‘I don’t understand the question.’

‘I think you do.’

‘Think again.’

‘Do you know why Geddes was kicked off the Bible John inquiry?’

‘No.’ It was the one question that had power, real power: it could get to Rebus.

Because he wanted to know the answer.

‘You don’t? He never told you?’

‘Never.’

‘But he talked about Bible John?’

‘Yes.’

‘See, it’s all a bit vague …’ Ancram went into a drawer, hefted two more bulging files on to the desk. ‘I’ve got Geddes’s personnel file and reports here. Plus some stuff from the Bible John inquiry, bits and pieces he was involved in. Seems he grew obsessed.’ Ancram opened one file, turned pages idly, then looked at Rebus. ‘Does that sound familiar?’

‘You’re saying he was obsessed with Lenny Spaven?’

‘I know he was.’ Ancram let that sink in, nodding his head. ‘I know it from interviews with officers from the time, but more importantly I know it because of Bible John.’

The bastard had hooked Rebus. They were only twenty minutes into the interview. Rebus crossed his legs, tried to look unconcerned. His face was so taut, he knew the muscles were probably visible beneath the skin.

‘See,’ Ancram went on, ‘Geddes tried to tie Spaven to the Bible John case. Now, the notes aren’t complete. Either they were destroyed or lost, or else Geddes and his superior didn’t write down everything. But Geddes was going after Spaven, no doubt about that. Tucked away in one of the files I found some old photographs. Spaven’s in them.’ Ancram held the photos up. ‘They’re from the Borneo campaign. Geddes and Spaven were in the Scots Guards together. My feeling is that something happened out there, and from then on Geddes was out for Spaven’s blood. How am I doing so far?’

‘Filling the time nicely till the ciggie break. Can I see those photos?’

Ancram shrugged, handed them over. Rebus looked. Old black and whites with crimped edges, a couple of them no bigger than two inches by an inch and a half, the rest four by sixes. Rebus picked Spaven out straight away, the raptor grin hauling him into history. There was a minister in the photos, army uniform and dog collar. Other men posing, dressed in baggy shorts and long socks, faces sweat-shiny, eyes almost scared. Some of the faces were blurred; Rebus couldn’t make out Lawson Geddes in any of them. The photos were exteriors, bamboo huts in the background, an old jeep nosing into one shot. He turned them over, read an inscription – Borneo, 1965 – and some names.

‘Did these come from Lawson Geddes?’ Rebus asked, handing them back.

‘I’ve no idea. They were just in with all the other Bible John junk.’ Ancram slipped them back into the file, counting them as he did so.

‘They’re all there,’ Rebus said. Jack Morton’s chair scraped the floor: he was checking how long till the tape had to be switched.

‘So,’ Ancram said, ‘we’ve got Geddes and Spaven serving together in the Scots Guards; we’ve got Geddes chasing Spaven during the Bible John inquiry – and getting booted off the case; then we wind forwards a few years and what do we have? Geddes still chasing Spaven, but this time for the murder of Elizabeth Rhind. And getting booted off the case again.’