“Guests only,” the man explained.

Arnold took a step forward and glowered at him until it was decided he might be able to bend the rules just this once.

A single malt for Arnold, and tea for Rebus. They sat in the lounge. Leather chesterfield chairs, piped music. Only three guests were in there with them, huddled around the remains of their drinks, discussing as best they could the next day’s business meetings, voices slurred, eyes drooping.

Arnold had removed both jacket and tie, but was still recognizably an officer of the law. He asked Rebus how long he had left until the gold watch.

“I’m already retired,” Rebus admitted. “Cold case unit’s staffed by crocks like me.”

“You never told me that.” Arnold seemed to be weighing up whether to take offense or not. Eventually he chuckled into his glass. “I never even asked for ID, did I? You could have been anybody.”

“Sorry,” Rebus said.

Arnold chuckled again, but more wearily this time. He looked at his wristwatch. “Can’t wait here all night, can we?”

“I suppose not.”

“She could be out on the town.” Arnold yawned, stretching both arms wide, straining the buttons of his shirt. “You planning on heading back south?”

“That was the general idea.”

“I could get the stuff in the morning and send it to you.”

But Rebus was thinking of something else. He hadn’t brought his overnight bag with him this time, but all the same…

“One for the road?” he asked Arnold, signaling for the barman. When he ordered whisky for both of them, Arnold knew he could no longer rely on his designated driver to get him home.

37

37

Another dining room breakfast.

There was no sign of the businessmen from the lounge bar. Most of the guests seemed, like Rebus, to be traveling solo. It was half past seven, and Amanda on reception had informed him that Dora Causley didn’t get in until eight. He’d texted this information to Arnold, along with the offer of bacon and eggs. When Arnold arrived, however, in full uniform and showing no hint of the previous night’s intake, he wanted nothing but coffee and orange juice.

“Don’t do breakfast,” he informed Rebus as he pulled out the chair across the table.

“Me neither, unless it’s already paid for.” Rebus polished off the last triangle of toast. “Sleep all right?”

“Like a baby—wet the bed three times.”

Rebus smiled, as he felt was expected.

“How about you?” Arnold asked.

“I never seem to be able to sleep late in hotel rooms.”

“That’s hardly fair, is it?”

“Hardly,” Rebus agreed.

Their waitress was pouring refills when Causley, forewarned by the front desk, marched towards them, eyes only slightly bloodshot.

“Good morning,” she said.