She thought about it for a minute, then called his mobile anyway, but it was switched off. Another answering service; another message not left. Last-chance saloon was his pager, but she was winding down now. A mug of tea … she’d take it to bed with her. She switched the kettle on, looked for the tea-bags. The box was empty. All she had were some little sachets of herbal stuff: camomile. She wondered if the petrol station at Canonmills would be open … maybe the chip shop on Broughton Street. Yes, that was it … she could see the answer to her problems! She slipped her shoes and coat on, made sure she had keys and money. When she went out, she checked that the door had locked behind her. Down the stairs and out into the night, searching for the one ally she could depend on, no matter what.

Chocolate.

9

It had just gone seven-thirty when the phone woke her up. She staggered from bed, padded through to the living room. She had one hand on her forehead; the other reached for the handset.

‘Hello?’

‘Good morning, Siobhan. Didn’t wake you, did I?’

‘No, I was just making breakfast.’ She blinked a few times, then stretched her face, trying to get her eyes open. The Farmer sounded like he’d been up for hours.

‘Well, I don’t want to keep you, only I’ve just had a very interesting phone call.’

‘One of your contacts?’

‘Another early riser. He’s in the middle of writing a book about the Knights Templar, connecting them to the Masons. That’s probably why he saw it straight away.’

Siobhan was in the kitchen now. She checked there was water in the kettle and switched it on. Enough instant coffee in the jar for maybe two or three cups. She had to do a supermarket run one of these days. Crumbs of chocolate on the worktop. She pressed her finger to them, lifting them to her mouth.

‘Saw what?’ she said.

The Farmer started laughing. ‘You’re not awake yet, are you?’

‘A bit groggy, that’s all.’

‘Late night?’

‘Maybe one Rolo too many. Saw what, sir?’

‘The clue. It’s a reference to Rosslyn Chapel. You know where that is?’

‘I was there not too long ago.’ Another case; one she’d worked with Rebus.

‘Then maybe you saw it: one of the windows apparently is decorated with carvings of maize.’

‘I don’t remember.’ But she was waking up now.

‘Yet the chapel was built before maize was known in Britain.’

‘“A corny beginning”,’ she recited.

‘That’s right.’

‘And the mason’s dream?’