‘Don’t give me that shite!’ He hurled the envelope across the desk. It hit the lawyer on the chest and fell to the floor. ‘Think I don’t know a bribe when I see one? ’

The receptionist appeared at his elbow. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Moir-Farquharson, I told him you were with a client.’

The hulk of muscle in the suit sniffed, then hooked a thumb over his shoulder. His voice was a nasal Borders growl. ‘You want I should, you know, remove him from the premises, like? ’

Another sigh. Then Hissing Sid pushed his chair back, bent down and picked the envelope from the ground. ‘Will you excuse me for a couple of minutes, Mr Harris? I’m afraid DI McRae requires things to be explained to him slowly and with pictures wherever possible.’ He stood. ‘Mrs Jefferies, will you fetch Mr Harris a pot of tea? I’ll be in the conference room with our uncivilized visitor.’

Sandy Moir-Farquharson settled into a chair at the end of the long table, sitting with his back to the window. Sunshine cast dappled shadows on the cars parked around Golden Square, rippling gently as wind brushed through the leaves of the parched trees.

The lawyer placed the brown envelope on the table in front of him and smoothed it out with careful fingers. ‘DI McRae, I don’t appreciate you coming in here and making a nuisance of yourself when I’m with a client. Or any other time, come to that. If you wish to see me, you can make an appointment with Mrs Jefferies like everyone else.’

‘Thirty thousand pounds! And what the hell is this? ’ Logan dug out the power of attorney forms and slapped them down on the table. ‘Get it through your pointy little head, I am not for sale. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? ’

Hissing Sid pulled the cheque from the envelope. Held it up. ‘As you will see, the payee section has been left blank. Mr Mowat has no interest in bribing you, he merely wishes you to select a worthy cause you’d like to support.’ The lawyer went back into the envelope and pulled out a Post-it note covered in cramped handwriting. ‘As you would have known if you’d bothered to read my message. All you have to do is fill in the missing details.’

Logan stared at the note. Bloody thing must’ve been stuck to the inside of the envelope. . . Still, that wasn’t the point, was it? ‘So you’ll have my handwriting on a huge cheque from Wee Hamish Mowat? Do you think I’m stupid.’

Hissing Sid puckered his lips and raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m certainly coming to that conclusion.’ He laid the cheque on the table. ‘It’s really not that complicated. Name the cause you wish to support and I’ll have someone complete the relevant details for you.’

‘I’d . . . it’s thirty thousand pounds!’