'Money and goods, yes.'

'So where are Stark and his men? Who are they talking to?'

'Right now, they're in a cafe in Leith. They're staying at a bed and breakfast nearby.'

'Bob Selway's watching them?'

'Until I relieve him in forty minutes,' Peter Hughes broke in.

'Reckon young Peter will blend in?' Compston asked Fox. 'We did wonder if these days he'd need one of those hipster beards, seeing how Leith is going up in the world.'

'Like he's old enough to grow a beard,' Alec Bell snorted.

Hughes made a single-digit gesture but looked as though he'd heard all the jokes before. Fox could sense the team softening a little. He wasn't being accepted, but they were ceasing to see him as an immediate threat.

'So that's where we are and why we're here,' Compston said with a shrug. 'And if you'll let us get on with it, we'll leave you to your Angry Birds.'

But Fox had a question. 'Stark and his men were in town last night? What did they get up to?'

'Dinner and a few drinks.'

'You had eyes on them all evening?'

'Pretty much. Why?'

Fox gave a twitch of the mouth. 'You'll have heard of Morris Gerald Cafferty, known as Big Ger?'

'Let's pretend I haven't.'

'Unbelievable,' Fox echoed. 'He was a major player on the east coast until recently. Similar age to your Joe Stark.'

'And?'

'Someone decided to take a potshot at him yesterday evening around eight o'clock.'

'Whereabouts?'

'At his home. Shooter was outside, Cafferty was inside, meaning it might have been a warning of some kind.'

Compston ran a hand across his jaw. 'Interesting.' He looked to Alec Bell, who offered a shrug.

'Seven till nine they were in the Abbotsford,' Bell recited. 'Drink at the bar, meal in the upstairs restaurant.'

'And where were we?'

'Peter was at the bar throughout.'

Hughes nodded his agreement. 'Apart from a quick break for a slash. But Beth was posted outside.'

'At the end of Rose Street, not more than twenty yards away,' Beth Hastie confirmed.

'Probably nothing to it then,' Compston said, not quite managing to sound as if he meant it. Then, to Fox: 'Would your man Cafferty have had dealings with the Starks?'

'I can try to find out.' Fox paused. 'Always supposing you're willing to trust me that far.'

'You know Cafferty to talk to?'

'Yes.' Fox managed not to blink.

'You can bring up the Starks without him getting wind of the surveillance?'

'Absolutely.'

Compston looked at the other members of his team. 'What do we think?'

'Risky,' Hastie offered.

'Agreed,' Alec Bell muttered.

'Fox is right about one thing, though,' Compston said, rising to his feet. 'Starks hit town and almost immediately someone fires a shot across the bows of the competition. Could well be a message.' His eyes were boring into Fox's. 'You reckon you're up to this?'

'Yes.'

'How will you do it?'

Fox shrugged. 'We just chat. I'm pretty good at reading people. If he suspects the Starks, he may let something slip.' He paused. 'I'm assuming they'd have access to a gun?'

Alec Bell snorted.

'I'll take that as a yes.' Then, to Compston: 'So do I talk to him or not?'

'You don't so much as hint at the surveillance.'

Fox nodded, then gestured towards the silent, cadaverous figure of Jake Emerson. 'Doesn't say much, does he?'

'Not in front of Complaints he doesn't,' Emerson sneered. 'Scumbuckets, the lot of you.'

'See?' Compston said with a smile. 'Jake keeps his counsel mostly, but when he does speak, it's always worth hearing.' He held out a hand for Fox to take. 'You're on probation, but for what it's worthwelcome to Operation Junior.'

'Junior?'

Compston gave a cold smile. 'If you're any kind of detective, you'll work it out,' he said, releasing his grip.

5.

Fox stood on the pavement outside the four-storey tenement on Arden Street and made the call, his eyes fixed on one of the second-floor windows.

'What do you want?' Rebus's voice asked.

'You at home?'

'Bowls game doesn't start for another hour.'

'Using your bus pass to get there?'

'You're sharper than you used to bethat's what a spell in CID does for you.'

'Can I come up?'

Rebus's face appeared at the window. 'I was just nipping out to the shop.'

'I'll walk with you. I thought we could talk about Cafferty.'

'Why would we want to do that?'

'I'll tell you when you come down.' Fox ended the call, holding the phone away from him for effect. Rebus remained at the window for a moment, then disappeared. Two minutes later, wrapped in a three-quarter-length black woollen coat, he emerged into the street, turning left and heading uphill, Fox at his heels.

'Before you ask, I've cut back,' he informed Fox as he lifted a cigarette from a near-empty packet.

'Have you tried vaping?'

'I hate that word.'

'Have you, though?'

'A couple of times. It's just not the same.' Rebus stopped briefly to get the cigarette lit. 'There's some news on Cafferty?'

'Not exactly.'

Rebus looked at Fox for the first time since coming out of the tenement. 'So I'm here under false pretences?' He started walking again.

'Do the names Joe and Dennis Stark mean anything to you?'

'Joe's an old-time Glasgow thug. His son didn't fall far from the tree.'

'Ever had dealings with either of them?'

'No.'

'Might Cafferty?'

'Almost certainly. You couldn't have one city tramping on the other's turf, not without war breaking out.'

'So there'd have been powwows between the two?'

'And their equivalents in Aberdeen, maybe Dundee...'

'That's interesting.'

'Why?'

'Because the Starks visited both those places recently.'

'What's your thinking, Malcolm?' Rebus glanced in Fox's direction. 'And by the way, are you and Siobhan sleeping together?'

'Would it bother you if we were?'

'I'll always look out for her. Anyone hurts her, it'll be me they answer to.'

'She's an adult, John. She might even be tougher than either you or me.'

'Maybe, but just so you know.'

'We're friendsthat's as far as it goes.'

They had turned the corner at the top of the street. There was a Sainsbury's across the road, and Rebus stopped by its door, taking a final couple of drags on his cigarette before stubbing it out.

'Didn't even smoke the whole thing,' he said. 'Be sure and tell her that. You never did answer my question.'

Fox followed him into the shop. 'What question?'

'Why do you want to know about the Starks?'

'They arrived in town a couple of days back. Just wondered if there might be a reason for them to target Cafferty.'

Rebus's eyes narrowed as he picked up a basket. He was silent while they perused the first aisle. Instant coffee, a small loaf, a litre of milk, packets of link sausages and bacon. As they passed by the wine and beer, Rebus gestured with his free hand.

'Tell her I didn't buy a single can or bottle.'

At the counter, however, he added a fresh pack of cigarettes to his purchases, along with a sausage roll from the hotplate.

'A man has to have some vices,' he said as they made for the exit. Outside, he slid the first inch from its paper bag and took a bite. Flecks of pastry broke off and peppered the lapels of his coat.

'What do you want me to do?' he asked.

Fox slipped his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders against the stiff breeze. 'Would Cafferty talk to me about the Starks?'

'You think Joe Stark is responsible for last night?'

'Maybe the son. Revenge for some grievance.'