She reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer. Pills for Jim’s prostate, a book about the history of Bruntsfield with a receipt halfway as a bookmark. A book that would never be finished. A packet of tissues, a tape measure for some reason, and then what she was looking for, his comb. So old-fashioned, no one used combs anymore, but he had. She picked it up and squinted at it. Several short white hairs. She lifted them from the comb and placed them into a small plastic bag she’d brought from the kitchen and sealed it up.

She sat with the bag and the folded paper in her lap then she remembered something and reached into her pocket. The bone. The piece of Jim she was carrying with her all the time. The sharp edge was still darkened with a smudge of her own blood.

She reached for her phone.

‘Are you sure you want to do it this way?’ Thomas said.

Students and tourists slid up and down the street past their table outside Söderberg like twigs in a river after the first thaw of spring, full of promise but destined to be spat into the sea eventually. Dorothy watched them and tried to shake the feeling she was a malevolent spirit, bent on evil.

‘I need to know,’ she said.

Thomas held the two hair samples in his fingers like they were from a nuclear reactor meltdown.125

‘You know you can send off for a DNA testing kit, do this online.’

Dorothy ran her tongue around her top teeth. ‘I looked it up. They generally need mouth swabs, hair is much harder. I figured a proper forensics lab might do better.’

Thomas’s eyebrows went up. ‘And how am I supposed to swing this? We have procedures, resources have to be accounted for. It’s not like I just drop by the lab and bang these on the table.’

‘Sure, but someone of your stature.’ Dorothy smiled to let him know she was trailing sarcasm, but also buttering him up at the same time.

‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’ He rolled his eyes. He was still toying with the samples, rubbing them between his fingers. ‘Do you want to tell me what this is about?’

Dorothy took a sip of her tea. ‘I think you know what it’s about.’

Thomas nodded. ‘Jim and the money.’

He waited for her to speak but she didn’t.

‘How about you lay it out for me?’ Thomas said.

‘I don’t know.’

‘I might be able to help. A police officer of my stature.’