He fixed her with a look. “If we hadn’t been there, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

“I know it can’t be easy, John…”

Fox handed Rebus a coffee and asked Clarke if she wanted one.

“Maybe a tea,” she said, watching as Fox retreated to the machine, digging into his pocket for more loose change.

“You sent Malcolm,” Rebus said. “Is that because he needed it or I did? I should probably warn you, I make a poor patient but a worse therapist.”

“It’s not therapy Malcolm needs. He’d done all the work tracing that number. I thought he deserved to be there at the end.”

“So it wasn’t just a case of you steering clear?”

“How do you mean?”

“Maybe you’ve been on hand at too many of my fuck-ups. And here you are outranking me, running your own major incident.” He paused. “Maybe letting me know I’m history…”

“That wasn’t my thinking.”

“No?”

“No,” she stated.

“I wish I could believe you.” Rebus stopped as Fox returned with her drink. She took it from him with a muttered “Thanks,” then asked if there was any news.

“Neither one of them’s in any danger,” Fox obliged. “And John’s already heard Mrs. Blantyre admit to shooting Saunders.”

“Accidentally,” Rebus added. “I told you how it is with Brownings.” His eyes met Clarke’s, willing her to challenge him.

“She took it with her to the canal, though—and ended up pointing it at her victim.”

“To scare him off, so the last few months of her husband’s life wouldn’t be spent in an interview room or police custody.”

“You sound like her lawyer.” Clarke shifted her attention to Fox. “Solicitor General’s going to be happy, wouldn’t you say?”

Fox just shrugged, and Clarke stared at her drink, her shoulders slumping. “Look at the three of us,” she said. “A result in the bag and feeling no better for it.”

Fox made to sit down, lifting the big black book which Rebus had left there. He rested it on his knees, and Clarke could just make out the lettering on its cover.

Scots Criminal Law.

Day Fourteen

Day Fourteen

26

26

You okay?” Fox asked.

“Sure. And thanks for coming.”

“You really think I’m required?”

Rebus threw him a glance. “You’ve got heft. That’s what I need.”

“Not my brains or beauty, then?”

Rebus concentrated on the road. They were in the Saab, heading for Livingston. “Anything to report?”

“They were kept in overnight. Neither one of them had managed to ingest many of the tablets. Maggie Blantyre will be interviewed formally this afternoon.”

“And her husband?”

“At a date to be decided, once we’ve had a medical report.” Fox looked at Rebus. “For what it’s worth, she’s sticking to her story. Saunders tried taking the gun from her and it went off.”

“You believe that?”