inspector Rebus’s possession. Then he rang off.’

‘And we’re supposed to believe Rebus shot that man five years ago?’

Lauderdale didn’t know. ‘All I know is, there was a gun in Rebus’s car. And he says himself, it’ll have his prints all over it. Whether it’s the same gun or not, we’ll know by the end of play today.’

‘Don’t sound so fucking cheerful! We both know this is a stitch-up.’

‘What we know, sir,’ said Lauderdale, ignoring Watson’s outburst, ‘is that Inspector Rebus has been carrying on a little private investigation of his own into the Central Hotel. The files are by the side of his desk. He wouldn’t tell anyone why.’

‘So he found something out and now somebody’s worried. That’s why they’ve planted the-’

‘With respect, sir,’ Lauderdale paused, ‘nobody planted anything. Rebus has admitted he bought the gun from someone he calls “a stranger”. He specifically asked this “stranger” to get a gun for him.’

‘What for?’

‘He says he was being threatened. Of course, he could be lying.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Maybe the gun was the clue he found, the one that started him back into the Central files. Now he’s spinning this story because at least then we can’t accuse him of withholding evidence.’

Watson took this in. ‘What do you think?’

‘Without prejudice, sir-’

‘Come on, Frank, we all know you hate Rebus’s guts. When he saw you and Flower coming for him, he must have thought the lynch-mob had arrived.’

Lauderdale tried an easy laugh. ‘Personalities aside, sir, even if we stick to the bare facts, Inspector Rebus is in serious trouble. Even supposing he did buy the gun, it’s obviously a nasty piece of goods-it’s had a file taken to it in the past.’

‘He’s worse than ever,’ Watson mused, ‘now that his girlfriend’s kicked him out. I had high hopes there.’

‘Sir?’

‘She’d got him wearing decent clothes. Rebus was beginning to loo…promotable.’

Lauderdale nearly swallowed his tongue.

‘Stupid bugger,’ Watson went on. Lauderdale decided he was talking about Rebus. ‘I suppose I’d better talk to him.’

‘Do you want me t…?’