Even dogs in the wild by Ian Rankin Page B

note?’
    ‘Looks like the same pen, probably the same hand. Again,
    I’d like an expert to give us an opinion.’
    ‘Reckon it adds up?’ Rebus folded his arms. ‘Minton was
    attacked inside his home by someone who broke in. Not nearly
    the same MO as standing on somebody’s lawn and shooting
    through a window.’
    ‘You think the notes and the shooting are unconnected?’
    ‘I’m just raising a doubt. The murder in Linlithgow has
    more in common with Minton than this does.’
    ‘What murder in Linlithgow?’ Cafferty interrupted.

    ‘Not important,’ Clarke told him.
    ‘Lottery winner a few weeks back,’ Rebus added, earning a
    glare of disapproval from Clarke for his efforts.
    ‘I remember hearing about that,’ Cafferty said.
    ‘It’s really not important,’ Clarke stressed.
    ‘So what’s next?’ Rebus asked.
    ‘Mr Cafferty needs to come to HQ and give a statement.’
    ‘No way,’ Cafferty stated, raising a hand. ‘I walk in there,
    it’s going to be all over the news.’
    ‘We could bring the recording equipment here,’ Rebus
    suggested. Clarke gave him another look. ‘And by “we”, of
    course I mean Police Scotland.’
    ‘I’m not sure the Fiscal’s office would go for it,’ Clarke
    said.
    ‘But you could ask?’
    ‘I need to take this to DCI Page first.’ Clarke was digging in
    her pocket for her phone.
    ‘I don’t want any more cops in here,’ Cafferty warned her.
    ‘You, I’ll just about tolerate.’
    ‘And John?’
    Cafferty stared at Rebus. ‘For now, I suppose,’ he conceded.
    ‘Well, I need to speak to Page anyway.’ Clarke got to her
    feet and moved towards the door, making the call as she went.
    Cafferty stood up and found himself face to face with Rebus.
    ‘The crew outside,’ Rebus said. ‘Two-by-two, twelve-hour
    shifts . . .’
    ‘What about them?’
    ‘Where did they come from?’
    ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘I mean, are they part of Andrew Goodman’s show?’
    ‘What does it matter?’

    ‘Just that Goodman’s been in at least one meeting with the
    Starks since they hit town.’
    ‘I know – Andrew told me. He’s a good guy.’
    ‘And did Andrew happen to say what the Starks wanted
    from him?’
    ‘A guy from the Highlands called Hamish Wright was
    mentioned, but only in passing. Seemed it wasn’t him they were
    looking for so much as something he’s got hidden away
    somewhere.’
    ‘And we both know what that will be.’
    ‘Thing is, we’re talking a commodity of some considerable
    bulk.’
    ‘Not easy to hide?’
    ‘And difficult to move without someone noticing. No way
    Wright can use one of his own lorries.’
    ‘So he’ll be in touch with other hauliers maybe?’
    ‘If he feels he needs to move it. Then again, it may be
    stowed away somewhere he reckons no one can find it.’
    ‘Would he know people in the city?’
    ‘I’d say so.’
    ‘You wouldn’t be one of them?’
    ‘I’m not of a mind to get into that sort of discussion.’
    ‘Which sort of answers my question. Do you know where
    Hamish Wright is?’
    ‘I’d be surprised if he’s anywhere – anywhere above ground,
    that is.’
    Rebus’s eyes narrowed. ‘Then why are the Starks looking
    for him?’
    ‘What makes you think they are?’
    ‘What do you mean?’ But Cafferty just shook his head and
    placed a hand on Rebus’s shoulder, steering him towards the

    door. ‘How much of this did you already know when Fox and I
    spoke to you?’
    ‘You worried I’m not being honest with you, John?’
    ‘I suppose there’s a first time for everything.’
    ‘To put your mind at rest, I only heard from Goodman after
    you and I had our little chinwag in the Golden Rule.’
    ‘I’ll get you to a safe house,’ Rebus said, stopping just inside
    the front door. ‘It’s yours as soon as you tell me what’s really
    going on.’
    ‘Go find a dominoes game or something. If I want advice on
    protection, I’ll consult the police rather than a pensioner.’
    ‘I wish