Court Seven was almost empty when I walked in. Directly underneath the judge’s bench is known as the well of the court. In the well, there is a large table. The clerk sits at the top of it, the prosecutor sits on the judge’s right-hand side and the defence team sit on the left. The clerk was Alex Grant, a guy I’d always thought I might have a sneaky wee go at–if it wasn’t for Joe. His body was thin but muscular, his face was thin but chiselled; everything was aesthetically pleasing, actually, which was a rarity in the Scottish legal world. The clerk was already in position, sorting through his papers from the morning court, and Agnes Sampson was appearing alone without the aid of a trainee. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen her in a courtroom.

The door of the court opened and in walked Dr Cornwell and Bancho. I had been expecting Bancho, but the presence of the psychiatrist surprised me. Bancho walked towards the well of the court. Cornwell hung around at the doorway, looking as tired and worried as I felt.

‘What’s he doing here?’ I asked Bancho, jerking my thumb towards the psychiatrist.

‘I wasn’t taking any chances. I thought you might ask for bail. Dr Cornwell will be able to give a report on Marshall’s mental state.’

I glanced over my shoulder at him. His glasses were taped together. They must have been broken in the scuffle with my client, and his knuckles were skinned. Graham Marshall looked in better shape than Gerry Cornwell.

‘It’s a murder charge, Bancho, it’s highly unlikely I would get bail. And in any event, I can’t ask for it at the first hearing.’ I poked his shoulder. ‘You should know that.’

He sighed. ‘The Met contacted me about Renee Smith’s death; in view of the circumstances I thought you might push it. I understand you and Glasgow Joe paid Renee a visit yesterday?’ I nodded. ‘The Met wants me to take a statement then…one of their officers will fly up to interview you.’

‘Am I a suspect?’ I asked.

‘They don’t have any leads, so what do you think?’

‘I think we should find Sam Jones. All the evidence is pointing to her,’ I said.

Bancho screwed up his face and looked as though he wanted to tell me to go and boil my head. ‘I met Sam Jones, don’t forget. There’s no way she’s crooked.’

‘Someone is setting up my client,’ I said.

‘Says who? Graham Marshall? No one is going to believe him. The official line is the murder of Renee Smith is unrelated to the Cupid murders in Edinburgh.’

‘Except Renee’s heart was removed.’