No way he was touching the used hankies with his bare hands. Just because the viewing suite was on the ground floor, right across the corridor from the CCTV room – manned twenty-four hours a day – it didn’t mean some filthy sod wasn’t in here wanking themselves ragged to footage of drunken Friday-night girlies flashing their boobs at the cameras.

He plucked a biro from the desk and used that to hook them into the bin instead.

‘Here we go. . .’

Logan looked up to see a queue of three people, distorted by the cash-machine camera’s fisheye lens. First up was a wee man with a hoodie, a leather jacket, and a bobble hat – even though it was the middle of May. Behind him was a woman, looking back over her shoulder every three or four seconds, as if someone might be after her. The person behind her was a dick in a suit, making a big show of checking his watch every fifteen seconds: don’t you know how important I am?

Logan shook his head. ‘It’s the wrong footage. Where’s Anthony Chung? ’

Bobble-hat-and-hoodie took his money and walked away out of shot. Little Miss Nervous took his place.

Chalmers pressed pause. ‘According to the Clydesdale Bank, this is the transaction from Anthony Chung’s debit card. Two hundred and sixty pounds.’

Little Miss Nervous had far too much makeup on, ginger hair exploding out from underneath a baseball cap with ‘Witchfire’ embroidered into it. Her heart-shaped face was slightly out of focus, the layers of mascara and black eye-shadow giving her eyes a serious Tim Burton vibe.

Logan frowned at the screen. ‘Is that—’

‘She’s dyed her hair, the glasses have gone, and she’s lost a bit of weight, but it’s definitely her.’

Agnes Garfield.

‘What’s she doing with Anthony Chung’s debit card? ’

Chalmers pressed play. ‘Getting some cash out for him? Maybe she’s got none of her own, so they’re living off his? ’

‘Two hundred and sixty’s a lot of cash to get out at one time. They’re going somewhere, or buying something big. . .’

‘Not enough for plane tickets, too much for train tickets. And if she was clearing his account out, why not withdraw the full three hundred? Bank says he’s still got another three and a half grand.’

Logan dumped the biro in the bin with the suspicious tissues. ‘Two sixty would buy you a reasonable quantity of weed. She left hers at home.’

‘We followed her through the CCTV from Markies, Union Street, Schoolhill, then she disappears down some steps beside the theatre. There’s nothing else on camera.’

‘GSM trace? ’