‘Why would you think the photos might have been of the old factory?’ Graham asked. ‘Isn’t that unlikely?’

Callanach was ready for it.

‘I was aware that with dementia patients, it’s good to remind them of their past, keep memories alive. I thought there was a chance the family might have been trying to give Mr Jenson a sense of who he was at times that were important in his history.’

He hated the real reason he’d picked those photos up. Looking to see if there was any family resemblance between you and the children of the man who might have raped your mother wasn’t something Callanach wanted to think about too hard.

‘There was also a severe injury to the victim’s testicles,’ Graham added. He rubbed his eyes, keeping them closed. ‘Anything you can tell me about that?’

‘What the fuck?’ Callanach leaned forwards, hands on the desk.

‘We have to ask all the questions, you know the procedure. If there’s any possibility that these injuries were caused by accident or innocently … well, we need to clarify the picture,’ Graham said.

Callanach sat back in his chair, grateful that DI Graham had mistaken his reaction for insult rather than shock. Who the hell would want to injure the groin of a man already in the grip of dementia that was going to prove fatal anyway? The only person it could be relevant to was him. The possibility that Jenson’s death was a coincidence was starting to fade and the truth – that he was being set up – was sinking in.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t know anything about an injury to his testicles. Not by accident or any other way. When I left Mr Jenson he was fine. Still breathing and completely uninjured. I didn’t see anyone else enter his room. I apologised for breaking the vase, asked if I could pay for a replacement, said goodbye to the nurse then left. After that I received a call from DCI Turner and attended the city mortuary regarding Stephen Berry’s death. I was with her all night.’

‘All night?’ Graham asked. ‘Literally all night?’ His tone was suddenly confrontational.

‘DCI Turner got injured while we were investigating up at Tantallon Castle. She required medical assistance and after that we were formulating a plan of action for the Berry investigation.’

‘At the station?’ Graham persisted.

‘No. My apartment,’ Callanach replied, wary of providing grist to the ever-ready rumour mill but knowing he couldn’t lie about such trivial details.

That was when stories started unravelling. There was every chance DI Graham would double-check his movements with Ava and their stories had to match. He knew it didn’t look good, them going to his place rather than to the hospital or the police station, but they’d done nothing wrong. Which was why it was strange that he felt so guilty about it.