Jeff shrugged. He thumbed the call button and a moment later got through to the main desk. In an accent that was only slightly less of a hideous pastiche, he asked if PC Grace Kirk was available to speak to.

‘The name’s McNulty. Angus McNulty. Ah live in Kinlochardaich. Ah’m callin’ aboot Fergus, ma cat … Och aye, that’s right, he’s goat stuck in yon tree at the bottom o’ ma garden … It’s no the first time he’s done it, the glaikit wee daftie. He willnae come doon, no even fur his favourite tuna fish. Ah’m feart he’ll be stuck there forever an’ Ah’m a wee bit too shoogly tae shinny up a ladder masel’.’

Tuesday was cringing behind the wheel, barely able to listen.

Jeff went on, ‘Grace – Ah mean, PC Kirk – is such a braw, bonnie lassie. She only lives up the way an’ she’s goat Fergus doon afore noo. Ah wiz hopin’ she could come over an’ gie uz a haund on her way hame frae work later. Could ye tell me if she’s on duty today?’

There was a pause while the desk staffer put him on hold. Jeff cupped the phone with his palm. ‘Checking.’

Tuesday shook his head in bewilderment. ‘What a performance.’

A moment later the desk staffer came back on the line. Jeff listened, then put the accent back on. ‘She willnae be in the office until the morn? Och, bless ye, Miss. Ah ken where she lives. Ah’ll tek a walk doon tae her hoose reet noo. Thank ye again.’

Jeff ended the call and flashed Tuesday a triumphant grin. ‘Ha! Who’s the boss?’

‘I can’t believe that actually worked.’

‘Easy as pie. She’s off duty and at home. Not due back at the station until eight o’clock tomorrow. So now we know where to find her.’

If Grace had been on duty that evening, the plan would have been to head for Fort William instead, thirty miles to the south.

‘Great. Just promise me you won’t talk like that again. Makes my eyes water, listening to you.’

They drove on. Jeff relayed Tuesday at the wheel after they crossed the Scottish border. After Glasgow the motorway narrowed down to an A road, and traffic gradually began to dwindle. As seven p.m. approached, right on schedule, they’d left the main roads far behind them and were winding their way along the twisty, narrow country lanes leading towards the Highland village of Kinlochardaich. Tuesday hadn’t been anywhere this wild and remote since he’d left the army, and he gazed in fascination at the rugged, misty mountains, thickly forested valleys and still, deep lochs. It was a different world from the Normandy landscapes he and Jeff were familiar with.