‘I don’t know.’

‘Let’s grab a cup of tea and wait for him to get fed up.’

Rebus shook his head. He’d heard a noise from the top storey. ‘There’s a kid in there.’ He turned to the attendant. ‘Isn’t there?’

She nodded. Rebus turned to Jack. ‘Possible hostage. I’m going in. Stay out here, tell me where Shankley is.’

Rebus took off his jacket and went in.

The rollers were the first obstacle. He was too big to squeeze through, but managed to push his way through the gap between them and the side netting. He remembered his SAS training: assault courses you wouldn’t believe. Kept going. A pool of coloured plastic balls to wade through, and then a tube curving upwards, leading to the first floor. A slide nearby – he climbed that. Through the netting he could see Jack, pointing up and towards the far corner. Rebus stayed in a crouch, looked around. Punch-bags, a net across a yawning gap, a cylinder to crawl through … more slides and climbing-ropes. There: far corner, wondering what to do next. Hank Shankley. People in the café were watching, no longer interested in swimming. One floor further up was the kid. Rebus had to get there before Shankley; either that or grab Shankley first. Shankley didn’t know anyone was in here with him. Jack was shouting up, distracting him.

‘Hey, Hank, we can wait here all day! All night too if we have to! Come on out, we only want a chat! Hank, you look ridiculous in there. Maybe we’ll just padlock it shut and keep you for an exhibit.’

‘Shut up!’ Flecks of foam from Shankley’s mouth. Skinny, gaunt … Rebus knew it was crazy to worry about HIV, but found himself worrying anyway. Edinburgh was still HIV city. He was about fifteen feet from Shankley when he heard a swooshing sound coming towards him fast. He was passing the exit to one of the tubes when a pair of feet hit him, toppling him on to his side. A boy about eight years old stared at him.

‘You’re too big for in here, mister.’

Rebus got up, saw Shankley coming for them, and started dragging the kid by the scruff of his neck. He backed up to the slide, then dropped the boy down it. He was turning to confront Shankley when another foot hit him – the albino’s. He bounced off the mesh wall and tumbled down the padded slide. The boy was making his way to the entrance, where the attendant gestured for him to hurry. Shankley slid down, both fists out, and clubbed Rebus on the neck. He was sprinting for the kid, but the boy was already through the rollers. Rebus dived at Shankley, brought him down into the plastic balls, caught him with a decent punch. Shankley’s arms were tired from swimming; he pummelled Rebus’s sides, but it was like being hit by a rag doll. Rebus grabbed a ball, stuffed it into Shankley’s mouth, where it wedged, the lips taut and bloodless. Then he hit Shankley in the groin, twice, and that just about did it.