Black Book

away it wasn’t you.’

‘Would you? We wondered about that, we reckoned with Brian off the scene and Haymarket not your territory, it might just work.’

Rebus shook his head. ‘For a start, we take photographs, and I’d have seen them sooner or later. I always do.’ He paused. ‘So why did you kill him?’

‘It was an accident.’

‘Let me guess, you came back late to the restaurant after a pretty good bender. You were angry as hell to see Willie had coped. You had a fight, he smashed his head. Then you had an idea.’

‘Maybe.’

‘There’s only one rotten thing about the whole story,’ said Rebus. Eddie shifted on the sofa. He looked ridiculous in the kimono, and had folded his arms protectively. He was staring at the fireplace, avoiding Rebus altogether.

‘What?’ he said finally.

‘Pat said Willie ran out of the Cafe on Tuesday night. His body wasn’t found until Thursday morning. If he’d died in a fight on Tuesday, lividity and rigor mortis would have told the pathologist the body was old. But it wasn’t, it was fresh. Which means you didn’t booze him up and gas him until early Thursday morning. You must’ve kept him alive all day Wednesday, knowing pretty well what you were going to do with him.’

‘I’m not saying anything.’

‘No, I’m saying it. Like I say, a desperate remedy, Eddie. About as desperate as they come. Now come on.’

‘What?’

‘We’re taking a drive.’

‘Where to?’

‘Down to the station, of course. Get some clothes on.’ Rebus watched him try to stand up. His legs took a while to lock upright. Yes, murder could do that to you. It was the opposite of rigor mortis. It was liquefaction, the jelly effect. It took him a long time to dress, Rebus watching throughout. There were tears in Eddie’s eyes when he finished, and his lips were wet with saliva.

Rebus nodded. ‘You’ll do,’ he said. He, fully intended taking Eddie to St Leonard’s.

But they’d be taking the scenic route.

‘Where are we going?’

‘A little drive. Nice day for it.’

Eddie looked out of the windscreen. It was a uniform grey outside, buildings and sky, with rain threatening and the breeze gaining force. He started to get the idea when they turned up Holyrood Park Road, heading straight for Arthur’s Seat. And when Rebus took a right, away from Holyrood and in the direction of Duddingston, Eddie started to look very worried indeed.

‘You know where we’re going?’ Rebus suggested.

‘No.’

‘Oh well.’

He kept driving, drove all the way up to the gates of the house and signalled with his indicator that he was turning into the drive.

‘Christ, nor yelped Eddie Ringan. He tucked his knees in front of him, wedging them against the dashboard like he thought they were about to crash. Instead of turning in at the gates, Rebus cruised past them and stopped kerbside. You caught a glimpse of Cafferty’s mansion from here. Presumably, if someone up at the house were looking out of the right window, they could see the car.

‘No, no.’ Eddie was weeping.

‘You do know where we are,’ Rebus said, voicing surprise. ‘You know Big Ger, then?’ He waited till Eddie nodded. The chef had assumed a foetal position, feet on the seat beneath him, head tucked into his knees. ‘Are you scared of him?’ Eddie nodded again. ‘Why?’ Slowly, Eddie shook his head. ‘Is it because of the Central Hotel?’

‘Why did I have to tell Brian?’ It was a loud yell, all the louder for being confined by the car. ‘Why the fuck am I so stupid?’

‘They’ve found the gun, you know.’

‘I don’t know anything about that.’

‘You never saw the gun?’

Eddie shook his head. Damn, Rebus had been expecting more. ‘So what did you see?’

‘I was in the kitchens.’

‘Yes?’

‘This guy came running in, screaming at me to turn on the gas. He looked crazy, spots of blood on his fac…in his eyelashes.’ Eddie was calming as the exorcism took effect. ‘He started to turn on all the gas rings. Not lighting them. He looked so crazy, I helped him. I turned on the gas, just like he told me to.’

‘And then?’

‘I got out of there. I wasn’t sticking around. I thought the same as’ everybody else: it was for the insurance money. Till they found the body A week later, I got a visit from Big Ger. A painful visit. The message was never say a word, not a word about what happened.’

‘Was Big Ger there that night?’

Eddie shrugged. Damn him again! ‘I was in the kitchens. I only saw the crazy guy.’

Well, Rebus knew who that was-someone who’d seen the state of the Central kitchens. ‘Black Aengus?’ he asked.

Eddie didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just stared blearily out of the windscreen. Then: ‘Big Ger’s bound to find out I said something. Every now and then he sends another warning. Nothing physica…not to me, at least. Just to let me know he remembers. He’ll kill me.’ He turned his head to Rebus. ‘He’ll kill me, and all I did was turn on the, gas.’

‘The man with the blood, it was Aengus Gibson, wasn’t it?’

Eddie nodded slowly, screwing shut his eyes and wringing out tears. Rebus started the car. As he was driving off, he saw the 4x4 coming towards him from the opposite direction. It was signalling to pull into the gates, and the gates themselves were opening compliantly. The car was driven by a thug whose face was new to Rebus. In the back seat sat Mo Cafferty.

It bothered him, during the short drive back to St Leonard’s, with Eddie bawling and huddled in the passenger seat. It bothered him. Could Mo Cafferty drive at all? That would be easy enough to check: a quick chat with DVLC. If she couldn’t, if she needed a chauffeur, then who was driving the 4x4 that day Rebus had seen it parked outside Bone’s? And wasn’t that quite a coincidence anyway? John Rebus didn’t believe in coincidences.

‘The Heartbreak Cafe didn’t get its meat from Bone’s, did it?’ he asked Eddie, who misinterpreted the question. ‘I mean Bone’s the butcher’s shop,’ Rebus explained. But Eddie shook his head. ‘Never mind,’ said Rebus.

Back at St Leonard’s, the very person he wanted to see was waiting for him.

‘Why aren’t you out at Gorgie?’ he asked.

‘Why aren’t you on suspension?’ Siobhan Clarke asked back. ‘That’s below the belt. Besides, I asked first.’

‘I had to come and pick up these.’ She waved a huge brown envelope at him.

‘Well, listen, I’ve got a little job for you. Several, in fact. First, we need to have Eddie Ringan’s casket back up out of the ground.’

‘What?’

‘It’s not Eddie inside, I’ve just put him in the cells. You’ll need to interview and book him. I’ll tell you all about it.’

‘I’m going to need to write all this down.’

‘No you won’t, your memory’s good enough.’

‘Not when my brain’s in shock. You mean that wasn’t Eddie in the oven?’