Saints of the Shadow Bible (Rebus) by Ian Rankin Read Free Book Online Page B

internal-affairs officers were not exempt. Their Edinburgh office was about to be trimmed. Besides which, Fox had served his allotted time. He was being shipped back to CID, where he would work alongside men and women he’d investigated, in stations he’d investigated, stations where he would be mistrusted if not reviled.
    The café owner brought over Clarke’s cappuccino and asked Fox if he wanted a refill. Fox nodded.
    ‘Black coffee, no sugar,’ he reminded the man.
    ‘Because you’re already too sweet?’ Clarke pretended to guess, eliciting a wry smile. She leaned back a little and turned to watch the pedestrians on the pavement outside. ‘So why am I fraternising with the enemy?’ she asked.
    ‘Maybe because you know I’m not the enemy. The Complaints exists so that cops like you – the good cops – can thrive.’
    ‘I bet you’ve said that before.’
    ‘Many times.’
    She turned towards him. He still had the same wry smile on his face.
    ‘You need a favour?’ she guessed, receiving a slow nod by way of reply. His coffee arrived and he touched the rim of the saucer with the tips of his fingers.
    ‘It’s to do with John Rebus,’ he stated.
    ‘Of course it is.’
    ‘I’ve got to talk to him.’
    ‘I’m not stopping you.’
    ‘The thing is, Siobhan, I need him to talk. And if the request comes from me, he’ll doubtless respond with a few choice words.’
    ‘Request?’
    ‘Order, then. And it won’t be coming from me, not ultimately . . .’
    ‘The Solicitor General?’ Clarke suggested. Fox tried not to look too surprised that she knew. ‘I saw her making a beeline for you at the Chief’s leaving do.’
    ‘She’s entrusted me with a job.’
    ‘A Complaints job?’
    ‘My last,’ he said quietly, staring at his saucer.
    ‘And if you break a sweat, she rewards you how? A big promotion? Something to lift you off the pitch and into the directors’ box?’
    ‘You’re good at this.’ Fox’s admiring tone sounded genuine enough.
    Clarke knew now what David Galvin had been hinting at during dinner at Bia Bistrot. How are things working out with your old sparring partner? Toeing the line? Obeying orders?
    ‘You really think I’m going to hand you John on a plate?’
    ‘It’s not Rebus I want – it’s people he knows, or used to know. I’m going back thirty years.’
    ‘Summerhall?’
    Fox paused and studied her. ‘He’s talked about it?’ She shook her head. ‘So how do you know?’ But he had worked it out within a few seconds. ‘That leaving do,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Eamonn Paterson was there. I saw him with Rebus . . .’
    ‘Then you know as much about Summerhall as I do. And I’m still no further forward as to why I should help you.’
    ‘Whatever happens, I’m going to end up asking Rebus some questions. I just think it would smooth things a little if there was a referee of some kind.’
    ‘A referee?’
    ‘To ensure fairness – on both sides.’
    She took a sip of coffee, then another. Fox did likewise, almost exactly mirroring her.
    ‘Is that supposed to be an empathy thing?’ she queried.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Aping me to make me think I’m the one with the power?’
    He seemed to consider this. ‘You picking up your cup reminded me mine was there, that’s all. But thanks for the tip – I’ll bear it in mind.’
    She stared at him, trying to gauge the level of game being played.
    ‘It’s good coffee, by the way,’ he added, this time slurping from his cup. Clarke couldn’t help but smile. She went back to watching pedestrians while she considered her options.
    ‘Thirty years is a long time,’ she said eventually.
    ‘It is.’
    ‘Something’s supposed to have happened at Summerhall?’
    ‘Possibly.’
    ‘And it involved John?’
    ‘Tangentially – I don’t think he’d been there that long. He was pretty junior . . .’
    ‘You know he’s not going to give up any of the men he worked with?’
    ‘Unless I can persuade him