Turnbull’s eyebrows rose perceptibly. ‘It’s an honour,’ he announced, his hand shooting out to meet Rebus’s.

‘Don’t believe half the stories,’ Rebus cautioned. ‘Any relation to Billy Turnbull?’

‘My grandad.’

‘Good copper in his day, took no nonsense.’

‘He still likes to go look at the police box at the foot of Canongate. Says he spent more time there than at home.’

‘Probably some truth in that.’

Rebus turned to Agnew. He hadn’t seen him in four or five years, during which time the younger man had added too much weight around the middle and his hairline had started receding. He’d never been blessed with the best skin, and his face was blotchy and had an unhealthy sheen to it. Even back when Rebus had seen him on a more regular basis, he’d wondered if Agnew’s nickname – ‘the Swordsman’ – was ironic. Alan Fleck had sworn, however, that he had a knack for finding willing women. Rebus saw no sign of a ring on his wedding finger.

‘Still with Rosie?’ he asked.

‘You’ve a good memory, but I chucked her three years back.’

‘Watch out for this one,’ Rebus advised Turnbull. ‘He’s better at chat-up lines than actual policing.’

Agnew’s mouth twitched, his eyes on the door Clarke had disappeared through. ‘I heard they’d brought in Rob, and even Alan – didn’t know their net was being cast any wider.’

‘Anyone and everyone, it seems like.’ Rebus looked at Turnbull. ‘You’ve been briefed, have you?’

‘We’ve had team talks,’ Agnew answered for Turnbull. ‘Deek here knows when to keep his gob shut.’

‘Same goes for you, I dare say, Chris.’ Rebus paused. ‘Sounds like the pair of you have already managed to rub DI Clarke up the wrong way, though – that’s not a great start.’

‘Just a bit of banter, John. Surprised she couldn’t take it on the chin.’

‘Maybe it wasn’t her chin you were trying to kiss?’

‘It’s true I’m not the fussiest, but she’s not particularly my type.’ Agnew rubbed the underside of his jaw. Rebus didn’t like to think what scenarios he was imagining.

‘She happens to be a friend of mine,’ he said coldly. ‘She’s also fucking good at her job. So if you’re thinking of employing a charm offensive, take it from me – she won’t be charmed, and she will find it offensive.’

‘Roger that,’ Agnew said, stiffening his shoulders.

‘I assume there’ll be a debrief this evening? You still using that pub on Fountainbridge?’ Rebus watched Agnew nod, then looked around as if taking in his surroundings. ‘Shame there are no chairs. If I know Siobhan Clarke, you’re in for a long stand.’

Agnew reached out and touched Rebus’s arm. ‘Word outside, John?’ After Rebus had nodded, he turned towards Turnbull. ‘Don’t let them take you upstairs without me.’

‘Understood.’