Rebus had come here in a vain attempt to flush all those little coffins out of his mind. He kept imagining them, seeing them as the work of one man, one killer … and wondering if there were any more of them, lying rotting on barren hillsides perhaps, or tucked away in crevasses, or turned into macabre ornaments in their finders’ garden sheds … Arthur’s Seat and Falls and Jean’s four coffins. He saw a continuity there, and it filled him with dread. I want to be cremated, he thought, or maybe strung up in a tree the way Aborigines do it. Anything but the strict confines of a box … anything but that.

When the door opened, everyone turned to examine the new arrival. Rebus straightened his back, trying not to show surprise. It was Gill Templer. She saw him immediately and smiled, unbuttoning her coat and taking off her scarf.

‘Thought I might find you here,’ she said. ‘I tried phoning, but got your machine.’

‘What can I get you?’

‘Gin and tonic.’

Harry had heard the order and was already reaching for a glass. ‘Ice and lemon?’ he asked.

‘Please.’

Rebus noticed that the other drinkers had shifted a little, giving Rebus and Gill as much privacy as the cramped front bar would allow. He paid for the drink and watched Gill gulp at it.

‘I needed that,’ she said.

Rebus lifted his own glass and toasted her. ‘Slainte.’ Then he took a sip. Gill was smiling.

‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘rude of me to just hammer it like that.’

‘Rough day?’

‘I’ve had better.’

‘So what brings you here?’

‘A couple of things. As usual, you haven’t been bothering to keep me up to date with any progress.’

‘There’s not much to report.’

‘It’s a dead end then?’

‘I didn’t say that. I just need a few more days.’ He lifted his glass again.

‘Then there’s the small matter of your doctor’s appointment.’

‘Yes, I know. I’ll get round to it, promise.’ He nodded towards the pint. ‘This is my first tonight, by the way.’

‘Aye, that’ll be right,’ Harry muttered, busying himself drying glasses.

Gill smiled, but her eyes were on Rebus. ‘How are things with Jean?’

Rebus shrugged. ‘Fine. She’s concentrating on the historical side.’

‘Do you like her?’

Now Rebus looked at Gill. ‘Does the matchmaker service come free?’

‘I was just wondering.’

‘And you came all this way to ask?’

‘Jean’s been hurt before by an alcoholic, it’s how her husband went.’

‘She told me. Don’t worry on that score.’

She looked down at her drink. ‘How’s it working out with Ellen Wylie?’

‘I’ve no complaints.’

‘Has she said anything about me?’