‘Bugger,’ she said, as DCI Trask emerged from her office to find herself surrounded by her team, each of them wanting to be the first with the news.

28

Rebus signalled off Calder Road and drove into Burnhill. He couldn’t see any bicycle sentinels or doorstep deliveries, just a couple of dog-walkers and half a dozen kids playing football on the adjacent stretch of parkland. Nobody seemed interested in his ­arrival, which was fine by him. He did a slow circuit of the terraces and the low-rise blocks. A few mums had gathered at the gates to a nursery, their strollers parked, gossip being shared. Most of them were dressed for the weather, one or two still wearing face masks. When one toddler waddled towards the road, a barked instruction turned the child to stone. Rebus, already slowed to a crawl, smiled at the stunned face as he passed.

Reassured that the coast was as clear as it could be, he drove past the top of the lane and studied the lock-ups. Tommy Oram’s was closed tight, but the next one along showed signs of activity.

‘Shite,’ he muttered to himself. He brought the Saab to a stop and got out, walking down the lane with hands in pockets. As he came level with the wide-open doors, he looked in. A car had been jacked up and a man’s feet were protruding from beneath it.

‘Help ye?’ a disembodied voice said.

‘Nice motor,’ Rebus answered. ‘Sierra Cosworth?’

‘You know your stuff.’

‘Used to see a lot of them in the eighties.’

‘Which is where most of them stayed.’ The man rolled himself out but remained prone on the trolley. He wore a blue boiler suit, a spanner in one hand and smudges of grease on his face. ‘Not seen you before.’

‘I’m a mate of Tommy’s.’

‘He was here earlier, probably at work now.’

‘Probably,’ Rebus agreed. ‘Car needs a bit of TLC, eh?’

‘Not much gets past you. Few more hours should do it.’

‘Big job?’

‘She’ll be brand new once I’m done.’ He paused. ‘I might be willing to sell if you’re in the market.’

‘I’ll think about it. Will you be here tonight?’ The man shook his head. ‘Tomorrow daytime?’

‘I’ve got work tomorrow.’

‘I’ll maybe leave you a note then, next time I visit Tommy.’

The man rolled himself back under the Sierra. ‘If I see him, I’ll tell him you were here.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Or I would if I had your name.’

‘It’s Crosbie,’ Rebus obliged. ‘He’ll know who you mean.’

Laura Smith’s presence had been requested at Gayfield Square police station, where DC Ronnie Ogilvie was waiting. He seemed surprised when Siobhan Clarke arrived at the same time.

‘Been trying to reach you,’ she told him.

‘I was going to phone you back.’