Tommy Oram was working on a flat just off Abbeyhill. The previous tenant had been a nightmare. It had taken a couple of Gaby’s men to convince the guy he wasn’t getting back in and he could whistle for his deposit. Just the two broken ribs he’d ended up with. Tommy had given the place a lick of paint and replaced some of the fittings. A rug covered some of the cigarette burns in the carpet – cheaper than replacing the whole thing – and the locks had been changed, just in case the nutjob had made copies of the keys. Earlier someone had buzzed the intercom looking for him. They’d sounded spaced out to Tommy, and he’d told them to get lost.

So when he heard the door to the flat begin to open, he feared the spaceman had somehow blagged his way in. He grabbed a screwdriver and walked into the hallway. Gaby Mackenzie was closing the door behind her.

‘I wanted to surprise you,’ she announced.

‘You’ve got a key?’

She dangled one from her finger. ‘Dad uses the same code on every key box – didn’t you know that?’ She walked towards him, following him into the living room. ‘It’s freezing in here.’

‘Cut off for non-payment. Be a few more days before it gets fixed.’

She was studying her surroundings. ‘Not too far from the club. Maybe it’ll come in handy, if you and Mum aren’t using it.’

‘Don’t start that again, Gaby.’ He had begun wiring a lamp to one of the walls.

‘Well, she’s hardly likely to be wooed by that lock-up of yours.’

‘Last time I checked, the lock-up was yours rather than mine.’

‘Your name on the lease, though – you must remember signing it. So if anything ever goes wrong …’

He stopped what he was doing and turned towards her. ‘What are you telling me?’

‘I’m just saying we all need to watch out.’ She paused. ‘I was sorry when my mum chased your dad away – I hope you know that. I told her she shouldn’t have.’ She did a circuit of the room and checked the view from the small double-glazed window, not that there was much to see other than an identical low-rise across the street.

Oram’s phone signalled an incoming message. He swore under his breath as he read it. When Gaby turned towards him, his eyes were burning into hers.

‘Did you know?’ he asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

‘Know what?’

‘The lock-up’s been turned over.’

‘What?’

‘They chased the guy the length of Calder Road, but he got away.’

‘Christ.’ Gaby dug her own phone out, switched its speaker on and placed a call, which was eventually answered. ‘About bloody time,’ she shouted into the device. ‘I’ve been taking cabs all morning – where the hell have you been?’