‘Of course you will.’ Curt finished his cigarette and pushed it into the grass with his heel. ‘Like Conor said: despite rumours to the contrary, you’re on the side of the angels.’ He took his hand from Rebus’s arm. ‘Whether you like it or not.’

Donald Devlin came bustling up. ‘Should I order some taxis, do you think?’

Curt looked at him. ‘What does Sandy say?’

Devlin took off his glasses, made a show of wiping them. ‘Told me not to be so “bloody pragmatic”.’ He slipped the glasses on again.

‘I’ve got the car,’ Rebus said.

‘You’re okay to drive?’ Devlin asked.

‘It’s not like I’ve just lost my fucking dad!’ Rebus exploded. Then he started to apologise.

‘An emotional time for all of us,’ Devlin said, waving the apology aside. Then he took his glasses off and started polishing them again, as if the world could never reveal itself too vividly for him.

7

Tuesday at eleven a.m., Siobhan Clarke and Grant Hood started working Victoria Street. They drove up George IV Bridge, forgetting that Victoria Street was one-way. Grant cursed the No Entry sign and rejoined the crawl of traffic heading for the lights at the junction with Lawnmarket.

‘Just park kerbside,’ Siobhan said. He shook his head. ‘Why not?’

‘Traffic’s hopeless as it is. No use making things worse.’

She laughed. ‘Do you always play by the rules, Grant?’

He glanced at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing.’

He didn’t say anything, just flipped on the left-turn signal as they stopped three cars back from the lights. Siobhan couldn’t help but smile. He had the boy-racer car, but it was all a front, behind which sat a polite wee laddie.

‘Going out with anyone just now?’ she asked as the lights changed.

He considered his answer. ‘Not just at the moment,’ he said at last.

‘For a while there, I thought maybe you and Ellen Wylie …’

‘We worked one bloody case together!’ he objected.

‘Okay, okay. It’s just that the pair of you seemed to hit it off.’

‘We got along.’

‘That’s what I mean. So where was the problem?’

His face had reddened. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I just wondered if the difference in rank was maybe a factor. Some men can’t handle it.’

‘Because she’s a DS and I’m a DC?’

‘Yes.’

‘The answer’s no. Never even thought of it.’

They’d reached the roundabout outside The Hub. The right fork led to the Castle, but they took the left.

‘Where are we going?’ Siobhan asked.

‘I’ll take a left along West Port. With any luck we’ll find a space in the Grassmarket.’

‘And I bet you’ll put money in the meter, too.’

‘Unless you want the honour.’

She snorted. ‘I walk on the wild side, kid,’ she said.