Davidson blew his nose loudly. ‘Of course, Dec and Ken are running the shop, but they don’t own it.’

‘Telford does,’ Rebus stated.

‘Okay,’ Claverhouse said. ‘So we’ve got Telford owning a lossmaking business, in the hope of gathering intelligence.’

‘I think it goes further than that,’ Rebus said. ‘I mean, listening in on gossip is one thing, but I don’t suppose any of the workers are standing around talking about the various security systems and how to beat them. Dec and Ken are garrulous, perfect for the job Telford’s given them. But it’s going to look suspicious if they start asking too many questions.’

‘So what’s Telford looking for?’

Ormiston asked. Siobhan Clarke turned to him.

‘A mole,’ she said.

‘Makes sense,’ Davidson went on. ‘That place is well-protected, but not impregnable. We all know any break-in’s going to be a lot easier with someone on the inside.’

‘So what do we do?’ Clarke asked.

‘We fight Telford’s sting with our own,’ Rebus explained. ‘He wants a man on the inside, me give him one.’

‘I’m seeing the head of Maclean’s later on tonight,’ Davidson said.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Claverhouse said, keen not to be left out.

‘So we put someone of our own inside the factory.’

Clarke was working it out for herself. ‘And they shoot their mouth off in the shop, making them an attractive proposition. And we sit and pray that Telford approaches them rather than: anyone else?’

‘The less luck we have to rely on the better,’ Claverhouse said. ‘Got to do this right.’

‘Which is why we work it like this.’

Rebus said. ‘There’s a bookie called Marty Jones. He owes me one big favour. Say our man’s just been into Telford’s shop. As he’s coming out, a car pulls up. Marty and a couple of his men. Marty wants some bets paid off. Big argy-bargy, and a punch in the guts as warning.’

Clarke could see it. ‘He stumbles back into the shop, sits down to catch his breath. Dec and Ken ask him what’s going on.’

‘And he gives them the whole sorry story: gambling debts, broken marriage, whatever.’

‘To make him more attractive still,’ Davidson said, ‘we make him a security guard.’

Ormiston looked at him. ‘You think Maclean’s will go for it?’

‘We’ll persuade them,’ Claverhouse said quietly.

‘More importantly,’ Clarke asked, ‘will Telford go for it?’

‘Depends how desperate he is,’ Rebus answered.

‘A man on the inside ...’

Ormiston’s eyes were alight. ‘Working for Telford - it’s what we’ve always wanted.’

Claverhouse nodded. ‘Just one thing.’

He looked at Rebus and Davidson. ‘Who’s it going to be? Telford knows us.’

‘We get someone from outside,’ Rebus said. ‘Someone I’ve worked with before. Telford won’t have heard of him. He’s a good man.’

‘Is he willing?’

There was silence around the table.

‘Depends who’s asking,’ a voice called from the doorway. A stocky man with thick, well-groomed hair and narrow eyes. Rebus got up, shook Jack Morton’s hand, made the introductions.