“Are we about done here? Because I’m hearing nothing that’s going to cause me even a sleepless five minutes. Billy Saunders can tell any story he wants; it’s going to be his word against Summerhall CID. Hearsay’s all you’re ever going to have.” Gilmour jutted out his chin, almost toe to toe with Fox. Fox was opening his mouth, readying a response, when the lift doors shuddered open.

“You here yet, Big Boy?” A woman’s singsong voice. “Reception told me to come up and wait…” She walked into the room and came to a stop, lips opening into an O.

“Your next appointment?” Fox pretended to guess, eyes on Gilmour.

“I think you should leave,” Gilmour said, his words edged with frost.

The woman was young—midtwenties maybe. Dyed red hair and a short coat below which was a presumably shorter dress. Rebus thought he recognized her from one of the photos in the lobby. She’d had a footballer’s arm draped around her. Perfume was filling the room, replacing the oxygen.

“We’re going,” Rebus stated, making his way towards the hall. Gilmour was avoiding eye contact, but that was just fine. Maybe there was some parting shot from Fox, but if so Rebus didn’t hear it. The two men stood together as the lift doors closed and they began their descent. Nothing was said until Rebus paused by the display from the party, checking that he was right about the visitor.

“Cheating on a woman like that,” Fox commented, shaking his head as he pressed the tip of a finger to Gilmour’s girlfriend’s face.

Up in the penthouse, there was a call on Gilmour’s phone. He was going to ignore it until he checked the name on the screen.

“Back in a minute,” he barked to his visitor, retreating to the bathroom and closing the door. “Long time no hear.”

“Took you long enough to pick up.”

“I’m rushed off my feet. What can I do for you?”

“I’m after a favor. Do you still know anyone on the force in Edinburgh?”

“I might.”

“Only a friendly face wouldn’t hurt.”

“What’s this about, Owen?”

“I want to know what really happened the night Jessica had her smash.”

“Enlighten me.”

“My daughter, Stefan. Her car went off the road and the cops seem to think her boyfriend was behind the wheel. Next thing, his dad’s attacked in his home and they pull me in.”

“The dad in question being Pat McCuskey?”

“I just need someone who can keep me in the picture.”

“Best guy I can think of is called John Rebus.”

“Anyone but that bastard!” Traynor snarled.

“You’ve met him, then?”

“Enough to know I want to smack his face. So can you help me out?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You were a prick back in the day, Stefan, and you’re still being a prick.”