Clare began the interview with the usual formalities and started the tape. ‘Zac, you have agreed to be interviewed without a solicitor present, but we are happy to stop the interview to wait for one if you prefer.’

‘Aye, just get on with it.’

‘Okay. You told us previously that you came to St Andrews by bus with Abe McLeod last Friday evening.’

‘Aye, so?’

‘And that you received a text message asking you to remain in the town to collect a package.’

‘Aye.’

‘Do you mind telling us how you spent the night?’

He shrugged. ‘Suppose. Spent a bit of time with Abe…’ He tailed off and Clare guessed he wanted to avoid mentioning the stolen car again.

She chose her words carefully. ‘And when you and Abe… parted company, you went to the museum?’

‘Aye. Doubledykes Road, like I told you. Message said I was supposed to wait there and the parcel would be dropped off early morning.’

‘So you waited all night?’ Clare said. ‘Just inside the museum gates, off Doubledykes Road?’

He nodded.

‘For the tape, please.’

‘Aye, I waited where you said.’

‘But the person with the package didn’t appear?’

‘Naw. Waste of a night. Could have been home in my bed.’

‘You also said you hardly saw anyone,’ Clare continued. ‘I’d like you to think carefully about that, please. It might be important. Was there anyone at all? Particularly anyone you think might have noticed you.’

Zac sat back and rubbed his chin. ‘A few folk wandered past – Friday night – after closing time.’

‘Did you speak to them?’ Clare asked.

He shook his head. ‘A couple were chatty but I didn’t take them on. I was trying to keep my head down.’

‘Go on.’

‘Pretty quiet after that,’ he said. ‘Then, early morning, when it started getting light, ye ken, more folk came down the road.’

‘What sort of folk?’

Zac thought for a moment. Then he said, ‘Like folk heading for work. Couple of lassies in black skirts and white blouses. Hotel staff, I reckoned. That sort of thing.’

‘Did any of them look your way? As if they were looking for someone?’

He shook his head. ‘Don’t think so, although…’ he broke off for a moment, then said, ‘there was this one boy.’

‘Yes?’

‘I say boy, not that young. Maybe thirtyish. ’Bout seven in the morning. Maybe a bit after that. Looked a bit rough, if ye get my meaning.’

‘Rough in what way?’

‘Well, he needed a shave and a wash, for a kick-off,’ Zac said. ‘Clothes a bit messy, ye ken? I reckon he’d been to a party and that was him just wandering home.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘He said, didn’t he? About the party. And he had a guitar.’

‘He said? You spoke to him?’