“What? Jesus. Not Donna and the girls?” Cowan asked. He sounded shocked, but it was hard to tell quite how genuine the reaction was. “Are they…?”

“Afraid so, aye,” Logan confirmed. “Someone tied them all up and killed them, one by one. What sort of twisted bastard would do something like that, do you think?”

“I take it this was the part where my name came up?” Shuggie guessed. “I can assure you, Jack, I had nothing to do with any of that. Archie was a business partner, but he was also a friend. We made good money for each other over the years. It was a good thing we had going. Even if it hadn’t been, as for thinking I’d hurt his wife and kids. That’s not my style, Jack.”

He took a sip of his coffee, grimaced at the taste, then picked up another couple of sugar sachets and began tipping them into the mug.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d say that, Shuggie,” Logan said. “I’m sure you’ve threatened to do damage to many’s a wean over the years.”

“Threatened, aye. Done? No. Cowards and animals go after weans, Jack. I don’t consider myself to be either.”

Logan brought his coffee to his mouth, caught the smell of it, then sat the cup back on the table without comment.

“He had a big bag of money with him,” he revealed, watching carefully to see what the response would be.

“Money? What, cash, you mean? How much?”

“We don’t know. Whoever killed them took it.”

Cowan frowned. “Then how do you know…?”

“Taxi driver and train ticket collector both saw it,” Logan said. “We’ve also got a photo of Archie with the bag. Blue holdall. Mean anything to you?”

Cowan shook his head. It was too definite a movement, Logan thought, too sure of itself. “No. Not a thing, I’m afraid.”

“He didn’t… Oh, I don’t know, let’s just say, for example, steal that money off you and promptly fuck off with it, then?”

“Ah. So, that’s where we’re at, is it?” Cowan asked. “You think I had him done in.”

“Did you?”

Cowan idly tapped a fingernail on the table, contemplating his response.

“It’s no’ a difficult question, Shuggie,” Logan prompted.

“Tam?”

Over by the bar, Tam raised his head from his newspaper. “Aye?

“Gonnae fuck off for five minutes?” Cowan said. “Take a walk around the block or something.”

Tam folded the newspaper closed and tucked it in at the side of the coffee machine without saying a word. Neither of the men at the table took their eyes off each other as the barman took his jacket from a peg, pulled it on, and headed outside via the pub’s back door.

Cowan waited for the door to thud closed before speaking again. “You mind if I smoke, Jack?”