Rebus pretended to look disappointed, then gestured towards a compactor sixty yards away. “So that’s his twin, then?” he asked. “See, I’ve met Reece before.”

The owner’s face fell. Then he placed his fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Reece Bairstow looked up from his work and saw his boss signaling him over.

“You’ve been very helpful,” Rebus told the man. “Don’t think I won’t remember that.”

He started walking towards Bairstow, meeting him halfway. Bairstow was tugging at the fingers of his work gloves, pulling his hands free of them. He gave a twitch of the mouth by way of greeting.

“Remember me?” Rebus asked.

“The VW Golf outside Kirkliston? Car’s right here.” Bairstow nodded in the direction of a meter-high cube of squashed metal. Another vehicle had already been placed atop it.

“Yard’s been busy,” Rebus commented.

“Way I like it.” Bairstow stood with almost three feet of space between his work boots, shoulders pulled back.

“You worried, Reece?” Rebus asked.

“No.”

“Your stance says otherwise.”

Bairstow looked down at himself and tried to relax, shuffling his feet and unknotting some of his muscles. “What do you want?” he asked.

“I want to know what you took from the car.”

The man just stared at him. “Nothing,” he eventually said.

“Want to try that again?”

“I’ve told you.”

“Easy enough to pop the boot open—key was still in the ignition. But when we suddenly turned up you had to look busy, and you forgot to shut it again.” Rebus paused and took half a step towards the man. “It’s not just a case of bad driving anymore, Reece—might end up connecting to a murder. Anyone who holds back from us, there’s going to be a price to pay further down the line.” He turned his head towards the owner’s shack. “I’m willing to bet your boss won’t like us coming back here day after day to question you. Probably got a few things he wouldn’t want us getting wind of…”

Bairstow’s nostrils flared. He was breathing hard, face fixed in a scowl. “I’ve told you,” he repeated.

“So you have,” Rebus agreed, nodding slowly. “But this won’t be the last time you see me or someone like me—far from it. I suppose I better go tell your boss that.” He turned and started retracing his steps. He heard footsteps behind him, Bairstow’s voice telling him to hang on a minute. Rebus stopped and waited while the man walked around to face him.

“How much trouble would someone be in, taking something from a wreck? Nothing much, I mean—something they didn’t think anyone would want?”

Rebus pretended to consider this, then gave a non-committal shrug.

“Maybe if you were to show me,” he offered.