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Rebus clawed his free hand through his hair, then realised he shouldn't have a free hand. The glass had dropped to the carpet, meaning he now had splashes of whisky on his shoes.

'What happened?' he asked.

'Precisely the question I was about to ask you,' she blurted out.

'What the hell happened at the canal?'

'We just talked.'

'Talked?'

'Cross my heart.'

'Must've been a pretty robust exchange, then, seeing how he's got a fractured skull. Plus broken bones, contusions…'

Rebus's eyes narrowed. 'He was found by the canal?'

'Too right he was.'

'Is that where you are now?'

'Shug Davidson took the trouble to call me.'

'I'll be there in five minutes.'

'No, you won't… you've been drinking, John. Your voice goes nasal after the first four or five.'

'So send a car for me.'

'John…'

'Just send a fucking car, SiobhanP He ran the hand through his hair again, pulling at it. I'm being set up here, he told himself.

'John, how can Shug let you near? Far as he's concerned, you're going to be a suspect. If he lets a suspect walk into a crime scene…'

Tfes, fine, absolutely.' Rebus was looking at his watch. 'It's about three hours since I left him. When was the body found?'

'Two and a half hours ago.'

'That's not good.' His mind was whirling. He started towards the

kitchen, thinking maybe a gallon of tap water would help. 'Did you send Calum Stone on that wild goose chase?'

'Yes.'

'Shit.'

'He's here right now, along with his partner.'

Rebus squeezed his eyes shut. 'Don't speak to them.'

'Bit late for that. I was talking to Shug when they arrived. Stone introduced himself, and guess what his first words to me were?'

'Something along the lines of, “Gosh, you sound just like the woman who sent me on a wild goose chase to a petrol station in Granton”?'

'That's about the size of it.'

'All you can do is tell the truth, Shiv – I ordered you to make that call.'

'And you were on suspension at the time – something knew fine well.'

'Christ, I'm sorry, Siobhan…' The tap was still ru

34

When the taxi dropped him at the Leamington Lift Bridge, she was waiting, arms folded, for all the world like the bouncer outside some exclusive club.

“You can't be here,' she reiterated through gritted teeth.

'I know,' he said. Plenty of onlookers: people who'd been heading home from a night out; locals from the neighbouring tenements; even a couple from one of the canal boats. They stood on deck, holding mugs of steaming liquid.

'Why's your hair wet?' Clarke asked.

'Didn't have time to dry it,' he answered. He could see everything; no need to get closer. SOCOs shining their torches against the surface of the opposite footpath. Arc lamps being plugged into some sort of mooring point – probably how the boats hooked up to electricity during their stay. Lots of quietly busy people. There was a huddle around one particular area of walkway.

'That where they found him?' he asked. Clarke nodded. 'Pretty much where he was when I left him.'

'Couple on their way home stumbled across him. One of the medics recognised the face. West End came ru

There were SOCOs up to their waists in the canal. They wore the same sort of protection as anglers, complete with braces holding up their oilskin trousers.

'They'll find one of my cigarette butts,' Rebus told Clarke. 'Unless it's floated away or been eaten by a duck.'

'That'll be nice when they trace the DNA.'

He turned towards her, gripping one of her arms. 'I'm not saying I wasn't here – I'm saying he was right as rain when I left him.'

She couldn't meet his eyes, and he let her go. 'Don't think what you're thinking,' he said quietly.

Tou don't know what I'm thinking!'

He turned away again and saw DI Shug Davidson giving orders to some of the uniforms from West End. Stone and Prosser were just behind him, deep in a discussion of their own.

'Any second now they'll see you,' Clarke warned. Rebus nodded.

He'd already taken a couple of steps back into the crowd of onlookers.

She followed him until they were standing to the rear.

This was where he'd parked his car the time he'd followed Cafferty.

His head was thumping.

'Got any aspirin?' he asked.

'No.'

'Never mind, I know where I can find some.'

She caught his meaning. 'You've got to be joking.'

'Never more serious in my life.'

She fixed her eyes on him, then glanced back towards the canal and made her mind up. 'I'll drive you,' she said. 'My car's on Gilmore Place.'

They didn't say much on the way to the Western General.

Cafferty had been taken there not only because it was closer than the Infirmary but also because it specialised in head injuries.

'Did you see him?' Rebus asked as they reached the hospital car park.

Clarke shook her head. 'When Shug called me, he thought he was the bearer of glad tidings.'

'He knows there's history between us and Cafferty,' Rebus agreed.

'But he could tell straight away something was up.'

Tou told him I'd gone to meet Cafferty?'

She shook her head again. 'I haven't told anyone.'

'Well, you better had – only way to keep your head above the shit. Stone's going to work it out before long.'

'Wait till they find out I've done a ru

He met her eyes. 'I didn't touch him.'

'So what did you talk about?'

'Andropov and Bakewell… Sievewright and Sol Goodyear…'

He shrugged, deciding to omit the abattoir bull. 'Fu

'I wish you had.' She sounded slightly more mollified.

'Does that mean you believe me?'

'I've got to, haven't I? All we've been through… if I can't believe you, what the hell else is there?'

'Thanks,' he said quietly, squeezing her hand.

TTou still owe me the story of your run-in with the SCDEA.' She removed her hand from beneath his.

'They've had Cafferty under surveillance. Heard I'd been watching him and warned me off.' He shrugged again. 'That's about the size of it.'

'And being bull-headed, you did exactly the opposite?'

Rebus had a sudden image: the bull with its legs buckling, a bullet between its eyes… He shook himself free of it. 'Let's go see what the damage is,' he said.

Inside the hospital, the first question they were asked was: 'Are you family?'

'He's my brother,' Rebus stated. This seemed to oil the wheels, and they were shown to a waiting area, deserted this time of night.

Rebus picked up a magazine. It was page after page of celebrity gossip, but as it was also six months out of date, chances were the celebrities had already been returned to obscurity. He offerecl it to Clarke, but she shook her head.

Tour brother?' she said.

Rebus just shrugged. His real brother had died a year and a half back. Over the past couple of decades, Rebus had paid him a lot less attention than Cafferty… probably spent less time with him, too.

You can't choose your family, he thought to himself, but you can choose your enemies.

'What if he dies?' Clarke asked, folding her arms. She had her legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, and was slumped low in the chair.

'I'm not that lucky,' Rebus told her. She glowered at him.

'So who do you reckon is behind it?'

'Can we make that a multiple-choice question?' he asked.

'How many names have you got?'