All charges against Graham Marshall were, as was to be expected, dropped, and he walked out of Saughton Prison an innocent man. My former client certainly had access to his computer. He wrote to me within an hour of his release. It was an aggressive, threatening email, demanding the retainer back on the grounds that I had breached client confidentiality and completely disregarding his current free status. Two hours before I received his communication, I had written a cheque payable to him for the full amount, drawn on the firm’s account, but when I received that email, plus his threat to report me to the Law Society, I took great pleasure in tearing it up. It was the first time since Joe had gone missing that Lavender smiled.

I had my best friend back. Now I just needed my man.

Joe wasn’t the only missing person in my life. Kenny Cameron was homeless and it was obvious that no newspaper story was going to be written, so there’d be no pressure put on the council to rehouse him. He had fallen through the net and I needed to set things right. I made a deal with the powers that be, heavenly powers, that if I found Kenny Cameron they would send Joe back to me, and that’s how I came to be parking Joe’s chopper outside the homeless shelter known as the Mission.

I really didn’t want to bump into Graham Marshall but I had no choice. However, I couldn’t be responsible for my actions if he was there, and I was pretty sure Bancho would let me get away with anything where Marshall was concerned. Rationally, I wasn’t convinced my ex-client was the root cause of the whirlwind of grief I found myself in, but emotionally I wanted to punch the bastard’s lights out. My hatred for him steeled my resolve and I tightened the muscles in my jaw, threw back my shoulders, and marched into the Mission.

The world was the same: lunch was still served at noon and the queue was already starting to form. My eyes searched for familiar faces. Mack the dreadlocked tramp was nowhere to be seen, but his dog Lucky was being carried by Wee Elvis.