‘I left a hundred messages,’ she complained.
‘So I see,’ her mother purred. ‘Everything’s all right, though? C told me you were in a bit of a state. We can probably lodge a complaint.’
‘It’s not the police I was pissed off with. You’ve done something to my phone. I want it undone today, or else it goes in the bin and I make sure you don’t get anywhere near its replacement.’
‘What did the police want, Gaby?’ Her mother’s tone had changed, hardening several degrees. ‘You were there, weren’t you? Francis Haggard’s flat, I mean?’
‘You tell me, you’re the one bugging my phone.’
‘What happened, did you meet someone?’
‘As it so happens. And I was headed to the flat upstairs, where I could have mindless sex with a man whose name I hadn’t even caught.’ There was silence on the line for a moment.
‘And that’s all you’ve got to tell me?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you didn’t know Francis Haggard?’
‘What makes you think I did?’
‘He worked at Tynecastle.’
‘So?’
‘So some of his colleagues frequent Elemental, no?’
‘I didn’t know Francis Haggard.’ Gaby paused. ‘You did, though, didn’t you, you or Dad? One of you had to give him the tour of the flat.’
‘I suppose so.’ Her mother gave an all-too-audible sigh. ‘Reckless behaviour isn’t good for business, Gabrielle.’
‘I’m not reckless, I’m young — there’s a difference.’
‘Why that tenement, though?’
‘It was closest, that’s all. And now, if you don’t mind, I have to get my set ready for tonight.’
‘Will you eat with us first?’
‘Only if you promise to debug my phone.’
‘I just want you to be safe, darling. We all need to be careful.’
Gaby felt her shoulders slump. ‘I know.’
‘So I’ll see you later?’
‘Just make sure it’s vegetarian. And remember — chicken doesn’t count.’
‘It so nearly does, though, doesn’t it?’
‘Nearly,’ Gaby conceded with a tired smile. Then she put her phone down next to her, reattached her headphones to her ears, and concentrated on her music.
James Pelham was rising to his feet, readying to leave, when Fox arrived at the restaurant. Fox had been biding his time, not really wanting to sit down with the man. When he’d called ACC Lyon to ask for the Complaints files, she’d told him his timing was perfect and there was someone she wanted him to meet. She was having a drink with him that very afternoon at Peacock Alley.
‘It’s in the Waldorf Astoria,’ she had informed him.
‘Edinburgh folk still call it the Caledonian,’ Fox had countered.
‘Well, I’m not from Edinburgh, Malcolm...’
The man she wanted him to meet was her old friend James Pelham, which was why Fox hadn’t exactly rushed to the scene. Even after arriving, he had lingered in the lobby, watching discreetly as Lyon checked her watch and phone and craned her neck in an effort to locate him. Finally Pelham had risen to his feet and given her hand a squeeze, which Fox took as his cue.
‘Malcolm, at long last,’ Jennifer Lyon said coolly. ‘Meet James.’
Fox shook the proffered hand and managed something approximating a nod of greeting. Pelham, however, didn’t even bother making eye contact. He had extracted two crisp twenty-pound notes from a wallet and, despite Lyon’s protest, placed them next to his glass.
‘Another time,’ he said. ‘I have a meeting I need to get to.’ And with that he was gone. Lyon fixed Fox with a scowl as he sat in what had been Pelham’s chair.
‘He would have been a useful man for you to meet,’ she said, tipping the dregs of her drink into her mouth. A waiter arrived, but Fox shook his head and he retreated, eyes on the banknotes.
‘Would he have been useful to me, or am I useful to him?’ Fox enquired. He noted that Lyon had a fresh glow about her, and she’d had her short, blonde-highlighted hair restyled, too. He realised there was a history here that went beyond old friends.
‘James is worried,’ Lyon said. ‘With some justification, he feels.’
‘Oh?’
‘You know his wife — soon to be ex-wife — was related to Francis Haggard?’
‘It hadn’t escaped my notice.’
‘Well, James being James, he’s worried the media might try to make him the story.’
‘What does he think we can do about that?’
‘Not give them any additional ammunition, to start with,’ she stated.
‘With respect, you need to step away from your old friend.’
‘That doesn’t sit well with me, Malcolm.’
‘Nonetheless, James Pelham happens to be close to Fraser Mackenzie — and I’m assuming you’re not unaware of SOCD’s interest in the latter? On top of which, Pelham’s company is being investigated for fraud and he’s going through a very public and messy divorce.’
Lyon took all of this on board without her face showing any trace of emotion. Eventually she stared past Fox’s left shoulder towards the well-stocked bar. He didn’t think she was focused on anything in particular; quite the opposite. She was lost in some memory.
‘James has always had a thing for the ladies — that’s pretty much word for word how he would put it. A romantic from the old school, all charm and guile. Plus roses, champagne and getting his own way. I felt duty-bound to agree to meet him, even though I knew he was after a favour.’ Her eyes settled on his. ‘Those files you asked for are on their way. Don’t worry, I’m not petty like that.’
‘I never doubted it.’
‘And Siobhan Clarke?’
‘Time hasn’t been quite right as yet.’
Her demeanour had become more businesslike. ‘How much trouble are we likely to be in, Malcolm?’
‘Police Scotland, you mean? I’ll do what I can.’
‘But?’
‘Tynecastle should have been dealt with generations back.’
‘And if a handful of the worst offenders end up being brought into the light...?’
He gave a thoughtful nod. ‘Maybe,’ he eventually said.
Lyon leaned forward across the small circular table. ‘It would be a personal favour to me if, despite your reservations, you did whatever’s possible for James.’ She paused. ‘You know there’s talk of a place at the top table for you? Higher even than DCI. Positions are about to become vacant, and your name is being mentioned.’
Fox just managed not to lick his lips. ‘Message received, ma’am,’ he said.
‘Call me Jennifer, Malcolm,’ the assistant chief constable purred.
Rebus had made sure his Saab was parked in a conspicuous spot. He didn’t walk down the lane to Tommy Oram’s lock-up straight away, but lingered by the car, not really doing anything, just standing there. Eventually he approached the lock-up, rattling the handle. The large metal door shook slightly without giving any indication that it would yield without a good deal more force than Rebus could apply. A couple of bikes passed the top of the lane. Two minutes later, they passed again. Rebus knew eyes were on him. After a few more minutes, two different bikes arrived. He recognised both faces from his last visit. Though not yet in their teens, they had learned to act older and meaner.
‘You need to beat it,’ the leader said, feet on the ground, hands wrapped around the handlebars of his bike.
‘Dog not with you today?’ Rebus said. Then, ‘You don’t remember me? Tommy will be disappointed — he pays you to be sharp.’