outstretched. ‘The
city – my city.’
‘You sure you’ve not watched Scarface one too many
times?’ Rebus asked.
Christie sat down again, but the agitation he had been hiding
was now evident in his posture. He pumped one of his knees as
he spoke. ‘It’s the old story – my enemy’s enemy is my friend.
Cafferty’s not got much more than a couple of years left in him.
Last thing he wants is to be on his deathbed knowing I’m still around. Dennis Stark is the perfect choice. Guy’s crazy, for a
start. Tell him to take me down and he’ll make sure it’s messy.
And who else is there? Cafferty doesn’t know the new regimes
in Aberdeen and Dundee. But he knows Joe Stark. They’re like
two sides of the same piece of bog paper.’
‘I think you might be misreading the situation,’ Fox said.
‘Besides,’ Rebus broke in, ‘if Cafferty’s getting all chummy
with the Starks, that gives you all the more reason to warn him off with a bullet.’
‘I’ve found, contrary to appearances, that a bullet is a pretty
blunt instrument,’ Christie said. ‘Credit me with a bit more
subtlety.’ He was regaining his composure. ‘And if shooters are
involved, I’d put the Starks in the frame every single time.
Could be they want to make sure Cafferty’s compliant – so he
knows he can’t muck about with them. World they live in,
that’s the way they do business.’
‘Have you met with them?’ Fox asked. ‘Spoken to them?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Cafferty thinks Dennis is maybe being toured around the
country so he can get to know the various people he needs to
know – people just like you.’
‘There’s nothing in my diary, if that’s what you’re asking.’
‘Word to the wise, Darryl,’ Rebus said. ‘You know yourself
they’re old school. You’ve just said as much. Subtlety isn’t
going to play well with them.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘Fox and a couple of his colleagues could maybe talk to
them, let them know they’re not welcome.’
‘DI Fox doesn’t look too sure about that.’
‘No . . . it’s just . . . maybe I . . .’
‘Well anyway,’ Christie said, slapping both his knees before
rising to his feet again. ‘Thanks for stopping by. We both know
it was a waste of time – Cafferty playing his usual games – but
all the same . . .’
‘Just wish I could have put a bigger dent in your profits.’
Rebus gestured towards his empty whisky glass. ‘And
remember what I said about the Starks. Dennis might be the
mad dog, but it’s Joe who controls the leash.’
Christie gave a slow nod and preceded them into the
hallway, bounding up the staircase two steps at a time.
‘A young man in a hurry,’ Fox commented as they left the
building.
‘Taking its toll, though,’ Rebus said thoughtfully. ‘I don’t
like my gangsters jumpy.’ He lit a cigarette. Fox was preparing
to walk to the car, but Rebus stood his ground. ‘What did you
mean in there? When you said he was misreading the
situation?’
‘Nothing.’
‘There’s something you know, something you’re not telling.
How did you find out the Starks were in town? And that they’d
stopped off in Aberdeen and Dundee? I doubt you’ve any
grasses worth the name.’
‘It was mentioned at St Leonard’s.’
‘Why, though? The Starks have probably been over here a
dozen times this past year without a red flag being raised. And
Christie was right about the look on your face when I said CID
could go warn the Starks off. Why isn’t that a good idea,
Malcolm?’
‘I’m not allowed to tell you.’
‘Why not?’
‘That’s just the way it is.’
‘We’re not in a Bruce Hornsby song here – you want my
help but you won’t tell me anything? Well thanks a bunch, pal,
but don’t go thinking I’ll ever be giving you my last Rolo
again.’
Having said which, Rebus flicked his half-smoked cigarette
at Fox’s feet and stomped off towards the car.
Cafferty sat at
city – my city.’
‘You sure you’ve not watched Scarface one too many
times?’ Rebus asked.
Christie sat down again, but the agitation he had been hiding
was now evident in his posture. He pumped one of his knees as
he spoke. ‘It’s the old story – my enemy’s enemy is my friend.
Cafferty’s not got much more than a couple of years left in him.
Last thing he wants is to be on his deathbed knowing I’m still around. Dennis Stark is the perfect choice. Guy’s crazy, for a
start. Tell him to take me down and he’ll make sure it’s messy.
And who else is there? Cafferty doesn’t know the new regimes
in Aberdeen and Dundee. But he knows Joe Stark. They’re like
two sides of the same piece of bog paper.’
‘I think you might be misreading the situation,’ Fox said.
‘Besides,’ Rebus broke in, ‘if Cafferty’s getting all chummy
with the Starks, that gives you all the more reason to warn him off with a bullet.’
‘I’ve found, contrary to appearances, that a bullet is a pretty
blunt instrument,’ Christie said. ‘Credit me with a bit more
subtlety.’ He was regaining his composure. ‘And if shooters are
involved, I’d put the Starks in the frame every single time.
Could be they want to make sure Cafferty’s compliant – so he
knows he can’t muck about with them. World they live in,
that’s the way they do business.’
‘Have you met with them?’ Fox asked. ‘Spoken to them?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Cafferty thinks Dennis is maybe being toured around the
country so he can get to know the various people he needs to
know – people just like you.’
‘There’s nothing in my diary, if that’s what you’re asking.’
‘Word to the wise, Darryl,’ Rebus said. ‘You know yourself
they’re old school. You’ve just said as much. Subtlety isn’t
going to play well with them.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘Fox and a couple of his colleagues could maybe talk to
them, let them know they’re not welcome.’
‘DI Fox doesn’t look too sure about that.’
‘No . . . it’s just . . . maybe I . . .’
‘Well anyway,’ Christie said, slapping both his knees before
rising to his feet again. ‘Thanks for stopping by. We both know
it was a waste of time – Cafferty playing his usual games – but
all the same . . .’
‘Just wish I could have put a bigger dent in your profits.’
Rebus gestured towards his empty whisky glass. ‘And
remember what I said about the Starks. Dennis might be the
mad dog, but it’s Joe who controls the leash.’
Christie gave a slow nod and preceded them into the
hallway, bounding up the staircase two steps at a time.
‘A young man in a hurry,’ Fox commented as they left the
building.
‘Taking its toll, though,’ Rebus said thoughtfully. ‘I don’t
like my gangsters jumpy.’ He lit a cigarette. Fox was preparing
to walk to the car, but Rebus stood his ground. ‘What did you
mean in there? When you said he was misreading the
situation?’
‘Nothing.’
‘There’s something you know, something you’re not telling.
How did you find out the Starks were in town? And that they’d
stopped off in Aberdeen and Dundee? I doubt you’ve any
grasses worth the name.’
‘It was mentioned at St Leonard’s.’
‘Why, though? The Starks have probably been over here a
dozen times this past year without a red flag being raised. And
Christie was right about the look on your face when I said CID
could go warn the Starks off. Why isn’t that a good idea,
Malcolm?’
‘I’m not allowed to tell you.’
‘Why not?’
‘That’s just the way it is.’
‘We’re not in a Bruce Hornsby song here – you want my
help but you won’t tell me anything? Well thanks a bunch, pal,
but don’t go thinking I’ll ever be giving you my last Rolo
again.’
Having said which, Rebus flicked his half-smoked cigarette
at Fox’s feet and stomped off towards the car.
Cafferty sat at
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