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“You’ve been busy.” Rebus opened one of the folders; nothing in it he hadn’t seen before.

“Ray Duff’s promised me he’ll go to the lab today.”

“He has his eyes on the prize.”

She gave him a hard look before emptying the final box. The amount of paperwork caused her shoulders to slump.

“Day of rest, eh?” Rebus said. A phone started ringing.

“Yours,” Siobhan said. He went over to the sofa, lifted the cell from his jacket’s inside pocket.

“Rebus,” he a

He snapped the phone shut.

“Cafferty?” she guessed.

“How did you know?”

“He does something to you…your voice, your face. What does he want?”

“He went to my flat. Says there’s something I need to see. No way I was letting him come here.”

“Much appreciated.”

“He’s got some land deal going on, needs to get to the site.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Rebus knew there was no way to refuse.

Queen Street… Charlotte Square… Lothian Road. Rebus’s Saab, Siobhan the wary passenger, gripping the doorsill with her left hand. They’d been stopped at barriers, made to show ID to various uniforms. Reinforcements were on their way into the city: Sunday was when the big exodus of officers north was due to happen. Siobhan had learned as much during her two days with Macrae, passed the info along to Rebus.

As they waited at lights on Lothian Road, they saw people standing outside the Usher Hall.

“The alternative summit,” Siobhan said. “That’s where Bianca Jagger’s due to speak.”

Rebus just rolled his eyes. In return, she smacked a fist into the side of his thigh.

“Did you see the march on TV? Two hundred thousand!”

“Nice day out for all concerned,” Rebus commented. “Doesn’t change the world I’m living in.” He looked at her. “What about Niddrie last night? Have the ripples from all those positive vibes managed to stretch that far?”

“There were only a dozen of them, John, against two thousand in the camp.”

“I know which side my money’d be on…”

After which they sat in silence until reaching Fountainbridge.

Once an area of breweries and factories where Sean Co

“You’re Mr. Rebus?” he asked through the driver’s-side window.

“That’s right.”

The young man waited to see if Rebus was about to introduce Siobhan. Then he gave a nervous smile and handed over a brochure. Rebus glanced at it before passing it on.

“You’re a real estate agent?”

“I work for Bishops Solicitors, Mr. Rebus. Commercial property. Let me give you my card…” He was reaching into his jacket.

“Where’s Cafferty?”

The tone of voice made the young man more nervous still. “Parked around the side.”

Rebus didn’t wait to hear more.





“He obviously thinks you’re one of Cafferty’s team,” Siobhan said. “And from the line of sweat on his top lip, I’d say he knows who Cafferty is.”

“Whatever he thinks, it’s good news he’s here.”

“Why?”

Rebus turned to her. “Makes it less likely we’re walking into a trap.”

Cafferty’s car was a dark blue Bentley GT. He was standing over it, pressing a plan of the site against the hood so it wouldn’t blow away.

“Here, take a corner, will you?” he said. Siobhan obliged. Cafferty gave her a smile. “DS Clarke. A pleasure as ever. Promotion can’t be too far off, eh? Especially when the chief constable’s trusting you with something this big.”

Siobhan glanced toward Rebus, who shook his head, letting her know he wasn’t Cafferty’s source.

“CID leaks like a sieve” was Cafferty’s explanation. “Always has, always will.”

“What do you want with this place?” Siobhan couldn’t help asking.

Cafferty slapped a hand against the unruly sheet of paper. “Land, DS Clarke. We don’t always realize how precious it is in Edinburgh. You’ve got the Firth of Forth to the north, North Sea to the east, and the Pentland Hills to the south. Developers are scrabbling about for projects, putting pressure on the council to free up the Green Belt. And here’s a twenty-acre plot only five minutes’ walk from the financial district.”

“So what would you do with it?”

“Apart,” Rebus interrupted, “from burying a few bodies in the foundations.”

Cafferty decided to laugh at this. “That book made me a bit of money. Need to invest it somehow.”

“Mairie Henderson thinks your share went to charity,” Rebus said.

Cafferty ignored him. “Did you read it, DS Clarke?”

She hesitated, giving Cafferty his answer. “Like it?” he asked.

“Don’t really remember.”

“They’re thinking of turning it into a film. The early chapters, at any rate.” He lifted the plan and folded it, tossed it onto the Bentley’s backseat. “I’m not sure about this place.” He turned his attention to Rebus. “You mentioned bodies, and that’s what I get a sense of. All the people who used to work here, all of them gone, and Scottish industry along with them. A lot of my family were miners-I’ll bet you didn’t know that.” He paused. “You’re from Fife, Rebus. I’m betting you grew up surrounded by coal.” He paused. “I was sorry to hear about your brother.”

“Sympathy from the devil,” Rebus said. “That’s all I need.”

“A killer with a social conscience,” Siobhan added in an undertone.

“I wouldn’t be the first…” Cafferty’s voice drifted off. He rubbed a finger along the underside of his nose. “In fact, maybe that’s what’s landed on your plate.” He reached into the car again, opening the glove box this time. Drew out some rolled-up sheets of paper and made to hand them to Siobhan.

“Tell me what they are,” she asked, hands on hips.

“They’re your case, DS Clarke. Proof that we’re dealing with a bad bastard. A bad bastard who likes other bad bastards.”

She took the papers but didn’t look at them. “We’re dealing with?” Quoting his own words back at him.

Cafferty’s attention turned to Rebus. “Doesn’t she know that’s the deal?”

“There was never a deal,” Rebus stated.

“Like it or not, I’m on your side in this one.” Cafferty’s eyes were on Siobhan again. “These papers cost me some substantial favors. If they help you catch him, I’ll accept that. But I’ll be hunting him, too…with you or without you.”

“Then why help us?”

Cafferty’s mouth twitched. “Makes the race that bit more exciting.” He held open the back door of the Bentley. “Bags of space in the rear…make yourselves at home.”

Rebus joined Siobhan on the backseat, while Cafferty sat in the front. Both detectives were aware of Cafferty’s gaze. He wanted them to be impressed.

Rebus, for one, was finding it hard not to give anything away. He wasn’t just impressed; he was amazed.

Keogh’s Garage was in Carlisle. One of the mechanics, Edward Isley, had been found murdered three months back, his body dumped on waste ground just outside the city. A blow to the head and a toxic injection of heroin. The body had been naked from the waist up. No witnesses, no clues, no suspects.

Siobhan met Rebus’s eyes.