Logan’s phone blared at him as he hurried down the stairs to the cell block. Unknown number. He pulled it out. ‘McRae? ’

‘You the one put an ASAP request on DNA samples from a body? John Doe, torture victim? ’

‘On Tuesday.’ Logan pushed through the doors at the bottom. ‘This is what counts as ASAP now, is it? ’

‘Sarcasm. Helpful. You try getting anything done when they reorganize your department every three sodding minutes, then lump you with a sodding software upgrade that throws false positive and negatives the whole time!’ A pause, filled with what sounded like angry breathing. Then a slow hissing noise. And finally he was back. ‘We’ve a ninety-nine percent match with a Mai Shi-tu, arrested half a dozen times for possession, housebreaking. Low-level drug dealer from Glasgow.’

The double doors onto the rear podium burst open and Rennie swaggered in, then stuck his arms up, fingers making the victory signs. Like a young, blond, Richard Nixon. ‘Who’s the daddy? Oh yes!’

‘Yeah, well, that would’ve been really useful information yesterday when it actually mattered.’

‘There’s no need to be a dick about it, it’s not like—’

‘Next time we say ASAP, we mean ASAP.’ Logan hung up on him.

A hunched figure hurpled in behind Rennie, leaning heavily on a walking stick, his left leg encased in a filthy cast from the knee down. His face was covered in scabs and scratches, his hair plastered to his head by the rain.

Rennie waved at Logan. Grinned. Then turned and swept an arm towards his limping friend. ‘Ladies, and gentlemen, the one, the only, Mr Henry Scott!’

Henry Scott stopped where he was, licking his chapped lips, eyes shifting left and right. ‘I’m sorry. . .? ’

Rennie beamed at Logan again. ‘See: told you I could do it. Found him in Kincorth, hiding in a derelict building.’

‘I didn’t do anything. . .’

The smile slipped from Rennie’s face. ‘I know you didn’t, Henry.’ He patted him on the shoulder. ‘I tracked down your sister, she’s been worried about you. Wants you to go live with her and the family in Perth. Help you get better.’ Then Rennie backed off a pace and sniffed the hand he’d just patted Henry Scott with. He shuddered. ‘But first, we need to get you a bath . . .’

Logan stayed where he was while Rennie led Henry Scott away. As soon as they were out of sight, the sound of Rennie whistling ‘We Are the Champions’ echoed up the stairwell.

He slid the hatch open on cell number three.

Morgan Mitchell lay on her back on the mattress, staring up at the advert for Crimestoppers painted on the ceiling. She raised her head and frowned at him. Then sat up. ‘Well, well.’ A smile. ‘You going to give me a seeing-to with the rubber hoses now? ’

‘It was you.’