Set in Darkness: An Inspector Rebus Novel (Inspector Rebus Novels) by Rankin Ian

Author:Rankin, Ian [Rankin, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2010-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

IT’D be easier with the door open,” Ellen Wylie said. She meant that they’d have more room to move, and more light to work by.

“We’d freeze,” Grant Hood reminded her. “I’ve lost all feeling in my fingers as it is.”

They were inside the garage at the Coghill house. Another grey winter’s morning, bringing chill gusts which shook the metal up-and-over door. The ceiling light was dusty and dim, and only one small frosted window gave any natural light. Wylie held a pocket torch between her teeth as she searched. Hood had brought a plug-in lamp with him, the kind mechanics used in their work bays. But its light was too piercing, and it was awkward to manoeuvre. It sat clipped to a shelf, doing its best to throw shadows over most of the interior.

Wylie thought she’d come prepared: not just the torch, but flasks of hot soup and tea. She was wearing two pairs of wool socks under a pair of walking boots. Her chin was tucked into a scarf. The hood of her olive-green duffel coat was covering her head. Her ears were cold. Her knees were cold. The one-bar electric heater worked to a radius of about six inches.

“We’d get done a lot quicker with the door open,” she argued.

“Can’t you hear the wind? Everything would be blown halfway to the Pentlands.”

Mrs. Coghill had brought them out a pot of coffee and some biscuits. She seemed worried about them. Loo-breaks came as their only relief. Stepping into the centrally-heated house, there was a strong temptation to stay put. Grant had commented on the length of Ellen’s last trip to the house. She’d snapped back that she didn’t know she was being timed.

Then they’d drifted into this argument about the garage door.

“Anything?” he said now, for about the twentieth time.

“You’ll be the first to know,” she replied through gritted teeth. It was no good just ignoring his question: he’d go on asking, same as last time.

“This stuff’s all way too recent,” he complained, slapping a pile of paperwork down on to one of the tea chests. Unbalanced, the papers cascaded to the floor.

“Well, that’s one way to organise a search,” Wylie muttered. If they put the stuff outside when they’d finished with it, they’d have room to work in, and they’d know which files had been checked…And it would all blow away.

“I’m no expert,” Wylie said at last, stopping to pour out some tea from the flask, “but Coghill’s business affairs look pretty disorganised, if this lot’s anything to go by.”

“He got in trouble over his VAT returns,” Hood commented.

“And all the casual labour he employed.”

“Doesn’t make our job any easier.” Hood came over, accepted a cup from her with a nod of thanks. There was a knock, and someone came in.

“Any left in that?” Rebus asked, nodding towards the flask.

“Half a cup,” Wylie said. Rebus looked at the coffee cups, lifted the cleanest one and held it out while she poured.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

Hood made a point of closing the door.

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