'Since school, I think.'

'Maybe talk to him again. If Tolland had received any kind of threat, he might have confided. At the very least, he'd probably have appeared anxious or out of sorts.'

'Okay,' Grant said.

'In which case, I think we're done here.' Clarke shook Grant's hand. 'And thanks again for meeting us.'

'My pleasure,' Grant said.

As the Astra turned back down the driveway, Clarke asked Esson what she thought.

'Not really my typeprobably irons his underpants.'

'He did have a look of the tailor's dummy about him, didn't he? Reckon he really will talk to the friend again?'

'Yes, but only because it gives him an excuse to get back to us. When you turned away to open the fridge...'

'What?'

'His eyes were doing everything short of stripping the clothes off you.'

Clarke squirmed. 'I thought you were the one he liked.'

'I'd say the man's not had a woman for a while. Has he got your mobile number?'

'Yes.'

'Probably not the very next text, then, but the one after that.'

'What?'

'It won't be about worktrust me.'

Clarke made a face.

'If you're the betting type, I'll gladly take your money,' Esson teased.

'Not the next text but the one after? A text rather than an actual phone call?'

'Twenty quid says one or the other.'

'Twenty quid it is.' Clarke took her hand off the steering wheel long enough for the two women to shake on it.

10.

Rebus drove past Cafferty's house and saw the car in the driveway, just inside the open gates. Two men in the front, watching him as he watched them. He parked on a meter and walked back to the house. The men didn't move as he passed them, but he felt their eyes on him as he walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The living-room window had been replaced, but the brick-coloured putty had yet to be painted. Cafferty opened the door.

'I take it you told them I was coming?' Rebus nodded towards the car. 'Wise to get a bit of security.'

'Come in.' Cafferty led the way into the living room. The painting hiding the bullet hole had been removed, the hole filled in. The plaster looked fresh, but would need repainting.

'You sounded a bit frazzled on the phone,' Rebus said. 'Has something happened?'

Cafferty had settled on the edge of an armchair. Rebus sat down opposite him.

'You seen the paper?' The Scotsman was on the coffee table. Cafferty turned it round so it faced Rebus. There was a photo of David Minton, and a headline about the threat on his life.

'I've seen it.'

Cafferty eased something from his trouser pocket and placed it on the coffee table. It was the bullet prised from the wall, half wrapped in a piece of paper.

'What am I supposed to do with that? I'm not a cop, remember.'

'Look at the paper.'

Rebus narrowed his eyes, then reached forward and unfolded the note.

'Christ,' he said. 'Siobhan needs to see this.'

'Is she working the Minton case?' Cafferty watched as Rebus nodded, his eyes still on the note and its bald threat: I'M GOING TO KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID.

'Where did it come from?' Rebus asked.

'It was just lying inside the front door one morning.'

'Folded like this?'

'No. It was lying flat, message-side up, like someone had pushed it under the door rather than using the letter box. Meant I'd see it straight off.'

'You don't have any cameras?'

'CCTV, you mean? Any idea how useless that is?'

Rebus looked at the note again. 'How long ago?'

'Five days back.'

Handwritten capitals in what looked like black biro.

'So who sent it?'

'The same person who took a shot at me.'

'You know that for sure, or are you just guessing?'

'I'm putting two and two together.'

'Guy who killed Lord Minton didn't use a gun.'

'And yet we both got identical notes. You saying the shooter may not be the same person?'

'I'm not saying anything...' Rebus had been about to call Cafferty by his first name, but stopped himself. Big Ger? Morris? Gerald? He was Morris Gerald Cafferty. He was Big Ger. Nothing would have sounded quite right.

'John,' Cafferty said quietly. 'What the hell is this about?'

'Someone thinks you and David Minton wronged them in some way, and they're intent on making you pay.'

'I didn't know who Minton was until the news told me he was dead.'

'You never faced him across a courtroom? He never locked up any of your men?'

'No.'

'He's the law, you're a gangsteralready there's a connection.' Rebus realised he had taken out his cigarettes, the pack and a lighter clutched in the same hand.

'Go ahead if you really need to,' Cafferty said.

'I can wait.' Rebus put them away again. 'The bullet will go to ballistics. It's pretty beaten up, but if the gun's been used before, we might get a match.'

'Okay.'

'And Siobhan's going to need a proper interview with youon the record.'

'She has to promise the news won't leak. Last thing I need is reporters climbing over me.'

'You know what investigations are like.'

'I know they're about as watertight as a paper boat.'

'Meaning you'll have to take your chances. Siobhan will do what she can. But if she thinks it'll help the inquiry to go public...'

'Aye, fair enough.' Cafferty looked suddenly tired and old.

'Those two gorillas out front may not be enough. If I were you, I'd find somewhere with a bit more anonymity.'

'Maybe a guest house, eh? With the Starks along the corridor.'

'You know where they are?'

'I made a few callsknow thy enemy and all that.'

'You think they...?'

'How the hell do I know what I think? I think everything. Every bastard I ever did wrong toknow how long that list is?'

'A good few of them must be deadsome, only you'll know where the bodies are.'

'You're about as funny as a coronary.'

'I'd say you're well on your way to one of those. But getting riled isn't going to help. You've really no idea why someone would send you that note?'

'No.'

'And when the shot was fired, you didn't see whoever did it?'

'I saw... maybe the vaguest shape. A padded coat with a hood pulled down low over the head.'

'Male?'

'Judging by the build.'

'Age?'

'No idea. Maybe six foot tall. Just a glimpse as the window smashed. But I was ducking, too, and making for the door. I wanted to get out of that bloody room.'

'Twenty years ago, you'd have been out of the house and chasing him down the street.'

Cafferty managed a smile. 'With a cleaver in my hand.'

'If we were to get to the bottom of this, I'd want it to go to trial. Wouldn't look good if the suspect died while on remand.'

'Might be a deal-breaker.'

Rebus was holding up his phone. 'Before I call Siobhan, I need you to promise.'

'That I won't whack whoever tried to whack me? I'll promise that if you promise the media won't get wind of that note.'

'Why is it such a problem?'

'Use your loaf, John. With the Starks circling the city? And Darryl ChristieI'm assuming you talked to him?'

'He said the bullet was nothing to do with him. He seemed antsy, though.'

'Because of the Starks?'

'He seems to think they might try muscling inwith your blessing.'

Cafferty shook his head slowly. 'Whatever's going on, I can't afford to look weak, or like I'm suddenly cosying up to the law and order brigade.'

'You've not completely left the game, then?'