Страница 35 из 99
CN U MEET ME @ WGH
WGH meant the Western General Hospital. He hadn’t heard reports of any police injuries…no reason she’d have been in Princes Street or anywhere near.
Let me know how you got on!
He tried her number again on his way out to the lot. Nothing but the busy signal. Jumped into his car, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat. It rang before he’d gone fifty yards. He grabbed at it, flipped it open.
“Siobhan?” he asked.
“What?” A female voice.
“Hello?” Gritting his teeth as he tried to steer with one hand.
“Is this…I was looking for…No, never mind.” The phone died in his hand and he threw it toward the seat next to him. It bounced once and hit the floor. He wrapped both fists around the steering wheel and hit the accelerator hard.
10
There were lines of cars at the Forth Road Bridge. Neither of them really minded. There was plenty to talk about; plenty of thinking to be done, too. Siobhan had told Rebus all about it. Teddy Clarke would not be budged from his wife’s bedside. Staff had said they could make up a temporary bed for him. They were pla
“After the scan, they’ll take her to the eye pavilion. Know what the hardest thing was though, John?”
“Realizing your mum’s only human?” he’d guessed.
Siobhan had shaken her head slowly. “They came and questioned her.”
“Who?”
“Police.”
“Well, that’s something.”
At which she’d laughed harshly. “They weren’t looking to find out who’d hit her. They were asking what she’d done.”
Yes, of course, because hadn’t she been one of the rioters? Hadn’t she been in the vanguard?
“Christ,” Rebus had muttered. “Were you there?”
“If I had been, there’d’ve been hell to pay.” And a little later, just above a whisper: “I saw it down there, John.”
“Looked hairy, judging by the TV.”
“Police overreacted.” Staring hard at him, willing him to contradict her.
“You’re angry” was all he’d said, winding down his window for the security check.
By the time they reached Glenrothes, he’d told her about his own evening, warning her that she might get an e-mail from Tornupinside. She hardly seemed to be listening. At the Fife police HQ, they had to show ID three times before they could gain entry to Operation Sorbus. Rebus had decided not to mention his night in the cells-not her problem. His left hand was back to something like normal at last. It had only taken a box of ibuprofen.
It was a control room much like any other: security-camera pictures; civilian staff at computers, headsets on; maps of central Scotland. There was a live feed from the security fence at Gleneagles, cameras posted at each watchtower. Other feeds from Edinburgh, Stirling, the Forth Bridge. And traffic video from the M9, the highway passing alongside Auchterarder.
Night shift had kicked in, which meant voices were lowered, the atmosphere muted. Quiet concentration and a lack of hurry. No brass that Rebus could see, and no Steelforth. Siobhan knew one or two faces from her visit of the week before. She went to ask her favor, leaving Rebus to cross the room at his own pace. Then he, too, spotted someone. Bobby Hogan had been promoted to DCI after a result in a South Queensferry shooting. But with the promotion had come a move to Tayside. Rebus hadn’t seen him for a year or so but recognized the wiry silver hair, the way the head sunk into the shoulders.
“Bobby,” he said, holding out a hand.
Hogan’s eyes widened. “Christ, John, tell me we’re not that desperate.” He returned Rebus’s grip.
“Don’t worry, Bobby, I’m only acting as chauffeur. How’s life treating you?”
“Can’t complain. Is that Siobhan over there?” Rebus nodded. “Why is she talking to one of my officers?”
“She’s after some surveillance footage.”
“That’s one thing we’ve no shortage of. What does she want it for?”
“A case we’re working, Bobby…suspect might have been at that riot today.”
“Needle in a haystack,” Hogan commented, creasing his forehead. He was a couple of years younger than Rebus, but had more lines on his face.
“Enjoying being DCI?” Rebus asked, trying to deflect his friend’s attention.
“You should try it sometime.”
Rebus shook his head. “Too late for me, Bobby. How’s Dundee treating you?”
“I’ve got quite the bachelor pad.”
“I thought you and Cora were getting back together?”
Hogan’s face creased further. He shook his head vigorously, letting Rebus know it was a subject best avoided.
“This is quite an ops room,” he said instead.
“Command post,” Hogan said, puffing out his chest. “We’re in contact with Edinburgh, Stirling, Gleneagles.”
“And if the shit really does hit the fan?”
“The G8 moves to our old stomping ground-Tulliallan.”
Meaning the Scottish Police College. Rebus nodded to show he was impressed.
“Direct line to Special Branch, Bobby?”
Hogan just shrugged. “End of the day, John, it’s us in charge, not them.”
Rebus nodded again, this time feigning agreement. “Bumped into some of them, all the same.”
“Steelforth?”
“He’s strutting around Edinburgh like he owns the place.”
“He’s a piece of work,” Hogan admitted.
“I could put it another way,” Rebus confided, “but I better not…you two might be bestest pals.”
Hogan hooted. “Fat chance.”
“See, it’s not just him.” Rebus lowered his voice. “I had a run-in with some of his men. They’re in uniform, but no badges. Unmarked car, plus a van with lights but no siren.”
“What happened?”
“I was trying to be nice, Bobby…”
“And?”
“Let’s just say I hit a wall.”
Hogan looked at him. “Literally?”
“As good as.”
Hogan nodded his understanding. “You’d like a few names to go with their faces?”
“I can’t offer much of a description,” Rebus said apologetically. “They’d been in the sun, and one of them’s called Jacko. I think they’re from the southeast.”
Hogan thought for a moment. “Let me see what I can do.”
“Only if it means you staying under the radar, Bobby.”
“Relax, John. I told you, this is my show.” He placed a hand on Rebus’s arm, as if by way of reassurance.
Rebus nodded his thanks; decided it wasn’t his job to pierce his friend’s bubble…
Siobhan had narrowed her search. She was only interested in footage from the gardens, after all, and only within a thirty-minute period. Even so, there would be over a thousand photographs to look at, and film from a dozen different viewpoints. Which still left any security-camera evidence, plus video and stills shot by protesters and onlookers.
“Then there’s the media,” she’d been told. BBC News, ITV, Cha
“Let’s start with what we’ve got,” she’d said.
“There’s a booth you can use.”
She’d thanked Rebus for the lift and told him he’d best get home. She’d find a ride back to Edinburgh somehow.
“You’re staying here all night?”
“Maybe it won’t come to that.” Both knowing it might. “Cafeteria’s open twenty-four/seven.”
“And your parents?”
“I’ll head there first thing.” She’d paused. “If you can spare me…”
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”
“Thanks.” And she’d hugged him, not exactly sure why. Maybe just to feel human, the night stretching in front of her.
“Siobhan…Always supposing you find him, what then? He’ll say he was doing his job.”
“I’ll have proof that he wasn’t.”
“If you push it too hard…”