‘You know,’ he said, ‘I’m not blaming you. I think I know what you were going through. But there was a cover-up. There was that one central lie: the tip-off.’ He lifted his notes an inch off the desk. ‘It’s written all over these, and it throws everything else into the pot, because if Geddes had been following Spaven, what was to stop him planting a little evidence along the way?’

‘It wasn’t his style.’

‘Not even when pushed to the limit? Had you seen him there before?’

Rebus couldn’t think of a thing to say. Ancram had been leaning forward in his seat again, palms against the desk. He sat back. ‘What did you want to ask?’

When Rebus was a child, they’d lived in a semi-detached with a close separating it from the next house along. The close had led to both back gardens. Rebus played football there with his dad. Sometimes he placed a foot against either wall and pushed his way up towards the roof of the close. And sometimes he’d just stand in the middle and throw a small hard rubber ball as hard as he could against the stone floor. The ball would bounce like anything, zipping back and forth, floor to roof to wall to floor to roof …

His head felt like that now.

‘What?’ he said.

‘You said you had a couple of questions.’

Slowly, Rebus’s head came back to the here and now. He rubbed his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘First off, Eve and Stanley.’

‘What about them?’

‘Are they close?’

‘You mean how do they get on? All right.’

‘Just all right?’

‘No flare-ups to report.’

‘I was thinking more of jealousy.’

Ancram cottoned on. ‘Uncle Joe and Stanley?’

Rebus nodded. ‘Is she clever enough to play one off against the other?’ He’d met her, thought he already knew the answer. Ancram just shrugged. The conversation had obviously taken an unexpected turn.

‘Only,’ Rebus said, ‘in Aberdeen they were sharing a hotel room.’

Ancram narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re sure of this?’ Rebus nodded. ‘They must be mad. Uncle Joe’ll kill them both.’

‘Maybe they don’t think he can.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Maybe they think they’re stronger than him. Maybe they reckon in a war the muscle-men would change sides. Stanley’s the one people are scared of these days, you said as much yourself. Especially with Tony El gone.’

‘Tony was history anyway.’

‘I’m not so sure.’

‘Explain.’

Rebus shook his head. ‘I need to talk to a couple of people first. Have you heard of Eve and Stanley working together in the past?’

‘No.’

‘So this Aberdeen jaunt …?’

‘I’d say it’s a newish excursion.’

‘Hotel records say the past six months.’

‘So the question is, what’s Uncle Joe setting up?’

Rebus smiled. ‘I think you know the answer to that: drugs. He’s lost the market in Glasgow, it’s already been divvied up. So he can fight for a piece, or he can play away from home. Burke’s will take the stuff and sell it on, especially with someone from CID in their pocket. Aberdeen’s still a nice market, not the hotbed of fifteen or twenty years ago, but a market nonetheless.’