Rebus was powerless to prevent the sudden choking laugh that escaped him. He tried camouflaging it as a cough, but to little avail. Some in the audience had turned in their seats to seek out the commotion’s cause. Even Tench had been pulled up short. What he saw from the stage was Morris Gerald Cafferty patting the back of Detective Inspector John Rebus. Rebus knew he’d been recognized, despite the hand he was holding over his mouth and nose. Tench, put off his stride, worked hard to regain the momentum of his speech, but some of his previous forcefulness had evaporated into the night. He handed the microphone to the woman next to him, who emerged from her trancelike state and started reciting in a monotone from the copious notes in front of her.
Cafferty passed in front of Rebus and stepped outside. After a moment, Rebus followed. Cafferty was pacing the parking lot. Rebus lit a cigarette and bided his time till his nemesis was standing before him.
“I still don’t get it,” Rebus admitted, flicking ash from the cigarette.
Cafferty shrugged. “And you’re supposed to be the detective.”
“A clue or two would help.”
Cafferty stretched out his arms. “This is his territory, Rebus, his little fiefdom. But he’s getting itchy, planning to expand.”
“You mean Tench?” Rebus narrowed his eyes. “You’re saying he’s the one muscling in on your turf?”
“Mr. Fire and Brimstone himself.” Cafferty lowered his arms so that his hands slapped his thighs, as if placing a period on the proceedings.
“I still don’t get it.”
Cafferty glared at Rebus. “The thing is, he sees nothing wrong with shouldering me aside, because he’s got righteousness on his side. By controlling the illicit, he makes it a force for good.” Cafferty gave a sigh. “Sometimes I think that’s how half the globe operates. It’s not the underworld you should be watching-it’s the overworld. Men like Tench and his ilk.”
“He’s a councilman,” Rebus argued. “I mean, they may take the occasional bribe…”
Cafferty was shaking his head. “He wants power, Rebus. He wants control. See how much he loves being able to make his speeches? The stronger he is, the more talking he can do-and be listened to.”
“So set some of your thugs on him, make sure he gets the message.”
Cafferty’s eyes bored into him. “That’s your best shot, is it?”
Rebus shrugged. “This is between you and him.”
“I’m owed a favor…”
“You’re owed the square root of fuck-all. Good luck to him if he takes you out of the game.” Rebus flicked the remains of the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his heel.
“You sure about that?” Cafferty asked quietly. “You sure you’d rather have him running the show? Man of the people…man with political clout? Think he’ll be an easier target than me? But then, you’re just shy of retirement…so maybe it’s Siobhan we should be thinking of. What is it they say?” Cafferty angled his head upward, as if the words were somewhere up there. “Better the devil you know,” he declared.
Rebus folded his arms. “You didn’t bring me here to show me Gareth Tench,” he said. “You did it to show me to him-the two of us side by side, you patting me on the back…a nice little portrait we must have made. You want him to think I’m in your pocket, and the rest of CID with me.”
Cafferty tried to look hurt by the accusation. “You overestimate me, Rebus.”
“I doubt that. You could have told me all this back in Arden Street.”
“But then you’d have missed the show.”
“Aye, and so would Councilman Tench. Tell me, how’s he going to finance this takeover? And where are the soldiers to back him up?”
Cafferty stretched his arms out again, this time spinning 360 degrees. “He owns this whole district-the bad as well as the good.”
“And the money?”
“He’ll talk his way into the money, Rebus. It’s what he does best.”
“I do talk a good game, it’s true.” Both men turned to see Gareth Tench standing in the doorway, illuminated from behind. “And I’m not easily scared, Cafferty-not by you, not by your friends.” Rebus was about to protest, but Tench hadn’t finished. “I’m cleaning up this area, no reason I can’t do the same job elsewhere in the city. If your pals in the force won’t put you out of business, the community might have to.”
Rebus noted the two thickset men standing farther back in the doorway, on either side of Tench. “Let’s go,” he suggested to Cafferty. Last thing he wanted was to step in between Cafferty and a beating.
All the same, he knew he’d have to step in.
His hand was on Cafferty’s arm. The gangster shrugged him off. “I’ve never fought a battle and lost,” Cafferty warned Tench. “Think about that before you start.”
“I don’t need to do anything,” Tench shot back. “Your little empire’s turning to dust. Time you woke up to the fact. Having trouble recruiting bouncers for your pubs? Can’t find tenants for your death-trap apartments? Taxi firm short a few drivers?” A smile was spreading across Tench’s face. “You’re in the twilight zone, Cafferty. Wake up and smell the coffin…”
Cafferty started to spring forward. Rebus grabbed him, just as Tench’s men pushed past their boss. Rebus turned Cafferty, so his own back was facing the door. He gave the gangster a shove toward the Bentley.
“Get in and get going,” he ordered.
“Never lost a battle!” Cafferty was raging, face puce. But he yanked open the door and dumped himself into the driver’s seat. As Rebus walked around to the passenger side, he looked toward the doorway. Tench was waving a gloating good-bye. Rebus wanted to say something, if only to let Tench know he wasn’t Cafferty’s man…but the councilman was already turning away, leaving his minions to monitor proceedings.
“I’m going to rip his fucking eyeballs out and make him suck them like jawbreakers,” Cafferty was snarling, flecks of saliva pocking the inside of the windshield. “And if he wants concrete fucking proposals, I’ll mix the cement myself before I whack him with the shovel-now that’s betterment of the community!”
Cafferty stopped talking as he maneuvered out of the lot. But his breathing remained fast and noisy. Eventually, he turned toward his passenger. “I swear to God, when I get my hands on that prick…” His knuckles were white as they wrapped themselves around the steering wheel.
“But if you do say anything,” Rebus intoned, “which may be used against you as evidence in a court of law…”
“They’d never convict,” Cafferty roared with a wild laugh. “Forensics will have to scoop up what’s left of him with a teaspoon.”
“But if you do say anything…” Rebus repeated.
“It started three years back,” Cafferty said, making an effort to control his breathing. “Gaming licenses refused, bar applications refused…I was even going to open a cab office on his turf, take a few of the locals off the dole. He made sure the council bounced me out every time.”
“So it’s not just that you’ve finally met someone with the guts to stand up to you?”
Cafferty glanced at Rebus. “I thought that was your job.”
“Maybe it is.”
Eventually, Cafferty broke the resulting silence. “I need a drink,” he said, licking his lips. The corners of his mouth were coated with white flecks.
“Good idea,” Rebus told him. “Like me, maybe you’ll drink to forget…”
He kept watching Cafferty during the rest of the silent ride back into town. The man had killed and gotten away with it-probably more times than Rebus knew. He’d fed victims to the hungry pigs on a Borders farm. He’d ruined countless lives, served four jail terms. He’d been a savage since his teenage years, served an apprenticeship as enforcer to the London mob…
So why the hell was Rebus feeling sorry for him?
“I’ve got some thirty-year-old malt at the house,” Cafferty was saying. “Butterscotch and heather and melted butter…”