Somewhere between Glasgow and Fort William, a beat was skipped. “Aye. How’d you know that?” Logan asked.

“I think… I think that’s her. I think this is it, sir!”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked.

“Jazmin McAllister’s on our other list.”

“What other list?”

Sinead spun in her chair to face the printout on her desk. It was her share of the call-sheet they’d divided up between them.

“It can’t be a coincidence,” she muttered. “No way. That’s got to be connected.”

“Sinead!” Logan snapped. “What the hell are you banging on about? What other list?”

The DC picked up the printout and scanned it until she found what she was looking for. There, second from the bottom, was the name that Logan had just given her.

Jazmin McAllister.

“The list we got from Raigmore. From the Maternity Unit,” Sinead explained into the phone. “Jazmin McAllister’s on it, sir,” she continued, her excitement at the find rising. “Jazmin McAllister had a baby two weeks ago!”

* * *

Logan’s BMW sat in the taxi rank by the door of Queen Street Station, much to the annoyance of the drivers of the actual taxis vying for space.

There had been some honking of horns when he’d pulled in, and a couple of the bolder drivers had come over to challenge him. A quick flash of the warrant card and one of his less palatable looks, however, had soon sent them back to their cabs.

They were still visibly seething, though, some of their glares so intense Logan was convinced they’d be putting dings in the Beamer’s paintwork.

“Right, you fit?” Logan asked, as Tyler scrunched up his empty crisp bag. “Train’s in ten minutes. You need to go and get a ticket.”

“Or… how about this, boss?” Tyler began, summoning the smile he generally reserved for trying to charm old ladies into making statements.

“No,” Logan said, shutting him down. “You’re getting on that train and going home.”

“Aye, but listen, boss. I was thinking,” Tyler said, pressing on regardless. “What if I just stayed tonight, and got the early train tomorrow? I could be in the Fort by lunchtime.”

“Or you could be there in four hours,” Logan said. He unclipped Tyler’s seatbelt for him. “Come on, fuck off.”

“I don’t like the thought of you going to talk to this Frankie guy on your own,” Tyler said. “You should have someone with you, in case things get out of hand.”

“And you think you’re going to be of help in that situation, do you?” Logan asked.

“Maybe. Aye! I mean, better than you being on your own,” Tyler insisted.

“You know they’ve got polis in Glasgow, aye?” replied the DCI. “You know it’s no’ just you and me?”