'What the hell do we do with this?' he asked.

'You tell me.'

'Tolland was there... you arranged the burial... Howard Champ was the culprit. Where does David Minton fit in?'

'I'm not sure.'

'If it's some kind of payback... they've waited thirty years. I don't get it.'

'Me neither.'

'And Jeffries and Ritterthey're the obvious targets, yet nothing's happened to them.'

'Agreed.'

The slight chuckle Rebus gave had no humour in it whatsoever. 'I'm completely and utterly stumped for something to say.'

'Maybe I shouldn't have told you. Could be I'm reading too much into it, seeing ghosts that aren't there...'

'Maybe.'

'But you don't think so?'

'The boy didn't have close family?'

'No.'

'There'll still be records somewhere, though.'

'Will there?'

'Damned if I know.' Rebus ran his hand through his hair. 'There must be people around who worked at Acorn House, or were kept there.'

'But as of right now, you've only got my word for itand you're the only one I'm telling.' The two men's eyes met. 'I'm serious. It's not a can of worms your lot would be opening, it's a room full of snakes. Everything got kept quiet, Acorn House was shut down without a murmur. I can't think of anyone who'd thank you for shining a torch on any of it.'

'You won't talk to the police?'

'An official investigation isn't going to get anywhere.'

Rebus sipped his whisky while he gathered his thoughts. 'What did you get out of it at the time?'

'How do you mean?'

'Howard Champdid he pay you off?'

'He offered.'

'You declined?'

'He knew he owed methat was more important.'

Rebus nodded slowly. 'A gangster scaling the ladderhandy to have a local MP in your pocket. You never spoke about it to anyone?'

'No.'

'How about Jeffries and Ritter?'

'They knew better than to go blabbing.'

'Well someone kneweither all along, or they found out about it later. Tolland was the first to diemaybe his conscience got the better of him.'

'Who would he tell?'

Rebus shrugged. 'But with Howard Champ long deceased, the wanted list was pretty small: Tolland himself, then Minton, then you.' Rebus paused. 'Who do you think would be next?'

'Apart from Jeffries and Ritter?' Cafferty shrugged. 'Other staff, maybe, or kids who knew but kept quiet.'

'Some easier to trace than others. Minton had been a public figure... you too, for that matter... And Tolland was all over the papers when he won the lottery.'

'The money he had, why didn't they blackmail him rather than do him in?'

'Because money doesn't interest them, I suppose.' Rebus turned back towards the window and the view.

'Can you do anything with this?' Cafferty asked.

'On my own? I really don't know.'

'Will you try?'

'It's not like I've got anything else on my plate, is it?' When Rebus turned his head towards his guest, Cafferty rewarded him with a smile that mixed relief and gratitude.

'Remember,' he said after a moment, the smile fading. 'There may well be people who don't want Acorn House dusted off.'

Rebus nodded solemnly, raising the glass to his lips again.

Fox paced the corridor, his phone pressed to his ear. It was the third time he had tried Alec Bell, and this time the man decided to answer.

'What's the panic?' Bell said.

'Took your time getting back to me.'

'Big powwow with Ricky. What can I do for you, Fox?'

'You told me Jackie Dyson is your mole.'

'Did I?'

'You know you did. I need to know if you were spinning me a line.'

'Why?'

'Because I ran into him at Fettes.'

'Running into him's one thing...'

'He knows I'm a cop now. None of your lot seemed to have told him.'

'You talked to him?'

'So he also knows I know about the mole.' Fox could hear Bell sucking air through his teeth. 'Meaning that if you lied to me...'

'I didn't.'

'Sure about that?'

'He's not going to be too happy that anyone outside the team knows about him. Don't suppose it matters, though.'

'Why's that?'

'The meeting we just hadJoe Stark clocked the boss. Means we're on borrowed time.'

'You'll be replaced with another team?'

'Who knows.'

'And Dyson?'

'Will be considering his options. He was embedded in the gang long before Operation Junior got green-lit.'

'It really is him, isn't it?' Fox pressed. 'The mole, I mean?'

'I'm guessing the mask didn't slip...'

'Firmly glued on. He didn't even say sorry for knocking me out. Reckon he'd have used that blade if I hadn't intervened?'

'You said earlier you were worried he's gone nativeI can assure you he hasn't. Ricky spoke to him a day or so back.'

Fox digested this. 'So that's that, then? Back to Gartcosh?'

'I wish I could say it's been fun.'

'Or even productive. You think the gang will keep looking?'

'Joe's got a bit of juggling to do. Dennis's goons were just thatwho knows how they'll fit in with the old man. Joe had a meeting with Darryl Christie earlier. All seemed amicable enough. No idea what they were talking about, though. Lip-reader's what we need, next time round. Not that there'll be a next time. One thing that'll probably gladden your heartBeth's been sent packing. She blew up at Ricky and that's that. Feel free to gloat.'

'Not my style.'

Alec Bell gave a loud sigh. 'Beth had it tough in her early years. Joining the police was the making of her. Never any love in her familymum and dad drinking and fighting. She had to look after herself, her brother and her gran. That's the calibre of person you just shat onhope the thought keeps you warm at night.'

'What about Beth, Alec? Does she keep you warm at night?'

The phone went dead, just as Siobhan Clarke appeared at the top of the stairs. Fox squeezed it tight in his hand and caught up with her.

'How did the interviews go?' he asked.

'Compston wouldn't let us record him. I've got notes to write up.'

'And the others?'

'We settled for the boss man and Hastie herself.'

'Did she give you anything?'

Clarke nodded. 'Whether I believe it or not is another matter. Do you want to listen?'

Fox nodded. 'And if there's anything else I can be doing...'

'I'll have a think.' Clarke sounded distracted. She was looking at her own phone's screen. 'Thought John wanted in on this, but he's gone silent all of a sudden.'

'Should we be worried about that?'

'Usually means trouble for somebody.' She gave a fatigued smile. 'Is the day nearly over? I could use a drink.'

'I heard the Gimlet went up in smoke.'

'Fire investigators say arson.'

'Might explain why Christie and Stark met up.'

'You heard about that?' She nodded. 'I suppose it might.'

'Both of them very well-behaved, toowhat does that tell us?'

'If I'm being honest, Malcolm, it tells me the square root of zero. How about you?'

'I forget the Starks aren't really your bailiwick.'

She smiled at the word. 'Only the son. And then only if he really does tie in to Lord Minton.'

'Which seems less likely now, correct? So a separate inquiry's going to have to be launched?'

'Probablynow that Joe Stark's been apprised that the note was probably a red herring.'

'That's why he stormed in here? How did he find out?'

'You've just told me he had a meeting earlier with Darryl Christie...'

'Christie's got someone at Fettes?'