‘What?’
‘You said you knew they’d all blame Billy’s disappearance on Darren Rough, and that would give you some time to get settled.’
‘That’s right.’
‘But I can think of a better way, a plan that would mean they’d give up looking for Billy.’
Mearn looked interested. ‘What’s that then?’
‘If Rough was dead,’ Rebus said quietly. ‘I mean, we’d look for Billy for a while, even if all we expected to find was a body hidden somewhere. But we’d call a halt eventually.’
‘I thought of that.’
Rebus sat down. ‘You did?’
Mearn was nodding. ‘You know, after I read about him being topped. I thought it was the answer to our prayers.’
Rebus was nodding. ‘And that’s why you did it?’
Mearn frowned. ‘Did what?’
‘Killed Darren Rough.’
The two men stared at one another. Then a look of horror spread across Mearn’s face. ‘N-n-no,’ he stammered. ‘No way, no way...’ His hands gripped the edge of the table. ‘Not me, I didn’t do it.’
‘No?’ Rebus looked surprised. ‘But you’ve got the perfect motive.’
‘Christ, I was starting a new life. How could I contemplate that if I’d topped someone?’
‘Lots of people do it, Eddie. I see them in here several times a year. I’d’ve thought it would be easy for someone with paramilitary training.’
Mearn laughed. ‘Where did you get that idea?’
‘It’s what they’re saying on the estate. When Joanna got pregnant with Billy, you ran off to join the terrorists.’
Mearn calmed down, looked around. ‘I think I want a solicitor,’ he said quietly.
‘One’s on its way,’ Rebus explained.
‘What about Billy?’
‘They’ve phoned his mum. She’s on her way too. Probably smartening herself up for the press conference.’
Mearn squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Shit,’ he whispered. Then: ‘Sorry, Billy.’ He was blinking back tears as he looked towards Rebus. ‘What gave us away?’
A nosy old lady and a line of parked cars, Rebus could have told him. But he hadn’t the heart.
There were cameras and microphones outside St Leonard’s; so many that the journalists were spilling on to the road. Cars and vans were sounding their horns, making it hard to hear Joanna Horman speaking of her emotional reunion with her son. No sign of Ray Heggie: Rebus wondered if she’d given him the push. And not much sign of emotion from young Billy Boy. His mother kept hugging him to her, almost smothering him as the cameramen bayed for another shot. She pockmarked his face with lipstick kisses. As she made to answer another question, Rebus noticed Billy trying to wipe his face clean.
There were civilians mixed in with the reporters: passers-by and the curious. A woman in a GAP T-shirt was trying to hand out leaflets: Van Brady. Across the road, a kid sat balanced on his bike, one hand touching a lamp-post for support. Rebus recognised him: Van’s youngest. No leaflets; no T-shirt — Rebus wondered about that. Was the boy less easily swayed than those around him?
‘And I’d like to thank the police for all their hard work,’ Joanna Horman was saying. You’re welcome, Rebus thought to himself, pushing through the scrum and crossing the road. ‘But most of all, I’d like to thank everyone at GAP for their support.’
A loud roar of agreement went up from Van Brady...
‘It’s Jamie, isn’t it?’
The boy on the bike nodded. ‘And you’re the cop who came looking for Darren.’
Darren: first name only. Rebus took out a cigarette, offered one to Jamie, who shook his head. Rebus lit up, exhaled.
‘I suppose you saw Darren around a bit?’
‘He’s dead.’
‘But before then. Before the story got out.’
Jamie nodded, eyes guarded.
‘Did he ever try anything?’
Now Jamie shook his head. ‘He just said hello, that’s all.’
‘Did he hang around the playground?’
‘Not that I saw.’ He was staring at the scene across the road.
‘Looks like Billy’s the centre of attention, eh?’ Rebus got the feeling Jamie was jealous, but trying not to let it show.
‘Yeah.’
‘I bet you’re glad he’s back.’
Jamie looked at him. ‘Cal’s moved in with his mum.’
Rebus took another draw on his cigarette. ‘She’s booted Ray out then?’ Jamie nodded again.
‘And moved your brother in?’ Rebus looked impressed. ‘That’s fast work.’
Jamie just grunted. Rebus saw an opening.
‘You don’t sound too chuffed: are you going to miss him?’
Jamie shrugged. ‘Not bothered.’ But he was. His brother had moved out; his mother was busy with GAP; and now Billy Boy Horman was getting all the attention.
‘You ever see Darren with anyone? I don’t mean kids, I mean visitors.’
‘Not really.’
Rebus angled his face so Jamie had little choice but to look at him. ‘You don’t sound too sure.’
‘Someone came looking for him.’
‘When?’
‘When all the stuff about GAP started.’
‘Friend of Darren’s?’
Another shrug. ‘He didn’t say.’
‘Well, what did he say, Jamie?’
‘Said he was looking for the guy from the newspaper. He had the paper with him.’ The paper: the story outing Darren Rough.
‘Were those his exact words: “the guy from the newspaper”?’
Jamie smiled. ‘I think he said “chap”.’
‘Chap?’
Jamie put on a posh voice. ‘“The chap who was in the newspaper.”’
‘Not a local then?’
Now Jamie let out a stuttering laugh.
‘What did he look like?’
‘Old, quite tall. He had a moustache. His hair was grey, but the moustache was black.’
‘You’d make a good detective, Jamie.’
Jamie wrinkled his nose in distaste. His mother had spotted the conversation, was making to cross the road towards them.
‘Jamie!’ she called, trying to weave between traffic.
‘What did you tell him, Jamie?’
‘I pointed to Darren’s flat. Told him I knew Darren wasn’t in.’
‘What did the man do?’
‘Gave me a fiver.’ He looked around, almost furtively. ‘I followed him back to his car.’
Rebus smiled. ‘You really would make a detective.’
Another shrug. ‘It was a big white car. I think it was a Merc.’
Rebus backed off as Van Brady reached them.
‘What’s he been saying, Jamie?’ she asked, staring daggers at Rebus. But Jamie looked at her defiantly.
‘Nothing,’ he said.
She looked at Rebus, who just shrugged. When she turned back to her son, Rebus winked at him. Jamie gave the flicker of a smile. For a few moments, he’d been the centre of someone’s attention.
‘I was just asking about Cal,’ Rebus told Van Brady. ‘I’ve heard he’s moving in with Joanna.’
She turned on him. ‘What’s it to you?’
He nodded towards the leaflet in her hand. ‘Got one of those for me?’
‘If you did your job right,’ she sneered, ‘we wouldn’t need GAP.’
‘What makes you think we need it anyway?’ Rebus asked her, turning to walk away.
Rebus got on the computer, and decided to cover his bets by talking to the area’s Merc dealerships. He already knew one person who drove a white Merc: the widow Margolies. Rebus tapped his pen against his desk, started calling. He got lucky with the first number he tried.
‘Oh, yes, Dr Margolies is a regular customer. He’s been buying nothing but Mercedes for donkey’s years.’