‘Y-es … absolutely.’ He sounded English, but Rebus knew he wasn’t. Private education south of the border had ironed out all trace of his Scottish roots. Father a businessman in Hong Kong until three years ago, divorced from the mother, who lived in Perthshire.

‘You knew her well then?’

Winfield kept his eyes on Siobhan. ‘I suppose so. I mean, she was Camille’s friend really.’

‘Camille’s your girlfriend?’ Siobhan asked.

‘Foreign, is she?’ Rebus barked.

‘No …’ The eyes strayed to Rebus, but only for a second. ‘No, she’s from Staffordshire.’

‘Like I said, foreign.’

Siobhan glanced at Rebus, worried he was milking his role. As Winfield stared down at the table-top, Rebus gave Siobhan a wink of reassurance.

‘Hot in here, isn’t it, Albert?’ Siobhan paused. ‘You don’t mind me calling you Albert?’

‘No … no, that’s fine.’ He glanced up at her again, but whenever he did his eyes were drawn towards her neighbour.

‘Would you like me to open a window?’

‘Wonderful, yes.’

Siobhan looked at Rebus, who pushed his chair back with as much noise as possible. The windows were narrow, fixed high on the external wall. Rebus stood on tiptoe to open one of them, pulling it in three or four inches. The breeze swept over him.

‘Better?’ Siobhan asked.

‘Yes, thanks.’

Rebus stayed standing, over to Winfield’s left. He folded his arms and rested against the wall, directly below the camera.

‘Just a few follow-up questions really,’ Siobhan was saying.

‘Right … fine.’ Winfield nodded enthusiastically.

‘So you wouldn’t say you knew Flip that well?’

‘We went out together … in a group, I mean. Dinner sometimes …’

‘At her flat?’

‘Once or twice. And at mine.’

‘You live down near the Botanics?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Nice part of town.’

‘It’s my father’s place.’

‘He lives there?’

‘No, he’s … I mean, he bought it for me.’

Siobhan looked towards Rebus.

‘All right for some,’ he muttered, arms still folded.

‘I can’t help it if my father has money,’ Winfield complained.

‘Of course you can’t,’ Siobhan agreed.

‘What about Flip’s boyfriend?’ Rebus asked.

Winfield found himself looking at Rebus’s shoes. ‘David? What about him?’

Rebus bent down, waved a hand in Winfield’s direction. ‘I’m up here, son.’ He straightened. Winfield held his gaze for all of three seconds.

‘Just wondering if you consider him a friend,’ Rebus said.

‘Well, it’s a bit awkward now … I mean, it was awkward. They kept splitting up, getting back together again …’

‘And you took Flip’s side?’ Siobhan guessed.

‘I had to, what with Camille and everything …’

‘You say they kept splitting up. Whose fault was it?’

‘I just think they had this personality clash … you know how opposites attract? Well, sometimes you get the inverse of that.’

‘I didn’t have the benefit of a university education, Mr Winfield,’ Rebus said. ‘Maybe you could spell that out for me.’