‘Near Duddingston Loch and the Innocent Railway.’

‘Now that was named because they used horses instead of trains, right?’

She smiled again. ‘Could be. There are other theories.’ She pointed towards the loch. ‘Samson’s Ribs,’ she said. ‘The Romans had a fort there.’ She gave him a sly glance. ‘Maybe you didn’t think they got this far north?’

He shrugged. ‘History’s never been my strong point. Do we know where the coffins were found?’

‘The records from the time are vague. “The north-east range of Arthur’s Seat” is how the Scotsman put it. A small opening in a secluded outcrop.’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve wandered all over and never found the spot. The other thing the Scotsman said was that the coffins were in two tiers, eight in each, and with a third tier just begun.’

‘Like whoever did it had more to add?’

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.’