The Beat Goes On: The Complete Rebus Stories (Rebus Collection) Read Free

reaction.’
    ‘But there was.’ Rebus nodded towards the pocket watch, still resting in Gilmour’s hand.
    ‘It’s just a keepsake, John.’
    ‘A keepsake with a little scrap of cardboard hidden inside. You know what they told me at the forensics lab? They told me it’s a cinema ticket, one of those old-fashioned stubs they used to give you. They can’t make out any of the details. My guess is, the date and time would have been legible at one time, maybe even the title of the film.’
    ‘You’re thinking Liberty Valance ?’
    ‘Seems to fit the bill. A tiny bit of evidence that would have helped Joseph Blay’s case. Probably emptied out his pockets when he was arrested, and Charlie Cruikshank palmed it. Knew he couldn’t have it being found. So Blay’s found guilty and Cruikshank is there to watch him hanged. He still has the ticket stub so he hides it inside the watch, just because he can. That’s why he needed you to keep an eye on Joseph Blay – because that stub could have proved a man’s innocence. Your boss was content to see someone go to the scaffold, no matter whether they’d committed the crime or not.’
    ‘We can’t know that, John. Who’s to say how that stub ended up where it did?’
    ‘You know I’m right though.’
    ‘Good luck proving it.’
    Rebus shook his head. ‘We both know I can’t do that.’
    ‘But do you want to do it? See, being a cop isn’t just about getting to the truth – it’s knowing what to do with it when you arrive. Making judgement calls, some of them at a moment’s notice.’
    ‘That’s not what Cruikshank did though, is it?’
    ‘Maybe it is. He knows Blay’s guilty. That ticket could have come from anywhere – Blay could have picked it up off the pavement or from the floor of a bus. Charlie took it out of circulation so as not to confuse the jury.’
    ‘He wanted a guilty verdict at all costs.’
    ‘He didn’t want a guilty man to get off, John. That’s the story here.’
    ‘And you’d do the exact same thing, Stefan? That’s what your old mentor taught you?’
    ‘He gave his whole life to the job, John, heart and soul.’ Gilmour rose to his feet and stood in front of Rebus. He held out the pocket watch. ‘Do you want this?’ he asked.
    ‘What would I do with it?’
    ‘You’d take it to The Complaints, lay out your version of events.’
    ‘And what good would that do?’ Rebus stared at the watch, then averted his gaze and shook his head. Gilmour waited a few more beats, then stuffed the watch into his coat.
    ‘That’s us then,’ he said, reaching out his hand. ‘Welcome to the Saints of the Shadow Bible, John.’
    After only a moment’s hesitation, Rebus stood up and returned the handshake.
     

 
     
     
     
     
    Playback
     
     
     
     
     
    It was the perfect murder.
    Perfect, that is, so far as the Lothian and Borders Police were concerned. The murderer had telephoned in to confess, had then panicked and attempted to flee, only to be caught leaving the scene of the crime. End of story.
    Except that now he was pleading innocence. Pleading, yelling and screaming it. And this worried Detective Inspector John Rebus, worried him all the way from his office to the four-storey tenement in Leith’s trendy dockside area. The tenements here were much as they were in any working-class area of Edinburgh, except that they boasted colour-splashed roller blinds or Chinese-style bamboo affairs at their windows, and their grimy stone fa ç ades had been power-cleaned, their doors now boasting intruder-proof intercoms. A far cry from the greasy Venetian blinds and kicked-in passageways of the tenements in Easter Road or Gorgie, or even in nearby parts of Leith itself, the parts the developers were ignoring as yet.
    The victim had worked as a legal secretary, this much Rebus knew. She had been twenty-four years old. Her name was Moira Bitter. Rebus smiled at that. It was a guilty smile, but at this hour of the morning any smile he could raise