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Starks?’
    ‘I can try to find out.’ Fox paused. ‘Always supposing
    you’re willing to trust me that far.’
    ‘You know Cafferty to talk to?’
    ‘Yes.’ Fox managed not to blink.
    ‘You can bring up the Starks without him getting wind of
    the surveillance?’

    ‘Absolutely.’
    Compston looked at the other members of his team. ‘What
    do we think?’
    ‘Risky,’ Hastie offered.
    ‘Agreed,’ Alec Bell muttered.
    ‘Fox is right about one thing, though,’ Compston said, rising
    to his feet. ‘Starks hit town and almost immediately someone
    fires a shot across the bows of the competition. Could well be a
    message.’ His eyes were boring into Fox’s. ‘You reckon you’re
    up to this?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘How will you do it?’
    Fox shrugged. ‘We just chat. I’m pretty good at reading
    people. If he suspects the Starks, he may let something slip.’ He
    paused. ‘I’m assuming they’d have access to a gun?’
    Alec Bell snorted.
    ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ Then, to Compston: ‘So do I talk to
    him or not?’
    ‘You don’t so much as hint at the surveillance.’
    Fox nodded, then gestured towards the silent, cadaverous
    figure of Jake Emerson. ‘Doesn’t say much, does he?’
    ‘Not in front of Complaints he doesn’t,’ Emerson sneered.
    ‘Scumbuckets, the lot of you.’
    ‘See?’ Compston said with a smile. ‘Jake keeps his counsel
    mostly, but when he does speak, it’s always worth hearing.’ He held out a hand for Fox to take. ‘You’re on probation, but for
    what it’s worth – welcome to Operation Junior.’
    ‘Junior?’
    Compston gave a cold smile. ‘If you’re any kind of
    detective, you’ll work it out,’ he said, releasing his grip.

    Five

    Fox stood on the pavement outside the four-storey tenement on
    Arden Street and made the call, his eyes fixed on one of the
    second-floor windows.
    ‘What do you want?’ Rebus’s voice asked.
    ‘You at home?’
    ‘Bowls game doesn’t start for another hour.’
    ‘Using your bus pass to get there?’
    ‘You’re sharper than you used to be – that’s what a spell in
    CID does for you.’
    ‘Can I come up?’
    Rebus’s face appeared at the window. ‘I was just nipping out
    to the shop.’
    ‘I’ll walk with you. I thought we could talk about Cafferty.’
    ‘Why would we want to do that?’
    ‘I’ll tell you when you come down.’ Fox ended the call,
    holding the phone away from him for effect. Rebus remained at
    the window for a moment, then disappeared. Two minutes later,
    wrapped in a three-quarter-length black woollen coat, he
    emerged into the street, turning left and heading uphill, Fox at
    his heels.
    ‘Before you ask, I’ve cut back,’ he informed Fox as he lifted
    a cigarette from a near-empty packet.

    ‘Have you tried vaping?’
    ‘I hate that word.’
    ‘Have you, though?’
    ‘A couple of times. It’s just not the same.’ Rebus stopped
    briefly to get the cigarette lit. ‘There’s some news on Cafferty?’
    ‘Not exactly.’
    Rebus looked at Fox for the first time since coming out of
    the tenement. ‘So I’m here under false pretences?’ He started
    walking again.
    ‘Do the names Joe and Dennis Stark mean anything to you?’
    ‘Joe’s an old-time Glasgow thug. His son didn’t fall far from
    the tree.’
    ‘Ever had dealings with either of them?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Might Cafferty?’
    ‘Almost certainly. You couldn’t have one city tramping on
    the other’s turf, not without war breaking out.’
    ‘So there’d have been powwows between the two?’
    ‘And their equivalents in Aberdeen, maybe Dundee . . .’
    ‘That’s interesting.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because the Starks visited both those places recently.’
    ‘What’s your thinking, Malcolm?’ Rebus glanced in Fox’s
    direction. ‘And by the way, are you and Siobhan sleeping
    together?’
    ‘Would it bother you if we were?’
    ‘I’ll always look out for her. Anyone hurts her, it’ll be me
    they answer