Rebus dropped the bottle back into his pocket.

‘I take it you’ve a favour to ask?’

‘Yes.’

Cafferty crossed his legs, utterly at ease. ‘What is it?’

‘You know Joseph Toal?’

‘Everyone and their dog knows Uncle Joe.’

‘Yes, but you know him.’

‘So?’ There was an edge to Cafferty’s smile.

‘I want you to phone him, get him to speak to me.’

Cafferty considered the request. ‘Why?’

‘I want to ask him about Anthony Kane.’

‘Tony E1? I thought he was dead.’

‘He left his prints at a murder scene in Niddrie.’ Never mind what the boss said, Rebus was treating this as murder. And he knew the word would make more of an impression on Cafferty. It did. His lips rounded into an O, and he whistled.

‘That was stupid of him. Tony E1 didn’t used to be so stupid. And if he was still working for Uncle Joe … There could be fallout.’ Rebus knew that connections were being made in Cafferty’s mind, and they all led to Joseph Toal becoming his Barlinnie neighbour. There would be reasons for Cafferty to want Toal inside: old scores, debts unpaid, territory encroached. There were always old scores to be settled. Cafferty came to his decision.

‘You’ll need to get me a phone.’

Rebus got up, walked over to the guard who’d barked ‘Not allowed’, slipped the whisky into the man’s pocket.

‘We need to get him a phone,’ he said.

They marched Cafferty left and right through corridors until they reached a payphone. They’d had to pass through three sets of gates.

‘This is as near to the outside as I’ve been in a while,’ Cafferty joked.

The guards weren’t laughing. Rebus provided the money for the call.

‘Now,’ said Cafferty, ‘let’s see if I remember …’ He winked at Rebus, pressed seven digits, waited.

‘Hello?’ he said. ‘Who’s that?’ He listened to the name. ‘Never heard of you. Listen, tell Uncle Joe that Big Ger wants a word. Just tell him that.’ He waited, glanced at Rebus, licked his lips. ‘He says what? Tell him I’m phoning from the Bar-L and money’s short.’

Rebus pushed another coin home.

‘Well,’ Cafferty growing angry, ‘tell him he’s got a tattoo on his back.’ He covered the mouthpiece. ‘Not something Uncle Joe goes blabbing about.’

Rebus got as close as he could to the earpiece, heard a dull rasp of a voice.

‘Morris Gerald Cafferty, is that you? I thought someone was winding me up.’

‘Hello, Uncle Joe. How’s business?’

‘Loupin’. Who’s listening in?’

‘At the last count, three monkeys and a dick.’

‘You always liked an audience, that was your problem.’

‘Sound advice, Uncle Joe, but years too late.’

‘So what do they want?’ They: Rebus the dick and the three monkey guards.

‘The dick’s from Edinburgh CID, he wants to come talk to you.’

‘What about?’

‘Tony El.’

‘What’s to tell? Tony hasn’t worked for me in a twelvemonth.’

‘Then tell the nice policeman that. Seems Tony’s been up to his old tricks. There’s a cold one in Edinburgh, and Tony’s prints on the scene.’