Read Online Black And Blue by Ian Rankin - Free Book Online Page B

Bible John case was probably no help at all. It had sent him back in time, spending less and less time in the present. Sometimes it took all his strength to pull him back to the here and now.
    Rebus had telephone calls to make. First: Pete Hewitt at Howdenhall.
    ‘Morning, Inspector, and isn’t she a beauty?’
    Voice dripping irony. Rebus looked out at milky sunshine. ‘Rough night, Pete?’
    ‘Rough? You could shave a yak with it. I take it you got my message?’ Rebus had pen and paper ready. ‘I got a couple of decent prints off the whisky bottle: thumb and forefinger. Tried lifting from the polythene bag and the tape binding him to the chair, but only a few partials, nothing to build a case on.’
    ‘Come on, Pete, get to the ID.’
    ‘Well, all that money you complain we spend on computers … I got a match within quarter of an hour. The name is Anthony Ellis Kane. He has a police record for attempted murder, assault, reset. Ring any bells?’
    ‘Not a one.’
    ‘Well, he used to operate out of Glasgow. No convictions these past seven years.’
    ‘I’ll look him up when I get to the station. Thanks, Pete.’
    Next call: the personnel office at T-Bird Oil. A long-distance call; he’d wait and make it from Fort Apache. A glance out of the window: no sign of the Redgauntlet crew. Rebus put his jacket on and made for the door.
    He stopped in at the boss’s office. MacAskill was guzzling Irn-Bru.
    ‘We have a fingerprint ID, Anthony Ellis Kane, previous convictions for violence.’
    MacAskill tossed the empty can into his waste-basket. Hisdesk was stacked with old paperwork – drawer one of the filing cabinet. There was an empty packing case on the floor.
    ‘What about the decedent’s family, friends?’
    Rebus shook his head. ‘Deceased worked for T-Bird Oil. I’m going to call the personnel manager for details.’
    ‘Make that job one, John.’
    ‘Job one, sir.’
    But when he got to the Shed and sat at his desk, he thought about phoning Gill Templer first, decided against it. Bain was at his desk; Rebus didn’t want an audience.
    ‘Dod,’ he said, ‘run a check on Anthony Ellis Kane. Howdenhall found his prints on the carry-out.’ Bain nodded and started typing. Rebus phoned Aberdeen, gave his name and asked to be put through to Stuart Minchell.
    ‘Good morning, Inspector.’
    ‘Thanks for leaving a message, Mr Minchell. Do you have Allan Mitchison’s employment details?’
    ‘Right in front of me. What do you want to know?’
    ‘A next of kin.’
    Minchell shuffled paper. ‘There doesn’t appear to be one. Let me check his CV.’ A long pause, Rebus happy not to be making the call from home. ‘Inspector, it seems Allan Mitchison was an orphan. I have details of his education, and there’s a children’s home mentioned.’
    ‘No family?’
    ‘No mention of a family.’
    Rebus had written Mitchison’s name on a sheet of paper. He underlined it now, the rest of the page a blank. ‘What was Mr Mitchison’s position within the company?’
    ‘He was … let’s see, he worked for Platform Maintenance, specifically as a painter. We have a base in Shetland, maybe he worked there.’ More paper shuffling. ‘No, Mr Mitchison worked on the platforms themselves.’
    ‘Painting them?’
    ‘And general maintenance. Steel corrodes, Inspector.You’ve no idea how fast the North Sea can strip paint from steel.’
    ‘Which rig did he work on?’
    ‘Not a rig, a production platform. I’d have to check that.’
    ‘Could you do that, please? And could you fax me through his personnel file?’
    ‘You say he’s dead?’
    ‘Last time I looked.’
    ‘Then there should be no problem. Give me your number there.’
    Rebus did so, and terminated the call. Bain was waving him over. Rebus crossed the room and stood by Bain’s side, the better to see the computer screen.
    ‘This guy’s pure mental,’ Bain said. His phone rang. Bain picked up, started a conversation. Rebus read down the screen.