‘“Shortly before their banished colleague was killed in cold blood, Tynecastle’s finest were enjoying a night on the bevvy at their usual clubhouse. A sign on the door of the pub’s back room warned outsiders to steer well clear, but the mutterings from within didn’t sound exactly celebratory – what could have been worrying them? And what might they have been planning to do about it?”’

She handed the phone back to King.

‘Should I take it to the boss?’ he asked.

‘If a pat on the head’s important to you,’ Clarke answered. ‘Otherwise, it’s just a sideshow.’

He considered for a moment before stomping back to his desk.

‘Important to rid them of all that puppyish enthusiasm,’ Christine Esson commented. Then, to the waiting Ritchie, ‘Kettle needs filling.’

Clarke meantime was exiting the room. She headed down the stairs and out into the crisp cold air. Tapped at her phone and pressed it to her ear.

‘Thought I might be hearing from you,’ Laura Smith said.

‘I’m not a fan of one-way streets, Laura. How did you know where and when the Crew meets?’

‘Would it shock you to learn that you’re not the only member of Police Scotland who talks to me? Besides which, I thought it was common knowledge. They meet there regular as clockwork.’

‘Who was the other man with Rob Driscoll?’

‘You mean you’ve never bought a car from Alan Fleck? Big discounts for serving officers.’

‘Why was he there?’

‘You tell me.’

‘Anything you find out, you need to let me know.’

‘I assume you’ve been assigned a role? Who’s in charge? Anyone I’ll have heard of?’

‘Media office will give you what you need.’

‘Is that how we’re playing it?’

‘Until you give me good reason not to.’

‘I told you, Siobhan, the more clicks I get, the more revenue.’

‘It’s not going to win you any friends at Tynecastle – you need to be careful, Laura.’

Clarke ended the call and stood for a moment breathing deeply. When she looked up at the first-floor windows, Malcolm Fox was staring down at her. She kept her face impassive, but she knew Fox would be wondering. Pocketing her phone, she headed back indoors.

Rebus heard the news from a fellow-dog walker who knew he was ex-CID.

‘Something happening in Leith,’ the man said while his ­dachshund exchanged greetings with Brillo. ‘They’ve got Constitution Street cordoned off.’