She shook her head. ‘He was thinking of himself. If we went after you, the two of them were in the clear. Judd’s difficult to control sometimes.’ Toal snorted at that. ‘Erik would rather he didn’t get worked up.’

Probably Stemmons had reined in Fuller, so all Fuller’s men had done was pistol-whip Rebus rather than put him out of the game. One yellow card: he couldn’t see Fuller giving a second. Rebus wanted to ask her more. He wanted to know how far she’d have gone to find out what he knew … But somehow he thought that line of questioning might blow all Malky’s fuses.

‘Who told the Yanks where I was staying?’

He already knew the answer – Ludovic Lumsden – but wanted it on tape if possible. But Eve shrugged, and Toal shook his head.

‘Tell me what you were doing in Aberdeen.’

Eve busied herself with her cigarette, so Toal cleared his throat.

‘Working for my dad.’

‘Doing what specifically?’

‘Selling an’ that.’

‘Selling?’

‘Dope – speed, skag, anything and everything.’

‘You sound very relaxed, Mr Toal.’

‘Mibbe resigned would be nearer the mark.’ Toal sat up in his chair. ‘Eve says we can trust you. I wouldn’t know about that, but I know what my dad’ll do when he finds out we’ve been skimming.’

‘So I’m the lesser of two evils?’

‘You said it, not me.’

‘All right, let’s get back to Aberdeen. You were supplying drugs?’

‘Aye.’

‘Who to?’

‘Burke’s Club.’

‘The individuals’ names?’

‘Erik Stemmons and Judd Fuller. Specifically Judd, though Erik knows the score, too.’ He smiled at Eve. ‘Score,’ he repeated. She nodded, letting him know she got the joke.

‘Why specifically Judd Fuller?’

‘Erik runs the club, does the business side of things. Doesnae’ like getting his hands dirty, you know, pretends everything’s above board.’

Rebus remembered Stemmons’ office – paperwork everywhere. Mr Businessman.

‘Can you give me a description of Fuller?’

‘You’ve met him: he gave you that beating.’ Toal grinned. The man with the pistol: had he sounded American? Had Rebus been listening that hard?

‘I didn’t see him though.’

‘Well, he’s six feet, black hair, it always looks wet. Brylcreem or something. Back-combs it, long, like that Saturday Night Fever guy.’

‘Travolta?’

‘Aye, in that other film. You know.’ Toal made like he was spraying the room with bullets.

‘Pulp Fiction?’

Toal clicked his fingers.

‘Except Judd’s face is thinner,’ Eve added. ‘In fact, he’s thinner all round. He does like wearing dark suits though. And there’s a scar on the back of one of his hands, looks like it was sewn together too tight.’

Rebus nodded. ‘Does Fuller deal only drugs?’

Toal shook his head. ‘Naw, he’s got fingers in every pie: prozzies, porn, casinos, a bit of reset, fake designer stuff – watches and shirts an’ that.’

‘All-round entrepreneur,’ Eve added, flicking ash into the waste-bin. She was being careful to say nothing that would incriminate her.

‘And Judd and Erik aren’t the only ones. There are some Yanks in Aberdeen worse than they are: Eddie Segal, Moose Maloney …’ Toal saw the look on Eve’s face and ground to a halt.