She was looking at him. ‘Tarawicz here,’ he said, ‘Crab in Newcastle. Why?’

She shrugged, looked thoughtful. ‘He don’t come.’

She was remembering some snippet of conversation. ‘Danger.’

‘Dangerous?’

Rebus frowned. ‘Who for?’

She shrugged again. Rebus took her hands.

‘You can’t trust him, Dunya. You have to leave him.’

She smiled up at him, eyes glinting. ‘I tried.’

They looked at one another, held one another for a while. Afterwards, he walked her back out to her taxi.

28

In the morning he called the hospital, found out how Sammy was doing, then asked to be transferred.

‘How’s Danny Simpson getting on?’

‘I’m sorry, are you family?’

Which told him everything. He identified himself, asked when it had happened.

‘In the night,’ the nurse said.

Body at its lowest ebb: the dying hours. Rebus called the mother, identified himself again. .

‘Sorry to hear the news,’ he said. ‘Is the funeral . . . ?’

‘Just family, if you don’t mind. No flowers. We’re asking for donations to be sent to an ... to a charity. Danny was well thought of, you know.’

‘I’m sure.’

Rebus took down details of the charity - an AIDS hospice; the mother couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Terminated the call. Got an envelope out and put in ten pounds, plus a note: ‘In memory of Danny Simpson’. He wondered about going for that test ... His phone rang and he picked it up.

‘Hello?’

Lots of static and engine noise: car-phone, on the move at speed.

‘This takes persecution to new levels.’

Telford.

‘What do you mean?’

Rebus trying to compose himself.

‘Danny Simpson’s been dead six hours, and already you’re on the phone to his mum.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I was there. Paying my respects.’

‘Same reason I phoned then. Know what, Telford? I think you’re taking persecution complexes to new levels.’

‘Yes, and Cafferty’s not out to shut me down.’

‘He says he didn’t have anything to do with Paisley.’

‘I bet you believed in the Tooth Fairy when you were a kid.’

‘I still do.’

‘You’ll need more than a good fairy if you side with Cafferty.’

‘Is that a threat? Don’t tell me: Tarawicz is in the car with you?’

Silence. Bingo, Rebus thought. ‘You think Tarawicz will respect you because you bad-mouth cops? He’s got no respect for you whatsoever - look how he’s waving Candice in your face.’

Mixing levity with fury: ‘Hey, Rebus, you and Candice in that hotel - what was she like? Jake tells me she’s vindaloo.’

Background laughter: Mr Pink Eyes, who, according to Candice, had never touched her. For ‘laughter’ read ‘bravado’. Telford and Tarawicz, playing games between themselves, playing games with the world.

Rebus found the tone of voice he wanted. ‘I tried to help her. If she’s too stupid to know that, she deserves the likes of you and Tarawicz.’

Telling them he had no further interest in her. ‘Anyway, Tarawicz didn’t have any trouble taking her off your hands.’