She held her jacket around her; Rebus got the feeling it wasn’t just the wind making her shiver. He was thinking of the Innocent Railway. These days it was a walkway and cycle path. About a month back, someone had been mugged there. He didn’t suppose the story would do much to cheer up his companion. He could tell her about suicides, too, and syringes left by the side of the road. Although they were walking the same path, he knew they were in different places.

‘I’m afraid history’s about all I have to offer,’ she said suddenly. ‘I’ve asked around, but no one seems to remember anyone showing particular interest in the coffins, except for the occasional student or tourist. They were kept in a private collection for a time, then handed over to the Society of Antiquaries, who gave them to the Museum.’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve not been very helpful, have I?’

‘A case like this, Jean, everything’s useful. If it doesn’t rule something in, it can help rule other things out.’

‘I get the feeling you’ve made that speech before.’

It was his turn to smile. ‘Maybe I have; doesn’t mean I don’t mean it. Are you free later on today?’

‘Why?’ She was playing with her new bracelet, the one she’d bought from Bev Dodds.

‘I’m taking our twentieth-century coffins to an expert. A bit of history might come in useful.’ He paused, looked out over Edinburgh. ‘Jesus, it’s a beautiful city, isn’t it?’

She studied him. ‘Are you saying that because you think I want to hear it?’

‘What?’

‘The other night, when I stopped on North Bridge, I got the feeling you weren’t impressed by the view.’

‘I look, but I don’t always see. I’m seeing now.’ They were on the hill’s west face, so not even half the city was spread below them. Climbing higher, Rebus knew he’d have a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. But this was enough to be going on with: the spires and chimney-pots, crow-foot gables, with the Pentland Hills to the south and the Firth of Forth to the north, the Fife coastline visible beyond.

‘Maybe you are at that,’ she said. And, smiling, she leaned forward, going up on her toes so she could peck his cheek. ‘Best just to get that out of the way,’ she said quietly. Rebus nodded, couldn’t think of anything to say, until she shivered again and said she was getting cold.

‘There’s a café behind St Leonard’s,’ Rebus told her. ‘And I’m buying. Not out of altruism, you understand, but because I’ve a huge favour to ask.’

She burst out laughing, slapped her hand to her mouth and started apologising.

‘What did I say?’ he asked.

‘It’s just that Gill told me this would happen. She said if I stuck close to you, I’d have to be prepared for “the big favour”.’

‘Did she now?’

‘And she was right, wasn’t she?’

‘Not entirely. It’s a huge favour I’m asking for, not just a big one …’