He could sense that a death had taken place here. The whole aura had changed. It was the same out on the stairwell. He reckoned a few flats might end up going on the market, neighbours not happy sharing their lives with a news story. The room was freezing, the heating switched off – probably the landlord’s doing, eager to save a few quid. The floorboards creaked under his weight, and he thought about the downstairs neighbours. Had they heard anything? A body dropping to the ground, perhaps? Well, this was Edinburgh; nobody wanted trouble or to make a fuss. The shutters had been closed across the large window, deepening the gloom. Had they been open the night Francis had died? The building across the street looked lived in, making for yet more potential witnesses. He’d not bothered trying to access the statements gathered so far, knowing how it would look to the MIT if he were rumbled.

Interviews with the Crew would be in the offing, of course. Stories would need to be got straight.

His phone was vibrating, so he lifted it to his face.

‘I have to take this,’ he said, heading for the landing. ‘You stay here, maybe say a few words.’

‘Like what?’

Driscoll closed the door after him, pressing the phone to his ear as he descended half a flight. He took up a position that would alert him if Agnew emerged from the flat.

‘What’s up, Alan?’ he said.

‘You tell me, son. What the hell have you gone and done?’

‘Absolutely bloody nothing. How about you?’

‘That’s not the tone you should be using, Rob. I’m not the one Francis texted shortly before his demise – think MIT won’t pick up on that?’

‘Everything deleted, like you said.’

‘Just because it’s gone from your phone doesn’t mean it’s gone from Francis’s. We need another pow-wow.’

‘After getting papped at the last one?’

‘If I ever get my hands on whoever did that …’ Driscoll heard Fleck expel a breath.

‘Let’s leave the pow-wow one more day, wait to see if they come for us.’

‘Oh, they’re coming for you.’

‘Not “you”, Alan, us. You need to understand that.’

‘This is why we need a meeting. Has to be somewhere new, though.’

‘Why? I reckon the cat’s out of the bag there. Another photo would be stale news. Besides, we don’t have anything to hide, do we?’

‘I know I don’t.’

‘Unlike our anonymous blogger.’

‘Can we find out who it is?’

‘I’m working on it.’

Fleck seemed to calm. ‘You at work?’

‘In the office, aye.’ He checked that Agnew was still out of earshot.

‘Meet tomorrow, then?’

‘Same time, same place. Maybe I’ll send the Courant an invite. Set a trap and ID them.’

‘Not the worst idea you’ve ever had.’