'How long has he lived here?'

'Six or seven years. He was dating a local lass, but that didn't come to anything. We thought he would move on, but he's still here.'

'Does he have a job?'

'I think he's on the dole. Used to do some building work, when it was offered.'

Rebus nodded his gratitude. 'Anything else?' he asked.

'You know he has a temper?'

'Yes.'

'But that's mostly after closing time. He should be fine just now.'

'And I'll probably find him at home?'

'If you don't, it won't take long to check out the nearby watering holes.'

Rebus thanked the man, bought an unneeded packet of cigarettes and walked back up the slope to his car.

'Next road on the left,' he recited as he passed the Tesco. He pulled up outside a terraced house and pushed open the knee-high metal gate. The garden was neither manicured nor a wasteland. The curtains at the downstairs window were open, those upstairs closed. He looked in vain for a doorbell, then banged with his fist instead. No answer, so he thumped again. Coughing from inside. He got the feeling someone was descending from the upper floor. The door opened an inch, the eyes squinting as they adjusted to the weak daylight.

'Mr Ratner?' Rebus asked. 'David Ratner?'

'Who's asking?'

Rebus had already decided how to play it. 'An old pal of yours,' he said, shoving at the door with his shoulder. Ratner staggered backwards against the bottom two steps of the staircase. By the time he'd recovered, Rebus was inside and the door was closed.

'Hell's going on?' the man yelped, voice filled with grievance.

Rebus examined the hallway. Bare linoleum, walls that had last seen a coat of paint in the eighties, a threadbare stair carpet. The place held an aroma of single unwashed male.

'Living room,' he announced, making it sound like an order.

Cafferty's description of Dave Ritter had been sketchy, but it did fit the man in front of Rebus, the one who was wondering how best to get rid of this unwelcome guest so a courtship with cheap booze could be resumed. The good news was, Ratner/Ritter had no heft to him. He was almost as shrunken as his friend Paul Jeffries. Rebus began to wonder if the enormity of just one crime had ground both men down.

Without saying anything, the man led the way into a room containing two charity-shop armchairs and a newish-looking TV. There were bottles and cans too, with empty fast-food containers providing extra ornamentation.

'Does your cleaner come tomorrow?' Rebus asked.

'Funny.' The man was testing a few of the cans, without finding a drop to drink in any.

'Do I call you Ratner or Ritter?'

The freeze was momentary, but enough to convince Rebus.

'Who sent you?'

'Big Ger.' Rebus was standing in front of the door to the hall, a door he had pushed closed. If the man in front of him wanted an exit, he was going to have to use the window.

'A name from the past. And I prefer Ratner.' He slumped into one of the armchairs.

'Here's another name from the past.' Rebus paused for effect. 'Acorn House.'

Ratner seemed to slump further, shoulders hunched. He cursed under his breath.

'Nothing to say?' Rebus prompted. 'Well that's too bad, because you're the one who's going to have to spit it out...'

Ratner looked at him. 'You've seen Paul?' he guessed.

'Not got much repartee these days, has he?'

'Poor bugger. At least I've still got a few brain cells. What did Cafferty tell you?'

'That you both worked for him back in the daydisposing of problems. A patch of woodland in Fife was mentioned.'

'Ancient history.'

'It was until recently. Things have changed.'

'Oh?'

Rebus decided to take the other chair. He pulled his cigarettes out and gestured with them. Ratner took one and allowed Rebus to light it.

'Ta,' he said.

Rebus lit one for himself and blew the smoke ceilingwards.

'Are you here to terminate me?' Ratner asked.

'I hate to break it to you, Dave, but you're not that important.'

'I never told another living soul, you know. So if someone's been blabbing, you need to look elsewhere.'

'Do you remember Michael Tolland?'

Ratner mouthed the name silently a couple of times. 'Was he the one who opened the door to us?'

Rebus nodded slowly. 'Who else was inside?'

'The MP guy...'

'Howard Champ?'

It was Ratner's turn to nod. 'And his pal Mintona bloody QC. Spent his days putting folk like me and Paul away, and then headed out of an evening to bugger young boys at Acorn House. Afterwards, I cursed if I ever had to as much as drive past the place. There was talk of an inquiry at one point, but I'm guessing Minton put the lid on that and screwed it down tight.'

'Wasn't the only job you did for Big Ger, thoughthe only disposal, I mean?'

'There were a few, but never kids. Just that one time. I doubt a day goes by when I don't think of it. Those men climbing back into their suits, sorting their cufflinks, shaking and pale-faced, not from shame, but because they might be found out.' He shook his head slowly.

'Cafferty wasn't there?'

'God, no.'

'But it meant they owed him.'

Ratner nodded. 'I'm sure he pulled a few favours. Except from-' He broke off, his eyes fixing on Rebus. 'Don't suppose it matters now, does it?'

'Who else was there?'

'He was just arriving as we left. Tried mumbling some excuse, but Paul and I knew what he'd come forsame thing as the rest of them.'

'Was it the Chief Constable?'

'Broadfoot, you mean? Oh, his name was mentionedthey'd thought of phoning him to get rid of the body, until Champ mentioned Big Ger.'

'But he wasn't actually there?'

'Guy who turned up was Todd Dalrymple.'

'From Milligan's Casino?'

'That's the one. Happily married, but that didn't mean much to some of themChief Constable had a wife too, didn't he?'

'Did Cafferty know?'

'About Dalrymple?' Ratner shook his head again. 'He peeled off a roll of fifties and split it between us.'

'Paul Jeffries ended up driving for him.'

'He did, yes.'

'And Dalrymple still visits him.'

Ratner's face twisted into a sour smile. 'To make sure Paul hasn't got mouthy as well as senile.'

Rebus nodded his understanding. Silence fell over the room. Ratner rose slowly to his feet, but only to switch on the ceiling light.

'You're sure you're not here to do me in?' he asked as he sat down again. 'Because to be honest, I'm not sure I wouldn't welcome itmaybe you can tell. I was a vicious little sod back then, I admit. People can change, though...'

'Felt good to get it off your chest after all these years?' Rebus nodded again. 'Aye, I can see that, but to answer your questionI'm not going to kill you, but someone else might.'

'Oh?'

'Somebody fired a shot at Big Ger. Somebody also killed Minton and Tolland.'

'Bit of a coincidence.' Having finished the cigarette, Ratner dropped its remains into one of the empty cans. A few moments later, Rebus did the same with his.

'Acorn House seems to be the connection, wouldn't you say? Which is why we're thinking about the victimhis name was Bryan Holroyd, by the way.'

'Ah, the victim...' Ratner went silent again. He rose slowly to his feet and stood by the window, his hands sliding into his trouser pockets. Eventually he turned his head towards Rebus. 'Has Cafferty worked it out then?'

'Worked what out?'

'We told him it was job done. What else were we going to do? We knew he'd go mental, probably bury the pair of us with his bare hands.'

Rebus sat forward a little. 'What are you saying?'

'The kid wasn't dead. Everybody acted like he was and told us he was, and we took that at face value. Picked him up and he was all floppy, like a corpse would be. Stuffed him in the car and drove to Fife, got out and opened the boot...'

'And?'

'And he flew past me like a banshee! I nearly died on the spot. He was hardly dressed at all, but he was off and running.'

'You went after him?'

'We scoured that bloody forest until dawn, frozen to the marrow.'

'He got away?' Rebus's voice was a fraction above a whisper.

'No way he could have survived out there, all but naked and no shelter for miles. We kept an eye on the news, but there was never a report of a body being found. We reckoned he had lain down, covered himself with leaves and died like that, decomposing and gone for ever.'

'But supposing he didn'the would have names, wouldn't he? Maybe not yours, but Minton and Tolland. He was probably lying there while they talked about fetching Cafferty. Those three names.'

'Is Champ dead too?' Ratner asked.

Rebus nodded. 'Natural causes, a few years back.'

'Doesn't make sense thenwouldn't the main grudge be against him? And why take so long to do something about it?'

'I don't know.' But Rebus knew the man had a point. 'Nor do I know what Holroyd looked like.'

'Skinny, pale, dark hair, young-looking face... Hardly likely to help you after all this time.' Ratner paused. 'You think it's really him?'

'It might be.'

'And you'll be telling Cafferty?'

'I have to.'

'You know he'll kill me?'

'Not if I don't tell him where to find you.'

Ratner was staring at him. 'You'd do that?'

'Maybe. But I need a statement from youI need everything you've just told me.'