Renee rubbed her fingers over her face. ‘Swear to me you’ll never say where you heard this.’ I nodded but it wasn’t good enough. Renee held out her pinkie. ‘You are joking,’ I said. But she wasn’t, so I entwined my pinkie round Renee’s and made a promise to keep her secrets. Once it was done she looked satisfied. ‘Have you heard of a police officer named Sam Jones? She was a constable when we were arrested, but she’s been promoted since then, I’ve heard.’

‘Yes, Renee, I’ve heard of Sam–but she’s missing, and they suspect Kevin has murdered her too.’ Renee started to laugh, a long, hysterical belly-aching laugh. ‘She’s a sly cow that one.’ She bit her bottom lip. ‘No one has found Sam’s body? You found all the other bodies, didn’t you? So, where’s hers?’ She tapped the side of her nose and it pained me with a thought of Lavender–I wanted to be home, away from all of this.

‘Listen to me, lady lawyer–find Sam Jones and you’ll find your murderer.’

Chapter Fifty-Four

As we flew into Edinburgh Airport, the city and its lights sparkled below me like a fairy town welcoming me home. All I wanted was bed. As we turned left over the River Forth I was too sleep-deprived to notice the cantilevered grandeur of the rail bridge or the snake of traffic still making its way across the Forth Road Bridge. Glasgow Joe had wrapped his arms around me, and asked the stewardess for a pillow. He didn’t mind that I snored or dribbled on his jacket. I woke up feeling hellish, my mouth dry and sour. I knew my breath wouldn’t pass the sniff test, but Joe still looked at me as if he had won the prize draw. We had walked on the plane without bags, so we were able to walk off and hit the taxi queue first.

Glasgow Joe was anxious to discuss the case. He loved the chance to interfere and do investigative work. He had a talent for it because of his contacts in the criminal fraternity but, at least this time, he was on my side.

The cabbie was unnaturally silent and seemed unconcerned when Joe closed the glass partition to give us privacy. ‘So, what do you think?’ He sat forward on the edge of his seat and looked into my eyes. ‘Is Sam Jones setting up Marshall because of the hatred she still has for Kevin Milne?’ I leaned my head against the cold taxi window and stared out. Maybe if I feigned disinterest he would let me sleep. We drove towards Princes Street, past the private hospital where Marshall sometimes worked. ‘They’re the same person, Joe. Kevin Milne’s crimes are Graham Marshall’s–but everyone is entitled to a second chance. Aren’t they?’