'In which case his hotel might be next.'

'We always knew it would get messy. Maxtone reckons it's high time we ordered Stark and his thugs back to Glasgow.'

'He's got a point. Say hello to Siobhan for meand bear in mind what I said.' Rebus was holding out a hand towards Fox. The two men shook. Having seen him out, Rebus went into the kitchen. His phone was charging on the worktop. He'd set it to silent. Two missed calls, both from Cafferty. He tapped callback and Cafferty answered almost immediately.

'Is this about the Gimlet?' Rebus asked.

'The Gimlet?'

'It got torched last night.'

'Nothing to do with that.'

'What then?'

'I need a favour. Can you meet me? Twenty minutes?'

'Where?'

'The G and V hotel.'

'Used to be the Missoni? Twenty minutes it is. Want to give me a clue what this is about?'

But Cafferty had already rung off.

As Rebus walked into the hotel, Cafferty waved to catch his attention. He was seated in the bar area, nursing a tall glass of tomato juice.

'This where you're holing up?' Rebus asked, sliding on to the banquette. Cafferty just tapped the side of his nose. 'Credit me with at least half a brain,' Rebus went on. 'The very fact that we're meeting here rules it out as your cave.'

'You know I'm not in the house, though?'

'Happened to be passing. Tried phoning you a couple of times too. Have you been on to Joe Stark to offer condolences?'

'He'd tell me where to stuff them.'

'What about Darryl Christiespoken to him at all?'

Cafferty made show of checking his surroundings. 'Am I in an interview room here?'

'Whoever set light to the Gimlet had Darryl in mind.'

'Unless he did it himself for the insuranceyou know he wants to sell the site?'

'I'd heard a whisper. I dare say you have an alibi for last night, just in case?'

'Why would I need one?'

'Because if Darryl didn't do it, he's obviously going to read it as a message from Joe Stark, and a dogfight between the two of them would make your year.'

'And I torched his place to ensure that came about?' Cafferty shook his head. 'Sorry to disappoint you.' He tipped the glass to his mouth.

'Any vodka in that?' Rebus asked.

'Enough to take the edge off.'

'It's early in the day, even for you.' A waiter was hovering, but Rebus waved him away. He noticed not just how tired Cafferty lookedthere was something else there. The word 'haunted' sprang to mind. 'So what's this favour you need from me?' he asked, his tone a little softer.

'I don't want to get you into trouble,' Cafferty said. 'Not this sort of trouble. But I need to find these men.' He slid a paper drinks coaster towards Rebus. Two names written there in blue ink.

Paul Jeffries.

Dave Ritter.

Neither, at first glance, meant anything to Rebus. 'Okay,' he said, 'give me a clue.'

'They did a bit of work for me back in the eighties.'

'And they were last heard of when?'

'I bumped into Jeffries maybe fifteen years ago at a casino here in town. Just a couple of words in passing. Asked him what he was up to and he said something about driving. I had a taxi firm at the time so I said as much.' Cafferty paused. 'That was the extent of our chat.'

'Did he seem interested in the taxis?' Cafferty shook his head. 'Another kind of driving, thenlorries, deliveries...?'

'He didn't say.'

'Was he a regular at this casino?'

'He might have beenI wasn't.' Cafferty gestured towards the bar for another drink.

'And which casino was it?'

'Milligan's.'

'In Leith? Is that still there?'

'It's one of those super-pubs these days. Three floors of cheap booze.'

'Milligan's was run by Todd Dalrymple, wasn't it?'

'You've a good memory.'

'Wonder if he's still around.' Rebus scratched at the underside of his jaw. 'Right,' he said, 'description of Mr Jeffries...'

'Five-ten, maybe, short fair hair going grey at the temples, a gold tooth right at the front of his mouth.'

'Would he have a criminal record?'

'It's possible.'

'But nothing from when you knew him?'

'No.'

'Age?'

'By now he'd be in his mid fifties.'

'Last known address?'

'Thirty years ago he was with a bidie-in somewhere in Granton.'

'Name of bidie-in?'

'I've honestly been trying to remember.'

Rebus picked up the coaster and studied it. 'Then let's move on to Dave Ritter.'

'The two of them were old pals. I think they were maybe at school together.'

'Where?'

'Somewhere in Fife.' Cafferty paused. 'They knew Fife pretty well.'

'Description.'

'Shorter than Paul. Maybe five-six or seven. Bit of a belly on him. Never far from a bag of chips. Longish straight hair, brown. Looked like a bad wig. He'd be the same sort of age, meaning mid fifties now. Don't remember anything about his love life. Didn't live too far from Paul either.'

Rebus waited, but Cafferty could offer only a shrug.

'That's all you've got?' he said as the fresh drink arrived and with it an unblemished coaster.

'Haven't seen Dave in nearly thirty years and didn't get round to asking Paul about him. To be honest, I probably only remembered him afterwardshe was the quiet one. It was Paul who did the talking.'

'How long did they work for you?'

'Three, four years.'

'In what capacity? Foot soldiers?'

'It's as good a phrase as any,' Cafferty conceded. 'I just thoughtpolice computers, public registrar... maybe you could track them down.'

'And why would I bother doing that?'

'Because they might explain what's going on here.' Cafferty saw that Rebus didn't quite get it. 'The notesme and Minton. Plus that care worker in Linlithgow, the one Siobhan Clarke was talking about.'

'You reckon he's part of it? And Dennis Stark too?'

'Stark?' Cafferty seemed genuinely confused.

'Dennis got a note. Add that to the nine-mil bullet hole...'

But Cafferty was shaking his head again. 'Nothing to do with him,' he muttered as if to himself. 'Joe maybe? No, not Joe either.' He regained focus, his eyes meeting Rebus's. 'That's got to be a mistake,' he said.

Rebus nodded. 'My thinking exactly. So maybe tell me your theory and let me be the judge.'

Cafferty ignored this. 'I had a quick look online but I didn't spot either Jeffries or Ritter. Phoned a couple of old lags, but they weren't any help.'

'What makes you think I can do better?'

'You're the straw I'm clutching at.' Cafferty managed a smile. 'That was my nickname for youStrawman. Do you remember?'

'I remember.'

'You were giving evidence against me that one time in Glasgow, and they got you mixed up with another witness called Stroman.'

Rebus nodded. 'I really need to know what you want with those two men.'

'And I've told you.'

'Not enough for me to be convinced. Is there an angle here, something to do with Joe Stark?'

'Forget him.' Cafferty screwed up his face.

'Not easy when he's on the rampage. How long till he comes hard up against Darryl Christie?'

'Joe needs to be covering his own arse rather than kicking anyone else's.' Cafferty savoured a mouthful of the Bloody Mary. 'With Dennis gone, there's bound to be some jockeying. Joe's surrounded himself with old-timers. They had reputations once, but they'd be no match for the lads on Dennis's payroll. Added to which, I can think of people in Aberdeen and elsewhere who might fancy a crack at Glasgow, now that a tin-opener's been taken to Joe's armour.'

'You've heard mutterings?'

'Didn't even need my ear trumpet.' He made eye contact with Rebus again and held it. 'You'll do this for me, John?' Pointing at the coaster Rebus was holding between thumb and forefinger.

'What do you think?'

'I think you'll have to, because otherwise those names will go on bugging you all the way to the grave.'

Rebus got to his feet. 'What did you mean, back at the start of our little chat? Something about not wanting to get me into trouble?'

'It's honestly best you don't know. Trust mejust this once. Will you do that?'

Rebus had seen much in his old foe's eyes down the yearsguile, venom, darkness. But now he saw something else: uncertainty, tinged by fear. The glass was being raised again, its contents a prayed-for analgesic.

'You'll answer the phone when I call?' Rebus checked.

Cafferty nodded as he drained his drink.