‘The Templars’, Sithing said patiently, ‘were the military wing of the Prieuré de Sion, whose purpose was to find the treasure from the Temple of Solomon.’
‘Hence the name?’ Siobhan guessed. ‘There’s a village called Temple near here, isn’t there?’
‘With a ruined Templar church,’ Sithing added quickly. ‘Some say that Rosslyn Chapel is a replica of the Temple of Solomon. The Templars came to Scotland to escape persecution in the fourteenth century.’
‘When was it built?’ Siobhan couldn’t take her eyes off the treasures around her.
‘Fourteen forty-six, that’s when the foundations were laid. It took forty years to complete.’
‘Sounds like some builders I know,’ Rebus said.
‘Can’t you feel it?’ Sithing was staring at Rebus. ‘Right at the core of your cynical heart, can’t you feel something?’
‘It’s just indigestion, thanks for asking.’ Rebus rubbed his chest. Sithing turned to Siobhan. ‘But you can feel it, I know you can.’
‘It’s an amazing place, I’ll grant you that.’
‘You could spend a lifetime studying it, and still you wouldn’t have learned half its secrets.’
‘Who’s this ugly mug?’ Siobhan pointed to a gargoyle’s head.
‘That’s the Green Man.’
She turned to him. ‘Isn’t he a pagan symbol?’
‘That’s the whole point!’ Sithing yelped excitedly. He bounded over to her. ‘The chapel is almost pantheistic. Not just Christianity, but all belief systems.’
Siobhan nodded.
Rebus shook his head. ‘Earth to DC Clarke. Earth to DC Clarke.’
She made a face at him.
‘And those carvings on the roof,’ Sithing was saying, ‘plants from the New World.’ He paused for effect. ‘Carved a century before Columbus landed in America!’
‘Fascinating as this all is, sir,’ Rebus said tiredly, ‘it isn’t why we’re here.’
Siobhan pulled her gaze away from the Green Man. ‘That’s right, Mr Sithing. I told your story to Inspector Rebus, and he felt we should talk.’
‘About Chris Mackie?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you accept I knew him?’ He waited till Siobhan nodded. ‘And you accept he’d have wanted the Knights to have some sort of financial consideration from his estate?’
‘That’s not really for us to decide, Mr Sithing,’ Rebus said. ‘It’ll be a case for the lawyers.’ He paused. ‘But we can always put in a friendly word.’ He ignored Siobhan’s look, nodded slowly so that Gerald Sithing wouldn’t mistake the implication.
‘I see,’ Sithing said. He sat down on one of the chairs laid out for the congregation. ‘What is it you want to know?’ he asked quietly. Rebus sat on a chair across the aisle.
‘Did Mr Mackie seem at all interested in the Grieve family?’
For a moment, Sithing didn’t seem to have understood the question, then he asked, ‘How did you know?’ And Rebus knew they’d struck gold.
‘Is Hugh Cordover a member of your group?’
‘Yes,’ Sithing said, his eyes widening, as though in the presence of a magus.
‘Did Chris Mackie ever come here?’
Sithing shook his head. ‘I asked him many times, but he always said no.’
‘Didn’t that seem strange? I mean, you say he was interested in Rosslyn.’
‘I assumed he disliked travelling.’
‘So you met him in The Meadows, and talked about...?’
‘Lots of things.’
‘Among them, the Grieve family?’
Siobhan, aware that she was being excluded, sat herself in the row in front of Sithing, half-facing him.
‘Who brought up the Grieves first?’ she asked.
Sithing said he wasn’t sure.
‘My guess is’, Rebus said, ‘you were telling him about the Knights, and you mentioned Hugh Cordover.’
‘Maybe,’ Sithing admitted. Then he looked up. ‘Actually, that’s just how it happened!’ His gaze went to Rebus again: magus status confirmed.
Siobhan, even though it was her case, decided to keep quiet. Rebus quite clearly had Gerald Sithing in a kind of trance.
‘You mentioned Cordover,’ Rebus stated, ‘and Mackie wanted to know more?’
‘He’d been a fan of the band, said he knew their music. I think he even hummed me one of their songs, not that I was familiar with it. He asked a few questions, I answered where I could.’
‘And thereafter, when you met...?’
‘He would ask how Hugh and Lorna were.’
‘Did he ask about anyone else?’
‘They’re never out of the news, are they? I told him what stories I had.’
‘Ever wonder why he was so interested in the Grieves, Mr Sithing?’
‘Please, call me Gerald. Did you know, there’s an aura around you, Inspector? I’m sure of it.’
‘Probably just my aftershave.’ Siobhan snorted, but he ignored her. ‘Didn’t it seem to you that he was more interested in Hugh Cordover and his family than he was in the Knights of Rosslyn?’
‘Oh no, I’m sure that wasn’t the case.’
Rebus leaned forward. ‘Look into your heart, Gerald,’ he intoned.
Sithing did so, swallowed noisily. ‘Maybe you’re right. Yes, maybe you are. But tell me, why was he so interested in the Grieves?’
Rebus stood up, leaned down over Sithing. ‘Now how the hell would I know that?’ he said.
Back in the car, Siobhan smiled as she mimicked him. ‘“Look into your heart, Gerald.”’
‘Rum old bugger, wasn’t he?’ Rebus had the window down, so Siobhan would let him smoke.
‘So what have we got?’
‘We’ve got Supertramp feigning an interest in the Knights of Rosslyn while pumping information about the clan. We’ve got him interested in Hugh Cordover, but unwilling to come down to the chapel. Why? Because he didn’t want to meet Cordover.’
‘Because Cordover knew him?’ Siobhan guessed.
‘It’s a possibility.’
‘So are we any nearer finding out who he was?’
‘Maybe. Supertramp’s interested in the Grieves and in Skelly. Roddy Grieve dies in the grounds of Queensberry House, shortly after Skelly’s been uncovered. Around the same time, Supertramp takes the high dive.’
‘You want to roll three cases into one?’
Rebus shook his head. ‘We don’t have enough; the Farmer would never go for it. He’d certainly never let me run it the way it needs to be run.’
‘Speaking of which...’ Siobhan changed up through the gears as she left the village behind. ‘Where’s your sidekick?’
‘You mean Linford?’ Rebus shrugged. ‘Doing interviews.’
Siobhan looked sceptical. ‘Leaving you to your own devices?’
‘Derek Linford knows what’s good for him,’ Rebus said, flicking his cigarette out across the blood-bruised sky.
They had a war meeting: Rebus and Siobhan, Wylie and Hood. The back room at the Oxford Bar. They took the table at the far end, so there’d be no one near enough to overhear the conversation.
‘I’m seeing links between the three cases,’ Rebus said, having gone through his reasons. ‘Tell me now if you think I’m wrong.’
‘I’m not saying you’re wrong, sir,’ Wylie piped up, ‘but where’s the evidence?’
Rebus nodded. The beer in front of him was almost untouched. In deference to the non-smokers, his cigarette packet was still in its Cellophane. ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘That’s why I want us to ca’canny. At this stage, we need to be aware of each other. That way, when the connections come, we’ll see them straight off.’
‘What do I tell CI Templer?’ Siobhan asked. Gill Templer, Siobhan’s boss, the name resonant now.
‘You keep her up to snuff. The Chief Super, too, if it comes to that.’