‘Doesn’t matter what I want, it’s there in black and white. I lost count of how many times John Rebus’s name came up, usually in cahoots with a sergeant called Alan Fleck.’

‘I’ve heard of him.’ Clarke lifted her drink to her lips. The orange juice tasted cheap, not helped by the addition of three ice cubes. But then no matter how cheap the juice, ice was cheaper. ‘John never actually worked at Tynecastle, though, right? So he was never a member of the Crew?’

‘Honorary status. He was still their go-to guy.’

‘For what exactly?’

‘If they needed a message passed on to Cafferty or one of the other thugs John seems to have enjoyed rubbing shoulders with.’ Fox paused. ‘You can’t tell me that all of this is coming as news to you. Those files show you covering Rebus’s arse more than once when the two of you worked together.’ He paused again, but Clarke wasn’t minded to add or admit anything. ‘Look, there’s something I want to tell you …’

‘I’m listening.’

He leaned in further towards her. ‘It’s Fleck I want. Every time we tried in my Complaints days, he somehow wriggled free. So for me it’s not strictly about deflecting attention from anything currently happening.’ He paused. ‘If the ACC knew this, she’d probably pull me from the case. See, it doesn’t really bother me if the walls of Tynecastle come tumbling down.’

‘And how about John?’

Fox shrugged. ‘Difficult to take Fleck down without Rebus falling too. Too much shared history.’

‘Then we might have a problem.’

‘Despite which, I get the feeling it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, the way this stuff keeps being covered up year after year, decade after decade. Tell me I’m wrong.’

Clarke concentrated on her drink again, determined not to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. She noticed that someone had joined DJ Gabz behind the decks. Looked like one of the doormen. His mouth was close to her ear, telling her something. She nodded before slipping her headphones back on and getting back to her job, the visitor disappearing into the darkness around her. The same doorman appeared in the main room a few moments later, but lingered just long enough to satisfy himself that there was no trouble in the offing. The soundtrack had shifted gears, becoming louder and edgier, the students growing ever more animated.

‘Is this techno?’ Fox asked, a brief look of pain crossing his face.