A message on his desk warned of a nine-thirty meeting in the Farmer’s office. Rebus felt he deserved another coffee, and made for the canteen. A lone woman sat at a table, slowly stirring a beaker of tea.
‘Gill?’
She looked up. It was Gill Templer. Rebus’s face broke into its first grin of the year. He pulled out a chair and sat down.
‘Hello, John.’ Her eyes were on her drink.
‘I thought you were in Fife.’
‘Yes.’
‘Sex Offences Unit, isn’t it?’
‘That’s it.’
He nodded, trying to ignore the coolness in her tone. ‘You look good.’ He meant it too. Her short dark hair was feather-cut, long crescents sweeping over both ears to her cheeks. Her eyes were emerald green. She hadn’t changed a bit. Gill Templer smiled an acknowledgment but didn’t say anything.
Brian Holmes put a hand on Rebus’s shoulder. ‘Those pathology tests have come in.’
‘Oh?’
Holmes went to fetch himself coffee and a dough-ring, Rebus following. ‘So what’s the news?’ he asked.
Holmes took a bite out of his dough-ring and shrugged. ‘Nothing,’ he mumbled, swallowing. ‘The professor can’t confirm the presence of heroin or any other drug in the blood of either deceased. He thinks he may have a couple of jab marks on one corpse, but they’re not recent.’
‘Which body?’
‘The shorter.’
‘Dixie.’ Rebus lifted his coffee and left Holmes to pay for it. When he turned, Gill Templer wasn’t at the table any more. She had left the beaker of tea untouched.
‘Who was she?’ Holmes asked, tucking change back into his pocket.
‘Someone I used to know.’
‘Well, that narrows things down.’
Rebus picked a new table for them to sit at.
DI Alister Flower looked like he was on his way to a fashion shoot for one of the stores on Princes Street.
‘Run out of dummies, have they?’ Rebus asked, entering Farmer Watson’s office.
Flower was wearing a light blue suit with blue shirt and a black and white tie with a zig-zag motif. He’d set things off with polished brown loafers and what looked like white tennis socks. Rebus sat down next to him and realised his own shoes could do with a polish. There was a speck of grease from the bacon roll on his shirt.
‘I’ve called this meeting,’ the Farmer was saying, ‘to put your minds at rest.’
‘Inspector Flower’s mind’s always at rest, sir,’ Rebus said.
Flower attempted an unselfconscious laugh, and Rebus realised how desperate the man was.
‘See, John,’ said the Farmer, ‘you always have to make a joke of things.’
‘Leave them laughing, sir.’ But the Farmer wasn’t laughing, and Rebus knew what that silence meant — as long as Rebus maintained ‘an attitude’, he’d find promotion impossible.
Which left Alister Flower.
‘Aly,’ the Farmer began. Flower sat to attention; Rebus had never seen the trick before. ‘Aly, can I get you a refill?’
Flower looked at his cup, then gulped the contents down. ‘Please, sir.’
The Farmer got up from his desk, took Flower’s cup, and walked to the coffee machine. He had his back to both men when he spoke.
‘The temporary replacement for Frank Lauderdale will start immediately.’
It hit Rebus then. It was like he’d assumed a new, much greater mass.
‘Her name,’ the Farmer went on, ‘is Gill Templer.’
Flower made straight for the toilets, where he could conduct a swearing match with the mirror. Rebus walked thoughtfully back to the CID room. Gill was already there, reading a pathology report.
‘Congratulations,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’ She kept on reading. He didn’t budge till she stopped and looked up at him. ‘John?’ she said quietly.
‘Yes, boss?’
‘My office.’
Lauderdale’s name was still on the door; they wouldn’t bother with a new plaque, not yet. But Rebus noticed she’d already changed a few things.
‘Don’t bother sitting,’ she said. Rebus brought out a packet of cigarettes. ‘Come on, you know the rules: no smoking.’
He put the cigarette in his mouth. ‘I’ll just suck on it then,’ he said.
She closed the door, then went to Lauderdale’s desk, resting against it, folding her arms.
‘John, there’s a lot of history here.’ Rebus looked around the office. ‘You know what I mean. I hear you and Dr Aitken have split up.’
Rebus took the cigarette out of his mouth. ‘So?’
‘So you’re on the rebound, and I don’t want you thinking I could be your springboard. Don’t go thinking you can jump me a few times before you dive back in the pool.’
Rebus smiled. ‘Did I catch you rehearsing in the canteen?’
‘All I mean is, let’s leave the past well alone, let’s keep things professional.’
‘Fine.’ He put the cigarette back in his mouth.
She went behind the desk and sat down. ‘So, what can you tell me about these two imbeciles who shut the Forth Bridge?’
‘Hoaxers, maybe with debts or a habit to finance. Desperadoes. No sign that they ever knew the girl. Howdenhall checked the car; there are none of her prints inside.’
‘So why were you so interested in the toxicology results?’
‘Was I?’
‘Someone came looking for you in the canteen to tell you they’d arrived.’
Rebus smiled again. ‘I just wonder if maybe they were working for someone else.’
‘Do you have a name?’
‘Paul Duggan. He loaned the desperadoes his car. Plus they were sub-letting his council house.’
‘That’s illegal.’
‘Yes, it is. We might want to ask him a few follow-up questions.’
She thought this over, then nodded. ‘What else are you working on?’
He shrugged. ‘Not a lot, it’s always quiet this time of year.’
‘Let’s hope it stays that way. I know your reputation, John. It was bad enough when I knew you, but the story goes that it’s even worse these days. I don’t want trouble.’
Rebus looked out of the window. It had started snowing. ‘Weather like this,’ he said, ‘there’s never much trouble in Edinburgh, trust me.’
7
Hugh McAnally was universally known as Wee Shug. He didn’t know why people called Hugh always ended up nicknamed Shug. There were a lot of things he didn’t know, and never would know. He wished he’d spent his time in jail bettering himself. He supposed he’d bettered himself in some ways: he could use machine tools, and knew how a sofa was put together. But he knew he wasn’t educated, not like his cell-mate. His cell-mate had been
