In a House of Lies

‘I’m not a cop these days,’ Rebus intoned. ‘I’m a civilian — old, washed up. But I know plenty who are still on the force and if I say the word, they’ll come down on you hard. So you either tell me or you tell them. It doesn’t go any further, you’ve my word on that. But if I have to bring in CID, you might end up back inside. Clean your glasses and look in a mirror, you’ll see that would almost certainly be the death of you. So just for my own satisfaction — what do you know about Stuart Bloom?’

Huston’s voice when he eventually spoke was tremulous. ‘This stays between us?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘How do I know I can trust you?’

‘Because I’m giving you my word.’

Huston gave a long sigh and cleared his throat. ‘The film guy had come to Big Ger, wanting a favour.’

‘The film guy being...?’

‘Jackie Ness. He wanted to know if Big Ger knew anyone who could crack a safe. My name came up, so I met with the lad.’

‘The lad being Stuart Bloom?’

Huston managed a weak nod. ‘He wanted us to do an office belonging to Adrian Brand.’

‘And did you?’ Rebus had removed the mug from Huston’s shaking hand, placing it on the carpet next to the newspapers. There was another nod. ‘Just so I’m clear,’ Rebus said quietly, ‘with Stuart Bloom’s assistance, you broke in and emptied the safe?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where was this exactly?’

‘West End, just off Palmerston Place. Brand’s company office at the time.’

‘No alarm system?’

‘The lad dealt with it and got me in, good as gold.’

‘Cameras?’

‘Aye, but we wore balaclavas and kept our traps shut.’

‘And what did you take?’

Huston was shaking his head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You can do better than that, Larry.’

‘I really can’t. Once the safe was open, the lad stepped in, stuffed everything into a bag he’d brought with him.’

‘What sort of bag?’

‘Just from a supermarket. White polythene.’

‘You must have got a look, even for a few seconds?’

‘Folders. I don’t think there was anything except folders. No drugs, jewellery, cash. All I saw was cardboard files.’

‘So what happened after?’

‘I got paid.’ The answer came with an accompanying shrug.

‘You never saw Stuart Bloom again?’

‘No.’

‘What did Cafferty say?’

‘I never saw him. I was picked up by your lot a week later for a factory I’d done a few months before. Got three years nine months. Big Ger sent a few quid to the house, but he never came to see me.’

‘And when you got out?’

‘I think he’d decided I was a liability. World was changing anyway — more sophisticated alarms and too much CCTV. Jewellers’ shops were like Fort Knox.’ He reached down to retrieve his mug. ‘Got what you came for?’

‘To be honest, I didn’t know what I was going to get.’ Rebus had wandered over to the window and was staring out at the row of houses opposite.

‘It was bad enough when the lad went AWOL,’ Huston mused, swapping teacup for cigarette, ‘but then when they found him in his car...’

‘You think it’s why he was killed? The office break-in?’

‘It happened two nights before he disappeared — what do you think?’ He inhaled, exhaled, coughed again, eyes watering. ‘And I’ll tell you something else. Seemed to me it was all too easy. The safe was bog-standard, so much so I almost felt insulted — an old Sargent and Greenleaf, tumbler combination. Plus an alarm system that was a cinch to breach.’

‘Meaning what?’

Huston gave another shrug. ‘I thought at first it must be a trap. The lad wasn’t exactly an expert — he said everything he knew about disarming an alarm he got from the internet — but he got us in there almost as if the place had been left unlocked and ready to plunder.’

Rebus thought for a moment. ‘It was never reported, was it?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘And this was just two nights before Stuart Bloom disappeared?’

Huston nodded slowly. ‘Had to be Brand who got to him. I reckoned if the lad talked, I’d be in for a doing, too. That jail cell almost came as a relief.’