“You bastard,” she said. “Just go away and leave us alone.”

“Can’t do that, Alice. Not until I get a few answers.”

“Just—sod—off!” A click told him the intercom had died. He stood up straight, waited a few seconds, then retreated to his car, making himself comfortable behind the steering wheel. He was about to occupy himself with a fresh cigarette when Alice Bell yanked open the door to her building, stepped out and looked up and down the street. She was fretting, hands clasped. When she saw the Saab, her eyes narrowed, her lips forming a thin determined line. Rebus gestured for her to come join him, and she did, opening the passenger-side door and getting in, slamming the door closed after her.

“You’re vile,” she said.

“When the investigation team called you, you told them Forbes’s dad was showing you around the Scottish Parliament. As far as I know, they’ve accepted that story.” He paused. “I wasn’t so sure, and you sitting here seals it for me.” Another pause. “So do you want to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

Rebus leaned back against the headrest, face half turned towards hers. “So far they’ve only been looking at Pat McCuskey’s most recent phone records. I can go back a bit further and work out when it started…”

“Three months,” she eventually said. “Three and a half.”

“How did the two of you meet?”

“Forbes took Jessica and me to the house. His parents were there. When I said I was interested in Alison Watt, Pat told me there was a painting by her hanging in the Parliament building.” It was Alice Bell’s turn to pause. “That was the start, I suppose.”

“Forbes and Jessica…?”

“Don’t know anything about it.”

“How often did you meet, you and him?”

“Eight times.” She sounded almost proud that she could be so specific.

“At his house?”

She shook her head. “Never there.”

“Where, then?”

“He has a friend with a flat on Holyrood Road. The friend is away in London a lot…” She had begun to blush. “I know he’s a lot older than me, and…and he’s Forbes’s dad and everything, but…”

“You’re not in the confessional, Alice.”

“You don’t think…?”

“That his death had anything to do with you?” Rebus shook his head. “Not unless you want to tell me otherwise.”

“Then I don’t see…”

Rebus twisted his body towards her. “I need information, Alice. I need to know what happened the night of the crash. My gut tells me Jessica will have confided in you.”

“She hasn’t.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“I’m not!”

“Well if that’s how we’re playing this, I might have to share your little secret with a few mutual friends—Jessica and Forbes to start with, then the team investigating Mr. McCuskey’s demise…”