Read Online A Question of Blood (2003) by Ian Rankin - Free Book Online Page B

least we don’t have that anymore . . .” And with another forced smile, Kate left the kitchen. Rebus looked at Siobhan, a slight raising of the eyebrows the only indication that he’d heard anything of interest in the past ten minutes. He followed Siobhan into the living room. It was dark outside now, and he switched on one of the lamps.
    “Think I should close the curtains?” Siobhan asked.
    “Reckon anyone would open them again come morning?”
    “Maybe not.”
    “Then leave them open.” Rebus switched on another lamp. “This place needs all the light it can get.” He sifted through some of the photos. Blurred faces, backdrops he recognized. Siobhan was studying the family portraits lining the room.
    “The mother’s been erased from history,” she commented.
    “Something else,” Rebus said casually. She looked at him.
    “What?”
    He waved an arm towards the shelf units. “It may be my imagination, but seems like there are more photos of Derek than there are of Kate.”
    Siobhan saw what he meant. “What do we make of that?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Maybe some of the photos of Kate had her mother in them, too.”
    “Then again, they sometimes say the youngest child becomes the parents’ favorite.”
    “You’re speaking from experience?”
    “I’ve got a younger brother, if that’s what you mean.”
    Siobhan thought about this. “Do you think you should tell him?”
    “Who?”
    “Your brother.”
    “Tell him he was always the apple of our dad’s eye?”
    “No, tell him what’s happened here.”
    “That would entail locating his whereabouts.”
    “You don’t even know where your own brother is?”
    Rebus shrugged. “That’s the way it is, Siobhan.”
    They heard footsteps on the stairs. Kate came back into the room.
    “He’s asleep,” she said. “He’s been sleeping a lot.”
    “I’m sure it’s the best thing,” Siobhan said, almost wincing as the cliché trickled out.
    “Kate,” Rebus interrupted, “we’re going to leave you alone now. But I’ve got one last question, if that’s all right with you.”
    “I won’t know till I’ve heard it.”
    “It’s just this: I’m wondering if you can tell us exactly when and where Derek’s car crash took place?”
 
    D Division headquarters was a venerable old building in the middle of Leith. The drive from South Queensferry hadn’t taken too long—the evening traffic had been heading out of the city rather than in. The CID offices were quiet. Rebus reckoned everyone had been pulled to the school shooting. He found a member of the admin staff and asked her where the files might be kept. Siobhan was already stabbing at a keyboard, in case she could find anything that way. In the end, the file was tracked down to one of the storage closets, moldering on a shelf alongside hundreds of others. Rebus thanked the admin clerk.
    “Happy to help,” she said. “This place has been a real graveyard today.”
    “Just as well the villains don’t know that,” Rebus said with a wink.
    She snorted. “It’s bad enough at the best of times.” By which she meant understaffing.
    “I owe you a drink,” Rebus told her as she turned to go. Siobhan watched her wave a hand, not looking back.
    “You didn’t even get her name,” she said.
    “I won’t be buying her a drink either.” Rebus placed the file on a desk and sat down, making room so that Siobhan could slide a chair across to join him.
    “Still seeing Jean?” she asked as he opened the file. Then she screwed up her face. Sitting on top of the sheets of paper was a glossy color photograph of the accident scene. The dead teenager had been wrenched from the driving seat, so that the upper half of his body was sprawled across the car hood. There were more photos underneath: autopsy shots. Rebus slid them beneath the file and started to read.
    Two friends: Derek Renshaw, sixteen, and Stuart Cotter, seventeen. They’d decided to borrow Stuart’s dad’s car, a nippy Audi TT.