Dorothy wished she’d gone to visit the woman, maybe face-to-face would get a better result. The address was one of the new apartments on Sandpiper Road, no sense of community, thrown up next to holiday rentals and cheap hotels, spread amongst waste ground and disused dockland on the edge of Leith. She could imagine how you might feel isolated, stuck there all day.

‘My name is Dorothy Skelf, are you Lorna Daniels?’

‘Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.’

‘I was given your number by Thomas Olsson at the Pleasance Police Station.’

‘Thomas gave you my number?’

‘He’s a friend of mine and he thought you might be able to help me.’102

Dorothy heard a child whine in the background, something about a sweetie. The sound went muffled at the other end then came back.

‘How?’

‘Maybe it would be better if we met up?’

The woman laughed, an exasperated sound. ‘Do I sound like I’ve got time to meet you for a latte?’

‘I’m sorry, I’ll get to the point. It’s about a case you worked on.’

‘I’m not supposed to talk about that stuff.’

‘I understand, but this wouldn’t betray any confidences.’

‘Which case?’

‘A missing person, Simon Lawrence.’

A pause down the line. The sound of a cigarette being sucked?

‘Doesn’t ring any bells, when was this?’

‘July 2010.’

This time the laugh was full-throated. Outside Dorothy’s window a dog had leapt into the air and intercepted the Frisbee and was teasing the students with it, darting out of reach.

‘Christ, that’s ten years ago,’ Lorna said.

‘I realise that, but you’d be doing me a favour if you could remember something, anything at all.’

‘Lady, I can’t remember what I was doing two hours ago, motherhood brain melt. There’s no way I remember a missing-person case from a decade ago.’

Schrödinger sloped into the room and wandered around the far wall, not looking at Dorothy. She watched him pace across the floor.

‘He had a pregnant wife, Rebecca, lived in Craigentinny.’

‘What was your name again?’

‘Dorothy Skelf.’

Another pause, another drag on the cigarette.

‘As in the undertakers?’ Lorna said eventually.

‘That’s right,’ Dorothy said. Schrödinger was at the bay window now, head still turned away as if hiding something. ‘Simon Lawrence used to work here.’103

‘I remember.’

Schrödinger turned. He had something in his mouth. He took a few steps forwards and placed it at Dorothy’s feet. Another bird, goddamn it. This time a sparrow, one of the knot that flurried around the feeders in the garden. They were placed high so he couldn’t reach them, but this one must’ve been a straggler.

Dorothy stuck out her foot to scoot the cat away, and he slunk behind a chair, turned and stared at her.

‘What exactly do you remember?’ she said.

‘The wife was up to high doh about it.’