‘Then in the meantime, feel free to follow up with the cab company. And find out what’s taking Colin and Jason so long.’ She crooked a finger in Fox’s direction. ‘Malcolm, my office.’

Fox followed her in and closed the door, content to stay standing though she gestured towards a chair before sitting down across from him.

‘So where were you?’ she asked.

‘Brainstorming,’ he answered. ‘Thought getting out of the office for a breath of air might help.’

‘And did it?’

‘Not especially.’ He paused. ‘Was it wise to sit in on the interview with Fraser Mackenzie?’

‘Why?’

‘Geoff Dickinson seemed to think it was important Mackenzie not realise we’re on to him.’

She leaned a little further back in her chair and studied him. ‘This is first and foremost a murder inquiry. We owe it to Francis Haggard and his widow not to forget that.’

‘Absolutely, ma’am.’

‘Good. Now get the hell out of my office and try to avoid wandering off again.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Fox said. As he left, he thought to himself: that was twice he’d used the term ‘ma’am’ and twice she hadn’t said to call her Kathy. Seemed the honeymoon was over.

Which was fine by him.

Rebus took Brillo with him on the walk to Morningside Road. A wasted journey, it transpired, since the hardware shop didn’t quite have what he wanted. They suggested a DIY superstore at Newcraighall, so he untied Brillo from outside the shop and headed back to Marchmont. Before venturing out again, he sat in the living room getting his breath back. He realised his plan – such as it was – had more potential drawbacks than advantages. On the other hand, at least it would mean he was doing something, and if it worked, it would certainly shake things up.

When his phone rang, he saw that it was Laura Smith. He pressed the phone to his ear.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, ‘but thanks for asking.’

‘In your line of work, if you’re not making enemies, you’re doing something wrong.’ He paused. ‘Both your lines of work, I should say.’

‘Siobhan told you? Well, I don’t suppose it matters now that I’ve taken off my mask.’

‘Like Kendo Nagasaki.’

‘Who?’

‘Never mind. But just remember, the journalist shouldn’t become the story.’

‘Not so true these days.’

‘I hear you’re staying with Siobhan?’

‘Which is why I’ve just restocked her fridge. The woman seems to eat nothing but takeaway.’

‘How bad is your house?’

‘Getting rid of the smell might be the real challenge.’ She paused. ‘If you’d heard whispers, you’d have warned me, right?’

‘You think it was Tynecastle?’

‘They’re on my list.’

‘But they’re not the only names.’

‘Siobhan told you about James Pelham?’

‘And I told her that if someone had wanted to do you real harm, they’d have gone for stealth over spectacle.’