‘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 …’

Siobhan was wearing a vest, polo neck and pure wool V-neck jumper. She had an old pair of thick cords on, tucked at the ankles into two pairs of socks. She’d given her old hiking boots a bit of a polish, and they seemed fine. She hadn’t worn the Barbour in years, but couldn’t think of a better chance to use it. Additionally, she was wearing a bobble-hat, and carrying a pack containing an umbrella, her mobile, a bottle of water and a flask of sweetened tea.

‘Sure you’ve got enough gear?’ Hood laughed. He was wearing jeans and trainers. His yellow cagoule looked brand new. He angled his face to the sun, so that the rays reflected off his sunglasses. They’d parked the car in a lay-by. There was a fence to climb, and after that a gently sloping field which then angled abruptly. The steep gradient was barren, except for occasional whin-bushes and rocks.

‘What do you reckon?’ Hood asked. ‘An hour to the top?’

Siobhan slipped the backpack over her shoulders. ‘With a bit of luck.’

Sheep watched them as they climbed the fence. There was a strand of barbed wire running along it, marked with tufts of grey wool. Hood gave Siobhan a foot up, then leaped over, using his hand on the fence-post for purchase.

‘Not a bad day for it,’ he said, as they started to climb. ‘Reckon Flip would have done this on her ownio?’

‘I don’t know,’ Siobhan conceded.