At nine forty-five, Edinburgh Sheriff Court was teeming with life, and all of it, especially the lawyers, looked like creatures found in the slime at the bottom of a pond. The big Mercedes sports cars had taken up all the parking spots in Chambers Street when I arrived, but I managed to find a space for the Fat Boy in a solo motorcycle bay further up the road. As usual when I roared up outside the court on the Harley we attracted attention. I knew I was in trouble when I saw the CNN van with the satellite dish on top. I had never seen such media interest before and it could only mean one thing–the papers had discovered Marshall’s true identity.

A woman from Sky News was racing down the street towards me; her hair and make-up was media ready, which was more than could be said for mine. I tried to remember if I had even brushed my teeth that morning.

I’d had very little sleep, even with Joe holding me tight all night. Our bodies had fallen together in a way that we both recognized and, even although there had been no sex, we both knew that we were slowly moving towards what had always been inevitable. After the shock of Renee’s murder, I needed to be close to him. There was no doubt in my mind or in Lola’s that I had led the killer straight to Renee’s door. And we had promised her she would be safe. The murderer had made me break my promise, and I didn’t like that, I didn’t like it at all. I tried to act nonchalant and carried on removing the files from the bike. The reporter stuck a hairy microphone in my face. ‘Sky News,’ she said in a perfect accent. I held the files closely and started to march up the street towards the court. She ran after me and, out of breath, began to speak. ‘I understand from a source inside Lothian and Borders police that Kevin Milne, the killer of Matthew Cook, is appearing in court today.’