‘Could just be that someone saw the boxes being hauled in here from the van and thought it worth telling the press?’

‘Whichever way it happened, it means the media know our magnifying glass is on Tynecastle. Speaking of which, the schoolkid also mentioned a stooshie last night on Palmerston Place, Tynecastle officers involved.’ She looked to the two detectives for clarification, but they just shrugged. Trask rubbed a hand across her forehead. ‘Have we finished interviewing them all yet?’

‘Few stragglers to pick up,’ Clarke admitted. ‘Currently off with COVID.’

‘Have any of these chats taken us a single step forward?’

‘There’s a lot still to do,’ Fox said. ‘Mobile phones, home com­puters—’

‘That’s why I came in, actually,’ Clarke interrupted. ‘Chris Agnew, I just wondered if we could go a little deeper on him.’

‘Any particular reason why?’

‘Just a whisper that he might have had some history with the deceased.’

‘What kind of history?’

Clarke shrugged. ‘A bit of bad blood.’

Trask looked across her desk again. ‘Has his phone been checked?’

‘Plenty opportunity to delete anything he didn’t want us seeing,’ Fox added. ‘Same goes for all of them. It’s why we’ve asked their service providers for call records. It might not tell us much, but it’s probably worth a punt.’

‘Retrieval can take time, though,’ Clarke said, ‘which is why I thought a word from the ACC’s office might work as a booster.’

‘I can certainly make the call,’ Trask said. ‘Anything to move this bloody case along. Speaking of which, have we got any whiff of his movements after he got out of that taxi?’

‘We’ve put word out to the cab firms,’ Clarke assured her. ‘I’m confident we’ll fill in the gaps.’

‘Well, that’s certainly a load off my mind.’ Trask gestured for them to leave.

‘Should I close the door after us?’ Fox asked.

‘You definitely bloody should,’ she replied.

By the time he caught up with Clarke, she was running a Google check on Palmerston Place. A couple of clicks later, they were staring at the shaky footage. At one point the camera zoomed in on Rob Driscoll’s furious, reddened face as he choked the life out of what appeared to be a helpless male approximately half his height and bulk.

‘Not great optics,’ Fox commented. As he walked back to his desk, Clarke called Laura Smith.

‘I’m gutted,’ Smith told her. ‘Half a dozen bloody bloggers got there first and my fire’s already yesterday’s news.’

‘Did you tell the Record that we had an MIT office full of Complaints files relating to Tynecastle?’

Smith paused for a moment. ‘I take it my question got asked,’ she eventually admitted. ‘I’d have been there myself if it wasn’t for this meeting with the insurers.’