“Bit early for you,” she complained.

“Did I wake you?”

“Not quite.” He thought he could hear her sit up in bed. Her mouth seemed to be dry and she cleared her throat. “So where’s the fire?”

“I’m in Rosemarkie,” Rebus admitted.

“Doing what exactly?”

“It’s Magrath’s brother, Siobhan, I’d swear to it.”

“What?”

“Magrath moved north to try to keep a lid on it. The brother travels all over. He was in Glasgow the day Annette McKie was abducted, and he’d have driven up the A9 to get home.” Rebus rubbed his free hand across the stubble on his cheeks and chin.

“Wait a second.” He listened as she walked into another room. “Can you prove any of this?”

“I told Dempsey, we need forensics on Magrath’s van, plus searches of his home and garage.”

“You told Dempsey?”

“She’s not going to bite unless I can give her something. That’s why I thought of you.”

“Are you off your head?”

“Everybody seems to think so—but I know it’s him.”

“That’s not the way it works, John.” She paused, only now registering something he’d said a moment back. “What do you need me for?”

“The phone number of that petrol station in Pitlochry. I want to take a look at their CCTV. If Annette hitched a lift in the town, Kenny Magrath must have been in the town.”

“He pulled off the A9 to fill up?”

“Maybe.”

She gave a lengthy sigh. He imagined her seated on the edge of her sofa, elbow on knee, hand pressed to forehead. Not quite ready to face the day yet, and already landed with this.

“The longer he has, the more chance we’re giving him to dump anything that could be incriminating.”

“Hang on a minute, then,” she said, getting to her feet. She found the number and gave it to him twice while he jotted it down and checked it.

“Thanks, Siobhan.”

“I suppose Dempsey will have contacted James,” she commented.

“I dare say I’m in for yet another bollocking.”

“Except that you’re not a cop anymore.” She paused. “Which means I shouldn’t even be talking to you, and you shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Aren’t I naughty?” Rebus said with a tired smile. Then: “I thought I saw a dolphin earlier.”

“Or maybe a selkie?”

“You implying I see things that aren’t there, DI Clarke?”

“How many lies are you going to tell the petrol station?”

“As few as necessary. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Always supposing they allow you more than one phone call,” she said.

Rebus managed another smile before punching in the number she had given him. But the petrol station’s footage for the day of Annette McKie’s disappearance was not available.

“You’ve already got it,” he was told.

“It’s at Inverness?” Rebus nodded his comprehension, ended the call and tried another number.

“John?” Gavin Arnold answered. “What can I do for you this fine, stress-free morning?”

“Raise those stress levels, maybe,” Rebus suggested.

“By doing what?”

“Bending a few rules,” Rebus answered, going on to explain his request.