Hamza rolled his mouse wheel, scrolling down the post to the comments. “No, sir. The fella who took the photo says he used to be a big fan, and tried to get Archie to pose for a selfie, but he was having none of it. Says he was quite abrupt with him.”

“Can you get onto him? The fella who took the photo?” Ben asked. He gestured vaguely at the computer with both hands. “On this thing, I mean? Can we track him down?”

“I could send him a message,” Hamza said.

“Good. Find out when he took the photo. Day and time. Talk to him and find out if there’s anything else he can tell us. Did anyone meet them off the train? Did they get in a taxi? That sort of thing. Get as much information off him as you can. Let’s get building up that picture. We’ve had a lucky break here, so let’s make the most of it. But go canny. We don’t want it getting out yet that he’s dead. The press don’t seem to have picked up on it yet, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.”

“I’ll be suitably vague,” Hamza said.

“Good lad,” Ben said. He checked his watch, then picked up his jacket. “Right, man the fort, will you, Sergeant? I need to nip out for a bit. Anything urgent comes in, give me a ring.”

“You’re, eh, you’re going out, sir?” Sinead asked.

“There a problem with that, Detective Constable?”

“No, sir. No, not at all. Just… if DCI Logan asks, where should we say you are?”

Ben wrestled his arms into his sleeves, zipped the jacket closed, then took his car keys from his pocket. “Out,” he said, then he winked, pushed open the Incident Room door, and left them all to it.

“Want me to follow him?” asked Dave, once the DI was out of earshot.

Sinead smiled. “Eh, no. You’re fine. Cheers, though.”

“Thank God for that,” Dave said. “You ever tried chasing a car in a wheelchair? Let me tell you, no’ as much fun as it sounds.”

“No, I’ll bet,” Sinead remarked. Her gaze lingered on the door for a moment, then she headed back to her desk, picked up her pen, and got to work.

* * *

There was nothing about the outside of Honey B’s that marked it as a gay bar. Anyone passing through Glasgow’s Merchant City area would likely assume it was just another trendy pub aimed at the young and successful.