Hide & Seek

‘Am I under arrest, John?’ McCall yelled, interrupting his song.

‘No, now shut up, for Christ’s sake!’

Rebus got into the car and started the engine. He glanced back one last time and saw Lanyon join Saiko on the doorstep. She seemed to be filling him in on events, and he was nodding. It was the first Rebus had seen of him since their confrontation in the library. He released the handbrake, pulled out of the parking space, and drove off.

‘Left here, then next right.’

Tommy McCall had had too much to drink, but his sense of direction seemed unimpaired. Yet Rebus had a strange feeling. .. .

‘Along to the end of this road, and it’s the last house on the corner.’

‘But this isn’t where you live,’ Rebus protested.

‘Quite correct, Inspector. This is where my brother lives. I thought we’d drop in for a nightcap.’

‘Jesus, Tommy, you can’t just -’

‘Rubbish. He’ll be delighted to see us.’

As Rebus pulled up in front of the house, he looked out of his side window and was relieved to see that Tony McCall’s living room was still illuminated. Suddenly, Tommy’s hand thrust past him and pushed down on the horn, sending a loud blare into the silent night. Rebus pushed the hand away, and Tommy fell back into his seat, but he’d done enough. The curtains twitched in the McCall living room, and a moment later a door to the side of the house opened and Tony McCall came out, glancing back nervously. Rebus wound down the window.

‘John?’ Tony McCall seemed anxious. ‘What’s the. matter?’

But before Rebus could explain, Tommy was out of the car and hugging his brother.

‘It’s my fault, Tony. All mine. I just wanted to see you, that’s all. Sorry though, sorry.’

Tony McCall took the situation in, glanced towards Rebus as if to say I don’t blame you, then turned to his brother.

‘Well, this is very thoughtful of you, Tommy. Long time no see. You’d better come in.’

Tommy McCall turned to Rebus. ‘See? I told you there’d be a welcome waiting for us at Tony’s house. Always a welcome at Tony’s.’

‘You’d better come in, too, John,’ said Tony.

Rebus nodded unhappily.

Tony directed them through the hall and into the living room. The carpet was thick and yielding underfoot, the furnishings looking like a showroom display. Rebus was afraid to sit, for fear of denting one of the puffed-up cushions. Tommy, however, collapsed immediately into a chair.

‘Where’s the wee ones?’ he said.

‘In bed,’ Tony answered, keeping his voice low.

‘Ach, wake them up then. Tell them their Uncle Tommy’s here.’

Tony ignored this. ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ he said.

Tommy’s eyes were already closing, his arms slumped either side of him on the arms of the chair. While Tony was in the kitchen, Rebus studied the room. There were ornaments everywhere: along the length of the mantelpiece, covering the available surfaces of the large wall-unit, arranged on the surface of the coffee table. Small plaster figurines, shimmering glass creations, holiday souvenirs. The arms and backs of chairs and sofa were protected by antimacassars. The whole room was busy and ilLat ease. Relaxation would be almost impossible. He began to understand now why Tony McCall had been out walking in Pilmuir on his day off.

A woman’s head peered round the door. Its lips were thin and straight, eyes alert but dark. She was staring at the slumbering figure of Tommy McCall, but caught sight of Rebus and prepared a kind of smile. The door opened a little wider, showing that she was wearing a dressing gown. A hand clutched this tight around her throat as she began to speak.

‘I’m Sheila, Tony’s wife.’

‘Yes, hello, John Rebus.’ Rebus made to stand, but a nervous hand fluttered him back down.

‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘Tony’s talked about you. You work together, don’t you?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Yes.’ Her attention was wandering, and she turned her gaze back to Tommy McCall. Her voice became like damp wallpaper. ‘Would you look at him. The successful brother. His own business, big house. Just look at him.’ She seemed about to launch into a speech on social injustice, but was interrupted by her husband, who was now squeezing past her carrying a tray.

‘No need for you to get up, love,’ he said.

‘I could hardly sleep through that horn blaring, could I?’ Her eyes now were on the tray. ‘You’ve forgotten the sugar,’ she said critically.

‘I don’t take sugar,’ Rebus said. Tony was pouring tea from the pot into two cups.

‘Milk first, Tony, then tea,’ she said, ignoring Rebus’s remark.

“It doesn’t make a blind bit of difference, Sheila,’ said Tony. He handed a cup to Rebus.

‘Thanks.’

She stood for a second or two watching the two men, then ran a hand down the front of her dressing gown.

‘Right then,’ she said. ‘Good night.’

‘Good night,’ concurred Rebus.

‘Try not to be too long, Tony.’

‘Right, Sheila.’

They listened, sipping tea, as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Then Tony McCall exhaled.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said.