‘He seems to be taking up a lot of your time.’ Esson glanced in Fox’s direction so her meaning was clear.

‘Plenty to keep you busy, Christine – and a heap more about to land on our desks.’ Clarke held up her copy of the printout. ‘What do you make of it?’

‘Driscoll seemed pretty open when we met him, comparatively speaking. But this definitely needs explaining. DCI’s already told Jason and Colin to start talking to people listed as recent calls.’

‘Any contact with the lettings agency?’

‘Should there be?’ Esson watched as Clarke shrugged. ‘The suit who paid us a visit this morning, who was he?’

‘Gartcosh. Just had some background to offer.’

‘Something that’s got you interested in QC Lettings?’

‘Daughter of the owners discovered the body – wouldn’t you say that’s a bit of a coincidence?’

‘I sense there’s more.’

‘I’m sworn to secrecy, Christine.’

‘So there is something.’

‘Soon as I can tell you, I will, I promise.’

‘And to think you were accusing me of getting too close to Malcolm Fox.’

Clarke opened her mouth to respond, but Esson had put her head down, concentrating on her keyboard.

Tess Leighton noticed something was off, but that didn’t stop her approaching, eyes on her phone. ‘The Courant has got a quote from an unnamed source at Tynecastle,’ she announced. ‘Apparently we’re conducting a witch-hunt that won’t end until “policing itself and everything that underpins it becomes untenable, after which all that awaits society is anarchy, full stop”.’ She looked up. ‘It’s almost as if they know we’re coming for them.’

‘It almost is.’ Clarke’s eyes moved to where King and Ritchie were hunched at their desks, jackets off, phones pressed to their ears. Noting her interest, Colin King placed his hand over his phone and mouthed something neither Clarke nor Leighton could catch. He resorted to the pad of A4 paper in front of him, writing something and then lifting it so they could see the capitalised message:

THEY’RE ALL TYNECASTLE!

Meaning every call and text to Haggard’s phone.

‘He had them rattled, didn’t he?’ Leighton commented.

‘He really did,’ Clarke agreed.

Leighton was looking at Clarke’s monitor. ‘What’s that?’

‘I finally worked out how to transfer stuff from a phone.’ Clarke started the video. ‘It’s Haggard forcing his way into his sister-in-law’s house.’ She turned the volume up. The two detectives watched the confrontation.

‘And he’s the reason we’re now putting in a hard shift?’ Leighton enquired.

Malcolm Fox, having weaved between the various desks, joined them.

‘Couple of hours for the Complaints stuff,’ he informed Clarke.

‘Fast work, Malcolm.’

‘Some of it will be sent to my computer – and only my computer. But there are box files too. To be kept under lock and key and not leave this office.’

‘Understood. And thanks again.’