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EPILOGUE
Jack Bell had spared no expense during the preliminary organization of his son’s defense. Not that James had seemed to notice. He’d remained adamant that he wasn’t going to fight anything. He was guilty, and that was what he’d say in court.
Nevertheless, the solicitor engaged by Jack Bell was reckoned to be the best Scotland had to offer. He was based in Glasgow, and charged traveling time to Edinburgh at his standard rate. Immaculately dressed in chalk-stripe suit and burgundy bow tie, he smoked a pipe whenever such was permitted, and held the pipe in his left hand at what seemed all other times.
As he sat opposite Jack Bell now, one leg crossed over the other at the knee, staring at a patch of wall just above the MSP’s head. Bell had become used to his ways, and knew this was by no means an indication that the lawyer was distracted-rather, that he was focused on the matter at hand.
“We’ve got a case,” the lawyer said. “A pretty good one, I’d say.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes.” The lawyer examined the stem of his pipe, as if for flaws. “It all boils down to this, you see-Detective Inspector Rebus belongs to Derek Renshaw’s family… a cousin, to be precise. As a result of which, he should never have been let near the case.”
“Conflict of interest?” Jack Bell guessed.
“Self-evidently. You can’t have a relation of one of the victims going in and questioning possible suspects. Then there’s the matter of his suspension. You may not know this, but DI Rebus was being investigated by his own force at the time of the events at Port Edgar.” The lawyer’s attention had shifted to the pipe’s bowl, scrutinizing its interior. “A question of possible proceedings being taken against him in a murder case…”
“Better and better.”
“Nothing came of it, but all the same, one does have to wonder at the Lothian and Borders Police. I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard of an officer on suspension being able to move so freely around another ongoing inquiry.”
“It’s irregular, then?”
“Unheard-of, I’d suggest. Which leads to very serious questions about the validity of much of the Crown’s case.” The lawyer paused, tested the pipe between his teeth, his mouth forming a shape that might have been taken for a grin. “There are so many possible objections and technicalities, the Crown might even be forced to concede without the need of anything other than a preliminary hearing.”
“In other words, the case would be tossed out?”
“It’s entirely feasible. I’d say we’ve got a very strong case.” The lawyer paused for effect. “But only if James were to plead not guilty.”
Jack Bell nodded, and the two men’s eyes met for the first time, then both heads turned to face James, who was seated across the table.
“Well, James?” the lawyer said. “What do you think?”
The teenager seemed to be considering the offer. He returned his father’s stare as if it were all the nourishment he needed and he had a hunger that would never be stilled.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ian Rankin is the #1 bestselling mystery writer in the United Kingdom, with sixteen Inspector Rebus novels under his belt and legions of devoted fans all over the globe. He is the recipient of the prestigious Gold Dagger Award and the Chandler-Fulbright Award. He lives in Edinburgh with his wife and their two sons.