Rebus looked at him above the rim of the glass.

‘There’s a team on its way,’ Jack explained. ‘To look the place over. Chick said he’d tell you.’

‘He told me. No search warrant, I suppose?’

‘If you want it, we can get one. But if I were you, I’d just sit back and let it happen – quick and painless. Plus … if anything ever comes to court, you’ll have the prosecution on a technicality.’

Rebus smiled. ‘Are you on my side, Jack?’ Jack sat down again, but didn’t say anything. ‘You told Ancram I’d phoned you, didn’t you?’

Jack shook his head. ‘I kept my trap shut when maybe I shouldn’t.’ He sat forward. ‘Chick knows we go back, you and me, that’s why I’m here.’

‘I don’t get it.’

‘It’s a loyalty thing, he’s testing my loyalty to him, pitting the past – that’s you and me – against my future.’

‘And how loyal are you, Jack?’

‘Don’t push it.’

Rebus drained his glass. ‘This is going to be an interesting few days. What happens if I get lucky winching? Are you going to want to hide beneath the bed, like a piss-pot or the fucking bogeyman?’

‘John, don’t get —’

But Rebus was on his feet. ‘This is my home, for Christ’s sake! The one place I can hide from all the shite flying around out there! Am I supposed to just sit here and take it? You standing guard, forensics sniffing around like mongrels at a lamp-post – am I supposed to sit here and let you get on with it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well fuck that, Jack, and fuck you, too.’ The doorbell rang. ‘You get it,’ Rebus said. ‘They’re your dogs.’

Jack looked hurt as he made for the door. Rebus went into the hall, grabbed his case and took it into his bedroom. He threw it on the bed and opened it. Whoever had packed it had just stuffed everything in, clean and dirty. The whole lot would have to go to the launderette. He lifted out his wash-bag. There was a note folded below it. It told him that ‘certain items of clothing’ had been held back by Grampian Police for forensic ‘exploration’. Rebus looked: his grass-stained trousers and torn shirt from the night he’d been attacked, they were missing. Grogan was having them tested, just in case Rebus had killed Vanessa Holden. Fuck him, fuck them all. Fuck the whole fucking lot of them. Rebus threw the open case across the room, just as Jack came to the doorway.

‘John, they say they won’t be long.’

‘Tell them to take as long as they like.’

‘And tomorrow morning there’ll be blood tests and a saliva sample.’

‘I’ll have no trouble with the latter. Just stand Ancram in front of me.’

‘He didn’t ask for this job, you know.’

‘Fuck off, Jack.’

‘I wish I could.’

Rebus pushed past him into the hall. He glanced into the living room. There were men in there, some of them he knew, all dressed in white boilersuits and polythene gloves. They were lifting the cushions from his sofa, ruffling the pages of his books. They didn’t look like they were enjoying it: small consolation. It made sense that Ancram would use local people: easier than hauling a consignment from weegie-land. The one crouching in front of the corner cupboard got up, turned. Their eyes met.