Jack thought about it. ‘You want them turning on each other?’ He nodded. ‘Never were one to play by the book, were you? The note was from Eve?’ Rebus nodded. ‘And you thought you’d leave me out. Know something? When I saw the keys were gone, I was so angry, I almost said “Stuff it, let him do what he wants, it’s his neck”.’

‘It almost was.’

‘You’re a stupid bastard.’

‘Years of dedicated practice, Jack. Can you stop and untie me?’

‘I like you better tied up. Casualty or a doctor call-out?’

‘I’ll be fine.’ The nosebleed had already stopped; there was no pain from the dead tooth.

‘So what did you do there?’

‘I fed Fuller a line, and I found out Hayden Fletcher hired Allan Mitchison’s killer.’

‘And you’re telling me there wasn’t an easier way?’ Jack shook his head slowly. ‘If I live to be a hundred, I swear I’ll never understand you.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ Rebus said, leaning his head back against the seat.

Back at the hotel, they decided it was time to leave Aberdeen. Rebus had a bath first, and Jack checked his injuries.

‘Strictly an amateur sadist, our Mr Fuller.’

‘He did apologise at the start.’ Rebus checked his gap-toothed smile in the mirror.

Every bit of his body ached, but he’d live, and he didn’t need a doctor to agree with him. They loaded the car, signed out without fuss, and got back on the road.

‘What an end to our holidays,’ Jack commented. But his audience of one was already asleep.

When he had narrowed the list to four individuals, four companies, it was time to use the ‘key’ – Vanessa Holden herself.

More of the suspects had turned out to be too old, or not right in some other way: one, first name Alex, had turned out to be a woman.

Bible John made the call from his own office, door closed. He had his notepad in front of him. Four companies, four individuals.

The call was to Vanessa Holden’s company. A receptionist answered.

‘Hello,’ he told her, ‘Queen Street CID here, Detective Sergeant Collier. General question: I was wondering if you’d ever undertaken any work for Eskflo Fabrication?’

‘Eskflo?’ The receptionist sounded dubious. ‘Let me put you through to Mr Westerman.’

Bible John wrote the name on his notepad, circled it. When Westerman answered, he repeated his question.

‘Is this to do with Vanessa?’ the man asked.

‘No, sir, though I was sorry to hear about Ms Holden. You have my deepest sympathies – same goes for everyone here.’ He looked around the walls of his office. ‘And I’m sorry to have to call at such a distressing time.’

‘Thank you, Detective Sergeant. It’s been a great shock.’

‘Of course, and rest assured, we’re following up several lines of inquiry concerning Ms Holden. But my present request concerns a suspected fraud.’

‘Fraud?’

‘Nothing to do with yourselves, Mr Westerman, but we’re investigating several companies.’