Free Beggars Banquet by Ian Rankin

damp and cool. Leonard lit a cigarette for himself. He reckoned if it weren’t for the smell, this place would be a preferable alternative to the bar itself. Freezing in winter though. Bloody awful pub altogether, why didn’t they just leave? Well, as somebody had said, where else was there?
    The door creaked open and Matthew came in.
    ‘Matthew.’
    ‘Leonard.’
    The barman went to the urinal and unzipped himself loudly. His stare was high up the wall when he spoke.
    ‘They’re out for your blood.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Those three. Well, Paul specifically, but he’ll carry the other two. He’s buying, after all.’
    ‘What have I done?’
    ‘Come on, Leonard. Paul thinks you shopped Anthony.’
    ‘Then how come he’s the one with the money?’
    ‘If it was a cop payoff, he wouldn’t be flashing it about. Get out, right now. Just run for it.’
    ‘I’ve never run in my life.’
    ‘It’s up to you.’ Matthew zipped himself up. ‘But if I was in your shoes, I’d be offski.’
    ‘Where would I go?’
    ‘I don’t know.’ There was another creak as the door opened. Paul came in first. Philip and Thomas were right behind him. The door closed quietly after them.
    ‘What’s that you’re saying, Matthew?’
    ‘Nothing, Paul.’
    ‘You’re a great one for talking, aren’t you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘A gossip, a right wee sweetie-wife. Talking’s in your blood.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘No? This had the look of a snitches’ convention when I walked in. Guilty looks all round.’
    Matthew tried shaking his head.
    ‘Easy to confuse guilt with fear,’ Leonard said quietly.
    ‘Know where that money came from?’ Paul said. He wasn’t speaking to any one of them in particular. His eyes were on his shoes, examining the toes. ‘I’ll tell you, it came from Anthony.’
    ‘Anthony?’ Thomas said. ‘Why did he give you that much money? I mean, he’s usually tight . . . I mean, careful. He’s canny with his money.’ Thomas’s voice died away.
    Paul half turned his head and gave Thomas a smile full of sympathy.
    ‘You aren’t half going on tonight, Thomasino. Not like you at all. It’s not like him at all, is it, Philip?’
    Philip was wiping his face with the roller-towel. ‘No, it’s not,’ he said.
    ‘He’s usually quiet, isn’t he?’
    ‘Quiet as the grave,’ Philip agreed.
    ‘And even someone as thick as you sometimes appear to be, Thomas, has got to have an inkling why Anthony would give me a load of cash.’ He paused. ‘Don’t you want to know, Philip?’
    Philip shrugged. ‘You’ll tell us when you’re ready.’
    Paul was smiling. ‘You never change, Philip. Always the same face, the same voice. Nothing out of place. I bet you could do away with your granny and we’d never know about it, not by looking at you.’ He paused again. ‘Except tonight you’re sweating. Why is that?’
    ‘I think I’m coming down with something.’
    ‘Well, we’ll see to it you get a doctor when this is over.’ Matthew started to open the door. ‘ Shut it! ’ Paul smiled. ‘Don’t want to let the heat in, do we?’ He turned to Leonard. ‘Anthony gave me the money because he wants someone taken care of. Someone in particular. He told me once I was sure in my mind, I was to start earning the cash. That’s what Anthony told me.’
    ‘In other words, he doesn’t know?’
    ‘That’s right, Leonard.’
    ‘Funny he asked you.’
    ‘He trusts me.’
    ‘But what if he’s wrong, Paolo? What if he’s wrong about that?’ Leonard looked to the other men in the cramped space - Matthew, Philip, Thomas. ‘What if you grassed him up, and we found out?’ They’d all been looking nervous; now they were looking interested. ‘What would we do?’
    ‘Yes,’ Thomas said quietly, getting it, ‘what would we do?’
    Philip was nodding slowly, and Matthew straightened his back, adding an inch to his height.
    ‘There’s only one guilty party here, Leonard,’ Paul was saying.
    ‘You really believe