‘Nothing concrete yet. It’s a very disturbing set of circumstances, with shades of suicide, but much more abusive than you’d expect to see. The body had been there three weeks.’

‘Three weeks? That can’t have been easy to look at. Do you have any suspects?’

‘I can’t say at this stage. We can’t keep it quiet much longer, anyway. Officers were out making door-to-door enquiries today. Perhaps if you run the story and name the victim, it might trigger a memory and someone will come forwards.’

‘Cause of death?’ Lance asked.

‘I want to keep some of the details quiet for now, to separate useful information from the inevitable bullshit. My feeling is that it was someone who knew the victim. There were … personal elements to it.’

‘So if you could get a good picture of her life, that would help. Friends and known associates, the places she frequented, where she shopped regularly, that sort of thing?’

‘Exactly. We need to know who saw her last, if she was in any trouble, you know the form.’

‘Got it,’ Lance said. ‘I’ll get a piece out tomorrow morning. So come on, spill the beans. How’s the gorgeous doctor and why have I still not been allowed to meet her yet?’

‘You’re too late. The gorgeous doctor is back on the singles scene. And she’s too young for you, so don’t get any ideas.’

‘Hey, some women appreciate the substantial benefits that come with dating an older man. We’re better at DIY, know how to stack a dishwasher properly, understand the perils of failing to pick up our dirty socks and most of us only have the energy for sex once a fortnight.’

‘You’re not selling the ageing process to me,’ Callanach laughed.

‘What happened?’ Lance asked.

‘Wasn’t working for me. It wasn’t fair on her to keep pretending it was. She deserved better.’

‘Do you need some advice?’ Lance asked, slipping an arm across Callanach’s shoulders and gripping the far shoulder.

‘No,’ Callanach replied, downing his whisky.

‘Sex is all in the mind. It’s not about perfect legs or shapely breasts. It’s about finding the person who presses that button in your head. Usually that’s also someone who makes you crazy and who thinks you’re a total idiot. Perhaps the doctor was just too into you.’

‘You remember the part where I said no to the offer of advice?’

‘This is a bar. I’m a Scot drinking single malt. You’ve split up with your girlfriend. What did you think was going to happen? If I hadn’t offered you useless advice, we’d have broken every pub tradition in the book.’

By the time eight thirty rolled around they were both past the legal point of driving and headed for either a long walk or a taxi ride home.