Cramond Village boasted a harbour and waterfront walks, but Cramond itself blended in with neighbouring Barnton. The Mackenzies lived on a wide street of large detached Edwardian houses, the very definition of Edinburgh des res. As Rebus approached the address, he caught sight of a small red sports car pulling out of the driveway ahead, two women in the front. He recognised Elizabeth Mackenzie and reckoned the younger passenger must be her daughter. He did a three-point turn and began to follow as they headed for Ferry Road, soon signalling to turn into a car park belonging to a gym and health club. As he stopped kerbside, he saw both women emerge, toting brightly coloured backpacks and rolled-up yoga mats. After a brief exchange the daughter headed inside, her mother lingering in order to spark up a cigarette. Despite the slate-grey sky, she wore large sunglasses and a short jacket that prized fashion over practicality. Leaving Brillo to peer through the window, Rebus got out of the Saab and headed towards her.

‘Mrs Mackenzie?’ he said. ‘My name’s John Rebus.’

‘I know who you are. I saw you at the office that day, asked Fraser about you when he got home.’ She narrowed her eyes behind the billowing smoke.

‘And I know you from when you were going out with Big Ger Cafferty. I was CID back then.’

‘He sometimes mentioned you – never in hugely flattering terms.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘You’re looking for someone, Fraser said.’

‘Jack Oram. One of Cafferty’s associates.’

‘Well after my time.’

‘You know who he is, though?’

‘Tommy’s father. Gaby told me.’

‘Your daughter?’ Rebus gestured towards the gym door.

‘Who’ll be waiting for me in the changing room.’ She studied what remained of her cigarette.

‘She and Tommy are friends, eh?’

‘Not the way you seem to be suggesting.’

‘Must have been weird, taking him on.’

‘Why?’

‘Big Ger having done away with his dad – that’s what a lot of people reckon happened. And QC used to be Big Ger’s business.’ Rebus paused in case she had anything to say, but she was managing to look increasingly bored. ‘Ever see him these days?’

‘Big Ger? Not in years.’

‘So you’ve not been in contact with him? Sent him anything?’ Rebus watched as she shook her head. ‘Not even a Get Well Soon card after the shooting?’

She slid her sunglasses down her nose with her free hand and looked at him over the rims, her eyes vividly blue. ‘You think Jack Oram’s still alive?’ she asked.

‘Witnesses confirm it.’

‘I can see how that might make you want to talk to Tommy, but I don’t see what my family’s got to do with any of it.’

‘Jack was seen entering or leaving your office.’